XLIX

Now had the Night's companion from her den,
Where all the busy day she close doth lie,
With her soft wing wiped from the brows of men
Day's sweat, and by a gentle tyranny,
And sweet oppression, kindly cheating them
Of all their cares, tamed the rebellious eye
Of Sorrow, with a soft and downy hand,
Sealing all breasts in a Lethean band.

L

When the Erinnys 1 her black pinions, spread, And came to Bethlehem, where the cruel king Had now retired himself, and borrowèd

His breast awhile from Care's unquiet sting; Such as at Thebes' dire feast she showed her head, Her sulphur-breathèd torches brandishing :

Such to the frighted palace now she comes,
And with soft feet searches the silent rooms.

The sceptre, which of old great David swayed ; Whose right by David's, lineage so long worn,

Himself a stranger to, his own had made;
And from the head of Judah's house quite torn
The crown, for which upon their necks he laid

A sad yoke, under which they sighed in vain,
And looking on their lost state sighed again.
1 The goddess of vengeance.

LII

Up through the spacious palace passed she To where the king's proudly-reposed head (If any can be soft to Tyranny

And self-tormenting sin) had a soft bed. She thinks not fit such he her face should see, As it is seen in Hell, and seen with dread; To change her face's style she doth devise, And in a pale ghost's shape to spare his eyes.

LIII

Herself a while she lays aside, and makes
Ready to personate a mortal part.

Joseph, the king's dead brother's shape, she takes;
What he by nature was, is she by art,

She comes to th' king, and with her cold hand slakes His spirits the sparks of life, and chills his heart, Life's forge; feigned is her voice, and false too be

Her words: "Sleep'st thou, fond man? sleep'st thou ?

LIV

said she.

"So sleeps a pilot whose poor bark is prest
With many a merciless o'ermastering wave;
For whom (as dead) the wrathful winds contest,
Which of them deep'st shall dig her watery

grave.

Why dost thou let thy brave soul lie supprest
In death-like slumbers, while thy dangers crave
A waking eye and hand? look up and see
The Fates ripe, in their great conspiracy.

LV

"Know'st thou not how of th' Hebrew's royal

stem

(That old dry stock) a despaired branch is sprung, A most strange Babe; Who here concealed by them In a neglected stable lies, among

Beasts and base straw: already is the stream

Quite turn'd: th' ingrateful rebels this their young

Master (with voice free as the trump of
Fame)

Their new King, and thy Successor proclaim.

LVI

"What busy motions, what wild engines stand
On tiptoe in their giddy brains; they've fire
Already in their bosoms; and their hand
Already reaches at a sword: they hire
Poisons to speed thee; yet through all the Land
What one comes to reveal what they conspire?
Go now, make much of these; wage still
their wars,

And bring home on thy breast more thankless

scars.

LVII

66

Why did I spend my life, and spill my blood, That thy firm hand for ever might sustain A well-poised sceptre? Does it now seem good Thy brother's blood be spilt, life spent in vain? 'Gainst thy own sons and brothers thou hast stood

In arms, when lesser cause was to complain:

And now cross Fates a watch about thee keep.

Canst thou be careless now? now canst thou

sleep?

LVIII

"Where art thou, man? what cowardly mistake Of thy great self hath stolen king Herod from

thee?

O, call thyself home to thyself; wake, wake, And fence the hanging sword Heaven throws upon thee:

Redeem a worthy wrath, rouse thee, and shake
Thyself into a shape that may become thee.

Be Herod, and thou shalt not miss from me
Immortal stings to thy great thoughts, and
thee."

LIX

So said, her richest snake, which to her wrist
For a beseeming bracelet she had tied
(A special worm it was as ever kissed

The foamy lips of Cerberus 1), she applied
To the king's heart; the snake no sooner hissed
But Virtue heard it, and away she hied.

Dire flames diffuse themselves through every vein;

This done, home to her Hell she hied amain.

LX

He wakes, and with him (ne'er to sleep) new fears:

His sweat-bedewèd bed hath now betrayed him

1 The three-headed dog that guarded the gate of Hades. Around his necks snakes coiled.

To a vast field of thorns; ten thousand spears
All pointed in his heart seemed to invade him :
So mighty were th' amazing characters

With which his feeling dream had thus dis-
mayed him,

He his own fancy-framèd foes defies:

In rage, "My arms, give me my arms," he cries.

LXI

As when a pile of food-preparing fire
The breath of artificial lungs embraves,
The cauldron-prisoned waters straight conspire,
And beat the hot brass with rebellious waves;
He murmurs, and rebukes their bold desire;
Th' impatient liquor frets, and foams, and raves,
Till his o'erflowing pride suppress the flame,
Whence all his high spirits and hot courage

came.

LXII

So boils the firèd Herod's blood-swollen breast,
Not to be slaked but by a sea of blood.
His faithless crown he feels loose on his crest,
Which on false tyrant's head ne'er firmly stood.
The worm of jealous envy and unrest,

To which his gnawed heart is the growing food,

Makes him impatient of the lingering light,
Hate the sweet peace of all-composing Night.

LXIII

A thousand prophecies, that talk strange things, Had sown of old these doubts in his deep breast;