I Have cast my eyes and thoughts on divers Histories, but never could light on any that might better bring great ones really to apprehend how much they are deceived, who sway a Court, or State by pure policie, [Page 2] and humane wisdome, squaring religion to their own ends, and interests, then the life and death of this unfortunate King of Iury. Hee had a naturall judge­ment of a deep reach; an under­standing, that could pierce unto, and fathome the most wonder­full and mysterious practices; & a courage mounted to the high­est degree and pitch that can bee expressed: A mā that had sprung out of nothing, yet built his for­tunes as high as a Throne, and established it amidst so various, so knotty, and intricate affaires, that he made himselfe to be ad­mired even of the most under­standing heads thē in the world. But since he built on that impi­ous maxime, That hee ought to make Law and Religion his stal­king­horse [Page 3] for to serve his own purposes, hee led a life as full of villany, as disquiet, which ended with the most wofull death that imagination can reach unto to conceive. What made me yet to resolve upon this History (which I have taken out of Iose­phus, and some other smaller fragments, and Commentaries, spinning it out according to the copiousnesse of my style, & not strictly tying my selfe to any ex­act translation) was, that (beside the Vnfortunate Politique) you read there Innocence persecuted and wearied in the life of a La­dy that was the very mirrour of Patience; and whom I propose here in the first rank, as one of the greatest Ornaments of our holy Court. It is not here with­out [Page 4] reason, that I would cull the fairest Roses amidst the sharpest Thornes; shew her serenity, and calmnesse in the greatest tempest of a troublesome state; and seek a hony Comb even in the jawes of a Lion: since from Herods Court I goe to fetch out a chast, and patient Mariamne, the very Tablet of Innocence most de­spightfully entreated. The pati­ence of this poore Queen de­serves to bee consecrated with the pen of a Diamond to the Temple of Eternity; since it is able to ecclipse the glory of the greatest Heroes, to transcend the power of Rhetorick, and to ra­vish the spirits, even of those that use not to admire ought that is obvious and vulgar. God who rayses the glory of his chosen [Page 5] on the foundation (as it were) of the greatest miseries, seeing the soule of this Princesse to be of a most hardy, and noble temper, thought fit to give her a spacious field for combat, that so shee might win the more glorious & triumphant Palmes of patience: And to this end he gave her wic­ked Herod to her husband, a Per­secutor, a barbarous, and infa­mous Executioner, but by so much the more sutable to the patience of Mariamne, by how much the more like a Persecu­tor, and a Headsman then a hus­band, and a head. To know the strength, and roughnesse of this anvill, we must know the ham­mer that beat upon it: The better to speak the singular goodnesse of this Queen, wee must oppose [Page 6] unto it an anti-parallel, the ma­lice of Herod; wee must obserue how this disloyall person, hol­ding his Life, Scepter, & Crown from the house of Mariamne, in recompence thereof, took away from her both Scepter, Crown, and Life. After hee had ript out her bowels (as I may so speak) putting to death her neerest blood before her eyes, & at last he flings her too, all weltring in her blood, upon the pile (where her kindred, and brethren were made a holocaust) to bee the last sacrifice to his hellish furie; yet could he never shake her invin­cible patience, and constancy. Each one speaks of Herod, as a man composed of clay tempered with blood, as of a Tyrant that would murther mercy it selfe: [Page 7] But every man knoweth not the art, and subtlety, which hee used to get into possession of his Ma­riamne, and Davids Scepter; op­pressing the one with all Ingra­titude, and swaying the other with extream Tyranny.

About fifty yeares before the Nativity of our Saviour, the kingdome of Iudah, that since David stood on its bottome neer a thousand yeares (though in that period it oft had suffered strange ecclipses, & changes, be­ing often rent, and sore shaken, & by those concussions often knit again, and took deeper root,) found its Tombe, and utter ru­ine in the fatall discord of two Brothers. Hyrcanus an honest man, but a bad King, did then beare rule: hee had neither [Page 8] strength, resolution, nor courage; as coward like in his charge, as innocent in his manners, & con­versation. His over-facile de­meanour made him degenerate into a kinde of stupidity, and though unable to do any harm, yet did he suffer himselfe to bee an instrument of all the insolen­cies that were committed, for that he was too ductile, & capa­ble of the impressions of ano­ther: Being apprehensive of this his weaknesse, hee casts the ho­nour, and burden of the Realme (with all willingnesse) on the shoulder of his brother Aristo­bulus, a man valiant, and hearty, but who had more imploiments then good successe. During this declining and tottering state of Royalty, Palestina was much ey­ed, [Page 9] and courted of her Neigh­bours, and aboue all, by Anti­pater (the father of this Herod) an Idumean by birth, in's man­ners an Arabian, a factious spirit, well monied, and by his strata­gems able to overturne a great Empire; who had of a long time on foot a project upon the Realm of Iudea, he well foresaw that it would be a hard taske for him to put in practise his wicked designes, as long as that bold Li­on Aristobulus stood on the top, or pinacle; but if hee were once dismounted, and Hircanus resto­red to the throne, then all should be at his arbitrement and dispo­sall. What doth the Arabian, but goe about sowing the seeds of rebellion in the hearts of the people against their Leige Lord [Page 10] Aristobulus? Telling them, they were disloyall cowards, to per­mit their lawfull King Hircanus to be dethroned (in whose hand nature had put the Scepter,) and the Kingdome to be transferred on a mutinous, and a turbulent spirit, who ere long would make them the wracks & desolation of all Palestine; that they had a­bandoned a King, whom they could not tax with ought, but excesse of goodnesse, to admit of one, who having entred at the gate of treachery, could not reigne over them without the trouble, and combustion of his country, when good Hircanus would devest himselfe of his right, they were to blame to cō ­descend to his modesty, who was by so much the worthier to [Page 11] rule, by how much he deem'd himselfe the more unworthy: The glory which hee did fly frō in undervaluing his own person, should have pursued him to his grave. If they did object against him too much gentlenesse, it was the more agreeable to the piety, and sweet behaviour of the Iews. If the Doues were to chuse them a King, they would ever make a choise of a Stalue, before a Sparrow-hawk. This subtile head, by such like remonstrances found many that gave eare unto him, partly amongst those that loved innovation, & partly too, among those that were carried away with the pretended justice of the cause, & none would yet espie his drift, which under the colour of publique good, went [Page 12] about to erect a Monarchy for himselfe, or his heires. Having now thrust the iron so farre into the fire, hee studied how to win the heart of Hyrcanus with all manner of obsequiousnesse, and testimonies of friendship, which was not difficult to purchase; this Prince permitting himselfe to be overruled by those that would make any semblance of good will towards him.

Behold him now (become as it were) Lord Protector, or Guardian of this flexible spirit, when under pretence of love he possesses in that manner, that all the actions of Hyrcanus past cur­rant no longer by any other au­thority, then the directions and counsells of Antipater. Never­thelesse when he began to egge [Page 13] him forward for to make warre on his brother for the recovery of the royall Throne, hee found his heart so far benumbd that he had much adoe to warm it, and strike a spark of courage into his soule, for the excessive coldnesse and the unmanlinesse of his Na­ture. But at length hee preacht one day effectually, and did edi­fie much, telling him, that this quitting of his kingdome, which he had translated to his brother, was a thing that could not stand with his Honour, and safety of Life. What eye would not distill teares to see him in that con­tempt, & misery, while his bro­ther lived in riot, and pomp: This was to confound the Laws of nature; this was to authorize tyranny. Petty theeves are cast [Page 14] into a Dungeon, or Stocks, and Aristobulus that had usurpt a kingdome, rufled in silk, & spar­kled with Diamonds.

A Kingdome was a shirt which a man should not shift off, but with his life: they were the tales and dreames of idle talking Philosophy, that Crowns were lin'd with thorns, whereas they are Rubies & Dia­monds, that never yet molested any mans head. The life which then Hyrcanus lead, would bet­ter become an Essean Monk, or a Capuchin, then a King: And to conclude, that all the people de­sired with passion to see him re­enstated in his fathers Throne. Hee possest his eares with so powerfull Rhetorique, that hee began now to gaine upon him [Page 15] But there were many reasons, which held him in suspense. The one was his oath, by which hee had renounced his Royalty; the other want of sufficient strength for the enterprise. For the oath, Antipater soon resolved him of that, telling him, he swore a hai­nous crime, and there was no­thing could obliege him to the performance; and for strength, he acquainted him with the aux­iliary forces of lusty Arabians, which he could levy at his com­mand. While hee yet staggerd at this unsteedy footing, he went on to breath into his heart black mistrusts, and jealousies touch­ing his brother, as though (after he had preyed upon his estate) he had an enterprize upon his life; surmising conspiracies to be [Page 16] plotted against him: and this hee did with such art, & sleight, that Hyrcanus yeelded to him, and gave him full commission of war, or peace, to doe according as it liked him best. This conclu­ded, the Apple of discord was flung into the midst: Antipater fail'd not to implore the ayd of Aretas King of the Arabs, who comes up with a mighty army, which like an inundation over­runs all Palestine, committing over­runs all Palestine, committing all outrage, and hostility, sacking & depopulating (without mercy) all the way he went, insomuch, that hee drove Aristobulus to a very narrow strait, beseiging him within Ierusalem the Me­tropolis, and Royall City.

But as the greater Serpent de­vours the lesser; so hapneth it [Page 17] hereupon, that the Romans under the conduct of Pompey the Great, now displaying their dreadfull Eagles on the plaines of Syria, lea­ding an army of fire, before which all other Roytlets or minor Prin­ces were but as chaffe, make this Arabian glad to retire within his own territories, they march on vi­ctoriously without controle, and interpose themselves to prescribe laws, to pronounce peace, or war, how, and to whom soever they pleased. The two brothers made all Courtship to the Roman, to pur­chase his favour, and amity; each one striving eagerly to win him of his side, well perceiving that the obtaining of this would speedily put a period to the controversie. Aristobulus (as the more generous hold, and King-like) at the first ac­cessefound the more favour, in re­gard [Page 18] that among other largesses, he presented him with a vine al of massie gold, one of the rarest, and most exact workmanship in the world, which afterward, for a long time served for an ornament in the Capitoll. At length behold both brothers prostrate at Pom­pey's feet, contesting both, & plea­ding not for a Hamlet, or Vine­yard, but a Kingdome; nothing su­specting that while they staked their fortunes in the hands of a stranger, (who knew no other law but his ambition) insteed of Um­pire he would play the Vulture, & clasp them in his tallons. Antipa­ter seeing at first the ballance to perpend to Aristobulus his side, as one that the Romans had reason to hope would be more serviceable, & advantagious to their designes, never ceased to decry him, to cast [Page 19] black aspertions on his reputati­on, and to work the Romans to a mistrust of his inclination towards them, still fawning, and couching like a Spaniell before Pompey: inso­much that Aristobulus foreseeing that this pernicious spirit, abusing the name, & weaknesse of his bro­ther, would sel both to the Roman, sets himselfe on his gard; where he had but too much resolution, and too little strength to cope with the Army of so potent an Empire. This poore Prince being over­matched, and sinking under the weight of such an encounter, was taken captive, bound in chaines with his two soones and so many daughters, and led away to Rome to furnish a triumph for Pompey: Ierusalem is made tributary, the Pontificate confer'd upon Hyrca­nus, but all the authority commit­ted [Page 20] to the hands of Antipater. This was a spectacle that drew teares evē from those, who before times could not affect Aristobulus, to see this unfortunate King in bolts, la­den with iron, together with his Princely sonnes, and the poor La­dies his daughters, all the heires of their fathers misfortunes who were, leaving their native country, where they reigned in such Ho­nour, for to seek through so un­couth and tedious voyages by sea & [...]and, their thraldome or death, which is the more ordinary wish of unhappy wights.

Antipater reapes the bayes of this victory, and begins (though as yet staind with blood) to esta­blish his litle Monarchy which he had been so long a cōtriving. Hyr­canus seem'd like an old sepulcher which retain'd nothing but the [Page 21] name, or inscription. All things were effected by him in appea­rance, though not any thing in­deed: The other entertain'd the Ro­mans out of his Exchequer, be­stowed presents, sent, and received Embassadours, practised confede­racies, corrupted the forces of his adversaries and rid his way of all the rubs, and impediments that might oppose his advancement, & greatnesse; and made it beleeved that this mild Pontiffie was prime mover and author of all. Then see­ing himselfe each day to grow stronger in repute and authority, the better to assure the Realme for his sonnes after his decease, hee made the elder (namely Phaselus) governour of Ierusalem, and on Herod his younger son he confer'd the Prefectureship of Galile. In short time after, whē he had suckt [Page 22] up all the winde with his flatulent ambition had engendred, and be­ing now at his non ultra, not knowing which way to bend his machinations, he suckt up a glasse of poyson that was ministed unto him at a feast by the device of Malicus his enemie. Behold here the issue of humane practices! Those who are drunk with ambi­tion, and are mad for Honours which they seeke to arrive at by mischievous plots, and all the tra­vell of body and minde, are like those litle bubbles which arise on the surface of the water in a tem­pest, they swell, and burst in a mo­ment. Antipater being dead, his two sonnes, Phaselus and Herod share equally in the succession, each of them maintaines his own station firmly, & studies to temper the matter so as to get Hyrcanus [Page 23] still to act the same part to repre­sent a King. Herod was no sooner entred upō his charge, even while his father was yet living (being not full fifteen yeares of age) shewed early what in time hee would prove by some excursions of his inbred disposition, which some­times hee made to sallie out, like those litle streaks, and sparks of heat in the ayre, that burst out of a cloud, and then after flash in lightning. He was of a fraudulent, and malignant spirit, ambitious e­ven to a degree of madnes, whose fingers did alwaies itch to bee im­brued in blood, and slaughter; and indeed he stained his tender years and the prologue of his reigne with effusion of humane blood, putting to the sword Ezekias, who indeed lived in the esteem of a Rover & common robber, but [Page 24] he cut in peeces many other Iews with him without discerning the guiltlesse, fed the guilty, which caused that many innocent soules were involv'd in this common ru­ine. The mothers of these people who were massacred by Herod, stirr'd not out of the Temple, la­menting, and with their heire di­sheveld, demanding justice from Hyrcanus, who was but an Idoll, or Statue of Majestie. Notwith­standing being importun'd with the cryes of these distressed wo­men, & set on by some of his No­bility, he caused Herod to be sum­mond for to appeare in judge­ment. In this action it was well that this young Prince shewed some resolution, and gave some assurance of courage. Others that were accused came to this Parlia­ment of Iudea, all sad & dejected, [Page 25] but he arrived thither as to a feast or Theatre, attended with a flou­rishing convoy clad in Skarlet, all perfum'd and his haire frizel'd, & moreover with Letters of recom­mendation from the Romans, which were writ in the stile of au­thority, and military language, commanding the Iudges to acquit him without any further processe. Hee was scarce fifteen yeares of age, and yet with his very presence dasht the Iudges, and Advocates so out of countenance that of all those that had provided long ha­ranges against him, there was not one that durst open his mouth while he was there. One of the Iudges whose name was Sameas, a right honest man, and of more courage then all the rest, spake a­loud to King Hyrcanns, who was there present: Idoe not wonder [Page 26] that this young Lord appeares be­fore this Tribunal in such equi­page every man would secure him selfe as well as he may; but I doe wonder Sir, that you and your Counsell should omit this de­meanour, as if he came hither not to be judg'd, but to cut the Iudges throats. You will now pardon him in favour, but he will one day assacinate you in justice. And in­deed of this whole Senate there scap'd not one that Herod did not put to death, when he had got the full power of the kingdome, ex­cept him onely that had delivered his opinion of him with this bold simplicity. It is recorded of this Sameas, how that some yeares af­ter a question being made of re­ceiving Herod to bee their King; when others did stiffely oppose it, he spake freely that hee gave his [Page 27] suffrage to Herod, & as they were wondring at the speech, marvell not at the matter (quoth he) God would give you a King in his an­ger, and hee could not finde one naughtier then Herod: He is the scourge which you doe want to chastise your infidelity. Hyrcanus then seeing the Iudges somewhat animated by the speech of Sameas and to be more inclined to the side of lustice then Mercy, made him secretly to slink away, for hee lo­ved him intirely, and so hatcht the egge of a Cockatrice within his own bosome. Herod who came not any way behind his Father in pollicie, following his examples and practices adhered firmly unto the Romans, winning them by all manner of observances, and enter­taining Hyrcanus with all plea­sance, and flattery. The kingdome [Page 28] of Iudea seemd as yet to bee farre enough from his reach, Phaselus as the elder held the better part of it: Aristobulus whom you have seen led away in chaines to Rome, had yet two sonnes, whereof the elder call'd Alexander was father to chast Mariamne, whose pati­ence we doe here blazon; the o­ther was Antigonus, who spunne Herod a spindle full of matter to untwist. But hee was soone rid of both; for unfortunate Alexander successour of his father Aristobu­lus his disasters, being come to the field with certaine forces, which he had pickt up as well as his weak fortunes enabled him, was opprest by the Romans, who came to the assistance of Herod. Antigonus be­ing got loose from captivity, wherein he was detained at Rome, together with his father Aristobu­lus, [Page 29] cut out much employment too for Herod. For casting himself in­to the armes of the Parthians, hee made them so many promises, and swel'd them with such hopes that they undertook to invest him with the kingdome: and forthwith they made preparations by Sea & Land, and prevailed so far both by force, and cunning, that they chased out Hyrcanus, & Phaselus: Herod very narrowly escapt his life, and though he had a courage of steele, yet was hee so amaz'd with this surprise, that hee went very neer to make himself away. Hyrcanus was very coursly hand­led by the command of his Ne­phew Antigonus, he had his eares cropt off, and so was made fore­ver uncapable of the Pontificate. Phaselus, Herods brother, being so enraged with this unexpected [Page 30] chance of fortune, dasht his brains against a stone.

Herod, who had alwaies stuck as close to the Romans, as the lvy to the wall, seeing his affaires in such a plunge & extream hazard, implores their aid, and complains in most pathetick expressions of the violence of Antigonus, the in­cursions, and hostility of the Par­thians, puts them in minde of the good services of his father Anti­pater, and promises on his part the Ocean, and all the scaly Legions. Which letters found so good successe, that he (beyond all hopes and expectation) was proclaimed King of Iudea, and Antigonus an enemy to the Roman estate because a fugitive, and allyed to the Par­thians. Herod pursues him with hue & cry, being assisted with the forces of the Roman Empire. An­tigonus [Page 31] still unfortunate in all ad­ventures, after a fierce encounter, and long resistance was taken pri­soner, and was the first of any king that by the command of M. An­thony was executed in a manner so unbefitting his quality, and to the Romans unusuall, leaving his head upon a scaffold in the City of An­tioch, for no other reason then seeking to recover his fathers in­heritance: But Strabo saith that M. Anthony knew no other way to make Herod to bee agniz'd for King; both for that there were yet living some of the blood Royall, that were capable of the Scepter; and for that the people loved their naturall King, but hated the stran­ger.

This Tragoedy ended, Herod mounted on the top of fortunes wheele. Lo [...] all the thornes in his [Page 32] way (as he thinks) now grub'd up. There now remained of the Illu­strious race of the H [...]smoneans, but an aged & weather-beaten Prince, one infant Boy, and two Girles to bee defeated. Hyrcanus was that aged Prince, who intruth drew an unwilling breath, whose head many turmoiles, and vicissi­tudes of fortune hastned his hoa­ry haire, he was then held captive in the Parthians hands; but the King, though a Barbarian, had cō ­passion on a milde, debonaire na­ture in so deplor'd a case, so that hee permitted him to live within the walls of Babylon, with all the liberty as might be desired. This poor Prince who lived all his life time without any ambition did beare this change of fortune with an equall temper, and tenor of minde. The Iews who lived in that [Page 33] Kings dominions seeing him so maim'd, and in a manner excoria­ted with stripes, poore & forlorn, yet gave him the respect of a King and expressed such honour, and reverence towards him, that hee found a kingdome (in a manner even in his captivity.) Herod who saw that this man might stand him yet in some steed against those that could disquiet and annoy his anxious and unsetled estate dispat­cheth an Embassadour strait to the King of the Parthians, with many faire presents, and Letters fraught with sugred words, and soothing complements; wherein hee doth beseech him not to bereave him of that onely and best contentment that he had in the world but to ad this curtesie unto his former fa­vours wherewith hee had obliged him: Hyrcanus, saith hee, was his [Page 34] good Benefactor, his Protector, & Father, and since God had now given some repose unto his affairs, it would be a singular comfort un­to him to communicate the Scep­ter, the cares and pleasures of a King with one so trusty & so wor­thy to be beloved. The Parthian King willing to gratifie Herod whom he saw to be supported by the Roman Empire (which he did more feare for its puissance, then honour for its valour) granted full leave to Hyrcanus to goe whither he would. He (good man) consul­ted with the principall men of his nation, who did altogether dis­swade him from it, but the easines of his good nature (which did al­waies swallow the bait without heeding the hooke) yeelded to those supposed curtesies of Herod, and so returned straight to Ierusa­lem, [Page 35] where hee was received with all demonstrations of joy, & ami­ty. Behold no wall the Royall fa­mily in the hands of this barba­rous usurper. Hyrcanus had but one daughter, who took not after her father kinde, for shee was ex­tream haughty, and in this servi­tude did fret, and champ upon the bit, with much discontent, she was the mother of two children, a Boy and a Girle, his name was Aristo­bulus, and hers Mariamne, who was after married to Herod. Mari­amne was esteemed the most beau­tifull Princesse in the world. For Gellius who went about to survey the rarest features in the world, for to return a List of them to M. Anthony, having well scan'd the most excellent pieces of Nature, when he saw Mariamne, he pro­tested that all other beauties were [Page 36] course, & cast in a mould of earth, in comparison of this which see­med to him to have dropt from the spheres, & to have been drawn by some divine, and immortall Limmer. This man saw but the bark, and casket, and yet was ravi­shed with admiration; but her comelinesse of body was nothing in comparison of the noble quali­ties of her soule. This was a tender Imp of the stock of the famous Machabees, well verst in Gods laws, discreet, modest, & respect­full, that as Susanna, but aboue all couragious and patient; living in the Court of Herad as Iob upon the dunghill. Never was beauty, & goodnesse so discountenanc'd, & unhappy in the fortunes of one person. This creature that might have been courted by so many Princes, that might have had such [Page 37] attendance ever ready at her feet, had now Herod for her Lord, who had nothing of a man but skin, & shape; and it was even all one to couple the Lamb with the Lion, the Dove with the Hawk, and tye the living to the dead, joyning thē mouth to mouth, as to wed such a Lady to such a Monster. But hee that had now the power in his own hand, sues for her very pas­sionatly, both for her unparallel'd beauty, and moreover the better to strengthen his estate, considering that the alliance of this young La­dy, who descended from so great kindred, would adde honour to him, and his house, who was but lately sprung up, and might make him to place more confidence in the lews, and make them more lo­ving, and loyall to him.

Hyrcanus the Grandfather of [Page 38] Mariamne, and Alexandra her mother, seeing that Herod had now got his head aboue the wa­ters, and was become master of his affaires, having now got the Scep­ter into his own hands, although by tyranny, and intrusion; yet they measuring all by his place, & for­tunes, not by his person and con­ditions, judg'd that this marriage might be yet for their advantage, and that his wife might supple his harsh nature, and make him more favourable to the Royall house. This noble maid fore-saw well that to put her into the hands of Herod, was to cast her into the Li­ons jawes: But not to contradict those to whom shee owed her be­ing, and to obey the lawes of ne­cessity, shee submitted her neck to the yoke, fortifying her royall heart against all the stormes that [Page 39] seemed to threaten & come thron­ging upon her. Behold her now married! Herod loues her, as the Huntsman doth his Venison for his own ends, and benefit: not loo­sing by love one graine of his for­mer ambition, or cruelty. This perverse thing held a kingdome like a woolfe by the eares, still fic­kle, and shaking, and when his af­faires seemed to be well setled, hee studied nothing but how to rid himselfe of those, whom hee had stript naked of their fortunes, and strength. His Queen could finde no respect, nor could she any whit mollifie, and reclaim his savage conditions; hee shewed how litle affection he bare to her soly, when he wrought for his own pretended interests, at that time when it was debated whom to Surrogate to be grand Pontifie in liew of H [...] ­nus [Page 40] who (by his late deformati­on) being irregular in the law, was excluded from the Altar. He­rod saw every day before his eyes in his own Court young Aristo­bulus, the only brother of his wife a Prince every way accomplisht, and generally designed for the Tiare, yet he casts his eyes abroad and goes to seek beyond Euphra­tes in the City of Babylon a for­raigne Iew named Ananell, & cre­ated him chiefe Priest. This was a pill which Alexandra the mother of Aristobulus, and Mariamne could not easily swallow. It was in vain to candy o're the businesse: Shee saw manifestly the rejection of her house, in that her son (not­withstanding so many obligati­ons) was in a manner dispossest of an honour, which blood & nature, and the generall vote of the world [Page 41] did call him unto, and to be be­stowed on a man of no worth, no repute. Shee could not well re­presse her anger from breaking out, and that in a higher straine then the miseries of the times, and malice of Herod would suffer un­questioned. Mariamne all this while injoying the tranquility of her noble minde, goes upon a day unto the King, and with her natu­rall gracefulnesse, and sweet carri­age tells him, that the prop, & stay of her house was sore fhaken, and greatly weakned, & at the present in such a plight that she had no joy to hold a Scepter any longer: She desired only shee might quit the world with honour: Had he then bestowed the Miter on her bro­ther, he had advanced a creature, whom he could not stand in feare of, his Scepter being thereby the [Page 42] more secured, and of whom hee could not (in all reason) but hope the best, who was but young, and tender as wax (being in his own hand) she could temper, and stamp what impressions he pleased. This act would haue made him reigne in hearts as well as Provinces, when men should see him the fa­ther, and protectour of the young son of Hyrcanus, whose vertues he had alwaies hououred. Lastly, that the honor which did redound to her by his alliance could not seem to her consummate, so long as she saw her own blood debar'd from those honours, and promo­tions which he could place them in, without any prejudice to his own estate.

Herod suffred himselfe to bee wonne for that time by the char­ming language of Marinmne, and [Page 43] when he had well pondred the bu­sinesse, after mature deliberation, he resolved to confer the Pontifi­cate on young Aristobulus his bro­ther in law, which was performed with great solemnity. He assem­bles his friends in the Pallace hall; then calling for Alexandra, hee made a set speech against her in the presence of them all, much cō ­plaining of her behaviour, and tel­ling them that she studied nothing but how to thwart, and disquiet his affaires, and to take from him a Scepter which Heaven made him to purchase with much travell, & sweat, for to put it into the hands of an Infant to the prejudice of the Queen her daughter: neverthe­lesse he could forget injuries, but could not forget his nature, which was to doe well to those that sought to doe him harme. Inte­stimony [Page 44] and confirmation hereof, hee conferres the Pontificate on her son, his purpose being never a­ny other, and the Surrogation of Ananel made with no other inten­tion then to continue for a time, while hee did expect the child should grow to riper yeares. This poore mother ambitious accor­ding to and beyond the nature of her sex (upon this tender of the Pontificate) was so transported with joy, that her heart melted at her eyes, and thereupon avowed freely to Herod, that she attempted all the means possible to retain the Tiare in the royall house, judging it a matter very unbefitting to transfer it another way: but as for the Kingdome that she never pre­tended any right to it, & that such designes were farre from her thoughts: when it would please [Page 45] God to sequester her from the world she would dye with a con­tented heart, leaving her son great Pontifie, and her daughter Queen. Moreover if she had lasht it out be­yond the bounds of duty and de­cency in uncivill speeches, that she was excusable, as being a mother very tenderly affected towards a son that deserv'd to bee belov'd, the mother in law of a King to whom such a neer affinity would permit some more liberty of speech, and the daughter of a King to whom servitude was such a tough morsell, that her stomacke could not well digest: and since he did deal fo friendly with her, that he should have no occasion hence forth to complain of her contu­macy, and disobedience. Hereup­on they joyne hands, and behold them now very good friends. But [Page 46] alas how like are the friendships of this world to the felicity of it: Worldly friendship is fickle & de­ceitfull, & worldly felicity hangs on a rotten Cable, and hath its foundation on the Quick-fands. This poore mother rejoyced for a little tickling of her ambition, but could not perceive that her sonne was not a Priest indeed, but a sa­crifice to the cruelty of Herod. Wise Mariamne, who by long ex­perience had learn't to hold pro­sperity stil in suspicion, would not permit her heart to be so dilated, nor give the reynes to her joyes, but that shee arm'd her selfe each day against the revolt of fottune. The feast of Tabernacles which is so solemnly celebrated among the Iews, being come, Ananel after he had served a while for a Cipher is shamefully discarded. Aristobu­lus [Page 47] begins to exercise his function: He was then but seventeen yeares of age, but of a very tall stature, well proportion'd, and streight as a Palm-tree, glorious as a Star, and very much resembling his father: When the people saw him accou­tred in his Pontificalibus, which were full of Majesty, marching up to the Altar, and performing his office with such gravity and de­cency, hee seem'd to them like a new Sunne that issued out of the Clouds, and came to guild the world, which was before enwrapt in gloomy darknesse. The hearts of al the Hebrews which had groa­ned under the pressures of civill warres, did now spread like Roses by the favourable aspect of this young Pontifie. His naturall comelinesse enchafed (as it were) within his Majestich Robes did [Page 48] cast an incredible luster, and state­linesse, which did dazle the eyes of the spectators. Some beheld him with a wist, and earnest look, remaining like statues, but yet their teares prov'd that their eyes were not of marble. Others did betray their affections by many dumb emblems, and inarticulate expressions. Others gave vent to their joyes, and their mouthes de­livered what their hearts con­ceiv'd; not being able to forbeare acclamations, though somewhat too free in respect of the times; yet pardonable in their simple af­fection. They call'd to minde the prowesse of those ancient Mac­chabees, who had redeem'd them from Idolatry; they knew how that poore Hyrcanus was but a Ghost, or shadow surviving his own funerall. They had fresh in [Page 49] memory the Grandfather of this young Pontifie, the great Aristo­bulus, who was led away mana­cled, and fast bound in cords like a Gallie-slave to Rome. They were not ignorant how that Alexander his father, and his uncle Antigonus had lost their lives in opposing the usurpation of a stranger. This young Prince alone remain'd, that had escapt so many wracks, and they saw that in his youth did live and spring forth the hopes of their country, and (as it is easie to be­lieve what we love) they perswa­ded themselves, that Herod who at the beginning demanded the Realme in the name of this young Prince Aristobulus, was now to re­linquish the booty, yeelding to e­quity, and right. And for this ef­fect, they did expresse their ap­plause with the more freedome. [Page 50] But the ignorant multitude were far out in their accompts.

Herod having well observ'd the posture of this peoples counte­nance, saw that to talke out-right according to maxims of state, or to make a grave morall speech, would have savoured somewhat of a Clark, (and this was not his method or ordinary stile) but en­ters into a furious jealousie, & cau­seth the Pontifie, and his mother, and his own wife to be so narrow­ly watcht, and their actions pried into, that they could not wag a fin­ger but he was advertis'd thereof. The prudent Mariamne, among these suspicions, still living in good respect, appeasing discontents on either party, as much as her em­ployments would permit her: But her mother Alexandra being prickt to the heart to see her selfe [Page 51] among so many spies, and eves­droppers, who ever used, and still would faine converse with Royall freedome, resolv'd to play ha­zard, either to quit losses, or to double them, and to break the bonds of her specious servitude, or to offer her neck to Herods fau­chion. So high a point did her mi­series carry her to! In this extre­mity, what doth shee? Cleopatra that Queene, whose name had tra­vel'd the world over, and fill'd it with the noise, was at that time in Aegypt; and she hated Herod na­turally, both for his barbarous cō ­ditions, and for some respects of her own: for shee understood by good intelligence that he had en­termedled in her affaires, and had counsell'd M. Anthony to forsake her, yea, and to take away her life too. This Tyrant was so accu­stom'd [Page 52] to the word Kill, that hee prescribes easily to others those remedies which himselfe us'd for his own maladies. 'Tis a strange memorable thing that Cleopatra being to passe one day through Iu­dea, he took a resolution to send her to another world, thinking to gratifie Mark. Anthony by this meanes: but his friends disswaded him from it, telling him it was an enterprise too rash, and difficult, & able to ruine his fortunes eternal­ly. But yet the project was never discovered. Cleopatra had but too much reason to hate Herod: which did embolden distressed Alexan­dra to write unto her in these tearmes.

Cleopatra having received these Letters, made answer without de­lay, and invited her to come down to Aegypt with all speed conve­nient, and her son with her, telling her that she held it an honour for her to bee able to serve for an har­bour to the afflictions of such a Princesse. Departure is fully resol­ved of, but the meanes to contrive it was a piece of difficultie. Poore Io knew no way to steale her selfe away from this Argus, who had [Page 56] so many eyes upon her: at last (as the wits of women are nimble for inventions, especially in cases that neerely concern them) shee with­out imparting her intention to a­ny body, no not to her daughter Mariamne, fearing lest her too soft, and tender nature would ad­vise her to continue still within the bounds of patience, rather then to undergoe so dangerous, and wea­risome a voyage: shee (I say) con­sorting the businesse onely to her own fancy, caus'd two Coffins (by an unlucky omen) to be provided for to put her selfe and her son in; (thinking by this meanes to delude the diligence of the Guard, where in they were to bee conveyed to the sea-side, where lay a Shippe ready to waft them, and so to save her life through the domini­ons of death. But by misfortune [Page 57] one of her servants named Esop one of those that should have car­ried the Coffin, going to visit one Sabbion, a man well affected to the house of Alexandra, hapned to let fly some speeches touching this adventure of his Mistris, as think­ing hee had talkt to one that was privie to all her secrets. Perfidious Sabbion had no sooner pumpt out the whole story from this groom, but he repaires straight to Herod, to disclose all that hee had heard, judging this to bee a very expedi­ent course for to purchase a recon­ciliation: for hee was a long time suspected to bee of the faction of Alexandra. Herod, when he recei­ved this intelligence, multiplies the number of his spies and senti­nells. The poore Lady is appre­hended, and taken out of the Cof­fin (as out of the Sepulchre of the [Page 58] dead, & condemned to live a lon­ger captivity) all abasht, & chafing for that the Comoedy sorted not to a wisht effect, thinking that (since shee mist her ayme) shee should not desire to live any lon­ger. Yet notwithstanding Hered (whether it was that he feared the great name of Cleopatra, or that he would not startle Alexandra, that hee might oppresse her by some more facile way,) did nothing to her for the present: He kept close within himselfe, dissembling over the matter without speaking one word thereof, though hee saw the clouds to gather thick, and ready to burst into thunder and tempest.

This royall Divell that had rid so many soules out of the world by Martiall Law, and force of Armes would now send away one in sport. Vpon a day in sommer, [Page 59] as hee dined with unhappy Alex­andra, fayning all that had past to be buried in deep oblivion, tells her that in favour of youth, hee would play the young man, and invites Aristobulus his brother in law to play at Racket, or some such exercise. The match is made, the emulation growes hot, the young Prince being earnest at his game had not plaid long before he was all in a sweat, as many other Lords, and Gentlemen were. Be­hold they runne all to the waters, which did glide along neere the place of recreation. Hered (who well knew the custome of Aristo­bulus, and presupposed that hee would not fayle to goe and fling himselfe into these cold bathes,) doth villanously complot with some youngsters, who (under co­lour of sporting) should make him [Page 60] drinke more water then should serve to quench his thirst. All things succeed according as hee had forecast. Aristobulus seeing o­thers in the water, strips himselfe of his cloathes, and beares 'them company, hee had no other intent but to swim, play, and skirmish on this element, alwaies dangerous, though not so treacherous as He­rod. The poore sacrifice frisks, & leaps, nothing aware of the mis­fortune that attended him: But the execrable murtherers knew it wel, forespying their opportunity at this fatal sport, they stifle the poor Pontifie under the mercilesse wa­ters, being the 18 yeare of his age, and the first of his Pontificate. This faire sun which arose with such splendor and applause, sets under the waters never to rise a­gain but with the palenes of death [Page 61] in's visage. O humane hopes, where, or what be yee? Meere dreames of waking men, aëry phantasmes of flitting fire, that shine only to be extinguished, and in extinguishing bereave us of light, leaving us a bad stench, and the sorrow of your losse! This Prince in whom was built a new all the hopes, and glory of the roy, all house of the Hasmoneans; This Prince that should have reunited the Miter, and the Diadem, and re­vived the honour of a race quite extinct, behold him now by ac­cursed treason stifl'd under water, in such an age, and of so comely a personage, that they made this ac­cident by so much the more full of pitty, by how much it was more desperate of all remedy. At this newes all the City of Ierusa­lem was in such amazement, as if [Page 62] Nebuchadnezar being returned from the other world stood again before her gates. Every where there was nothing but teares and lamentations, but horrour and a­stonishment, out-cries, and the image of death. You would have said that each house carried forth to buriall their first borne, as had been seen long before to fall out in Egypt. But above all others A­lexandra the pitious mother affli­cted her selse with sorrow that would admit of no consolation: Sometime shee bemoan'd, lying prostrate on the dead corps of her son, seeking within his eyes (those two ecclipsed luminaries) and on his cold lips for some remnant of life: Sometimes she roles her eyes like some franticke Priestesse of Sacchus, crying for fire & sword, halters and precipices, that shee [Page 63] might put a period to her life and miseries! Heavie Mariamne, (though the patientst of all) yet had much adoe to withstand the violent assault of incomparable griefe: shee lov'd this brother en­tirely, as the portrait of her selfe, as the dispositary of her heart, as the hope of her house too misera­bly rent, and all wounded with griefe (as she was;) yet (good La­dy) she thought of the sorrows of her mother, and lies behind the dead body of her brother, as if she had been the very shadow there­of. Then turning to God with an affectionate heart she sends up this [...]jaculation.

‘O my God behold mee now in an estate wherein I have no­thing more to feare but thy ju­stice, and nothing more to hope for then thy mercies. Hee for [Page 64] whom I fear'd, and in whom I hop't all that might be fear'd or hopt for in all the events, and af­faires of this world is ravisht from me by some secret decree of thy providence, which I have taught my hart to adore, though the weaknesse of my apprehen­sion cannot trace the footsteps of it. If among so many calami­ties, I did yet suck any sweetnes from the world in presence of this object, which thou hast be­reaved mee of, loe I am now robd of all; hence for ward, I shal finde nothing but worm wood, that so renouncing all earthly comforts, I may learne to rellish those which are proper to thy children reserv'd in Heaven. Be­hold how pious and gentle souls can extract hony out of the rock and turn all to merit even the di­stillation [Page 65] of a teare that trickles down the cheekes. The impati­ent, as Alexandra, wound them­selves without all consolation, torture themselves without re­medy, and sometimes split a­gainst the rock of dispaire with­out remission.’

What shall wee say that Herod too in this sad consort of grief did beare his part? He made (indeed) an outward shew, and by close hy­pocrisie, did well personate a reall mourner. He curst the sport, rail'd against fortune: He charg'd Hea­ven with sinister envy in berea­ving him of an object, on whom he desired to expresse all the cor­diall love, and respect that he bore to the royall house, to the which he did (in part) owe his advance­ment.

He went to visit the Queen, and [Page 66] her Mother very ceremoniously, and when he beheld them bemoa­ning about the dead body, the bri­nish teares gusht out of his eyes: whether it was that he had taught them to drop at command, to car­ry this dissembling the more arti­ficially, or whether indeed he had some compassion, or pang of grief beholding on the one side this ten­der flowre, so early cut down with deaths impartiall sickle, together with so many celestiall graces, which found their period and ho­rizon, at the point of their uprising and nativity; and on the other side considering the poore Queene drown'd in a sea of sorrow, which to behold might force teares from rocks. This perfidious wretch that had something yet of a man, and I believe that nature for that time did extort those teares from [Page 67] his barbarous cruelty: hitherto he feigned himselfe to have supprest his griefe manfully; then turning to the Ladies, tells them that hee was not come then to dry up the flouds of their teares so soone, which had but too just a subject to be spent upon, himselfe had not the power to keep back his, he was forc't to give nature leave to haue her course, and act her part, time would shortly act his too, and ap­ply a plaister to their griefes; that he would performe in the memo­ry of the dead Prince as much as an only son could expect from an affectionate father, and potent King, and that thenceforth hee would bee the son of Alexandra, the husband and brother eke of Mariamne, since God would needs redouble his obligations by the losse that they had suffered.

Genuine Tytanny, what is it but an insatiable appetite of revenge? Alexandra who (a man would think) should have thundred in in­jurious and reproachfull termes, as one that knew well that Herod (whatsoever hee put upon it) was author of this Tragoedy, did dis­semble the matter very strongly without shewing towards the king on her part, so much as a discon­tented look when time and place would favour her. Herod with­drawing himselfe now from the stage, thought hee had acted his part wondrous well, without ca­sting any shadow of suspicion on his side, seeing that Alexandra did not utter a syllable, whose manner was to pout, and quarrell on farre smaller occasions. To bring in the last lenitive, he causes the funcralls of the deceased Prince to bee cele­brated [Page 69] with such pomp, and mag­nificence, that nothing more could be added, both for the order, or conduct, and for the rarity of the spices, and odours, and also for the costly structure of the Sepulchre: the simpler sort did verily belieue that this proceeded from a true, & sincere affection; but wiser judge­ments said they were but feigned teares, or wrung out perforce, and that Herod could not be sad in ear­nest for this accident, which took the mote out of his eye, and did lettle him in full possession of the Kingdome of Iude a. Alexandra joyning the passion of sorrow with that of vengeance, fayl'd not presently after funerall rites per­formed to advertise Queen Cleo­patra of all that had haphed, and in such dolefull accents, that each period seem'd to have beene writ [Page 70] in teares of bloud. Cleopatra, who was already well prepar'd, took fire suddenly: shee entertaines the matter so hotly, as though it had been her own, she gives the alarme to the whole Court, shee stormes & doth continually lash the eares of M. Anthony, crying, that this was a thing insupportable, to see a forreigner weare a Scepter, that did by no right belong to him, to massacre the heyre apparent with such barbarous cruelty, to keep poore Queenes in slavery against all reason, and the priviledge of their births. Anthony who knew that Herod was his creature, & the work of his own hands, did not willingly give eare to these com­plaints: Neverthelesse to satisfie Cleopatra, he swore a solemn oath, that hee would examine the busi­nesse, and would send for Herod, [Page 71] and if he found him guilty of such barbarousnesse, he would execute exemplary justice upon him. Be­hold Herod is summoned to Lao­dicea, where M. Anthony for a time was to sojourn', hither hee is citee to make his appearāce, & to purge himselfe of the murther of Aristo­bulus, which hee was held to be the author of. This was a crack of thunder to his guilty soule, which did terribly awaken him, when he least of all thought of it, & put him in such fearefull dumps, and ap­prehensions that can scarce bee i­magined. On the one side hee had before his eyes the guilt of his of­sence, and the voice of blood which cryed loudly in his eares: On the other side, hee saw that all his fortune did depend on M. An­thony, who would not have stirr'd then, but by the instigations of [Page 72] Cleopatra his mortall adversary, & whom hee knew to have had a great longing after the Kingdome of Iudea for her own accommoda­tion. But nothing tortur'd his braines so much as some franticke fit of jealousie, for hee imagined that Anthony, a wanton Prince, who went about to observe the beauties of Queenes, would have had a tast of his wife, whose pi­cture had been before brought un­to him, and that for to purchase his quietnesse, he would cause him to prostitute her, as a sacrifice to his lustfull pleasures.

The man was puzzl'd and per­plext on all sides, and did descry every where objects of feare and danger; sometimes he resolves on a voluntary banishment, some­times hee thought it the better course to rid himselfe out of the [Page 73] world, another time he musters up his wits, and strength, and goes a­bout to make resistance, but no­thing seem'd better in his judge­ment, then to delay, and protract the businesse, as much as he could possibly. Anthony being ready prest for his expedition against the Parthians, sends for him in good earnest; his delayes, and eva­sions did improve the former su­spicion. He must needs travell: or resolve to loose all. Hee takes leave of his Mother-in-law Alex­andra, and his wife Mariamne, without all feare, or complaining, not shewing any signe of discon­tentment, as if he had been tomake a journy only for pleasure. More­over, he had yet his own Mother at Court, and his Sister Salome, to whom hee gave strict charge to watch heedfully the steps and be­haviour [Page 74] of those whō he thought had wrapt this web for him. Then taking his unkle Ioseph aside, hee speakes to him in these words; Uncle, you know the businesse which cals me to Laodicea, which is indeed of no smal consequence, seeing my innocence undermin'd with so much study, & eagernes, and by many powerfull persona­ges, who were the more to be fea­red, if their purposes could take so much effect as it hath of affection. But I hope to break through this mist, and fowle weather, that you shall see me triumph over calum­ny by mine integrity, as you have er'st seen me triumph over hostile attempts by mine Armes: if God dispose of it otherwise, all this trouble is procured mee for my beauteous wifes sake, on whō M. Anthony might have some plot, & [Page 75] this might be the occasion of hast­ning my journey, for to give his passion more ease, and liberty. But for the present I adjure you by the respect you did alwaies beare to­wards me, by my fortune which you doe reverence, by our bloud and nature, that if (peradventure) you doe understand that I bee o­therwise entreated, then my qua­lity and innocence will beare, you permit not after the death of Herod that his bed be injur'd. Maintaine the Kingdome for you and yours, and cause my wife forthwith to be dispatcht out of the world, for to beare mee company in another life. Kill her resolutely for feare some take possession of her after my death. If soules departed have any sense, or seeling of the affaires of this world, this will greatly so­lace, and content me.

Ioseph was not a litle startled at this tale, yet promises notwith­standing to put all things in execu­tion according to his will, in case necessity required it. But his for­tune alwaies dreadfull, and invin­cible, made him to conceive farre better hopes: Hereupon hee sets him on his way, taking with him the choicest pieces, and ornaments in his Treasury for to present un­to those, whom he should stand in need of: shewing moreover such confidence in his countenance, as he harbour'd dispaire in his heart.

When he was arrived at Laodi­cea, he found many strange infor­mations, & articles drawn against him, which did charge him sorely with the murther of Aristobulus. It was made manifest to M. An­thony, that Herod had alwaies his eyes, and thoughts bent upon the [Page 77] kingdome of Iudea, set on by his furious and exorbitant ambition, so that nothing more did check his hopes then to see Aristobulus living, to whom hee knew in his conscience, the Scepter so justly to belong, that he durst not beg it himselfe from the Romans, but with the title of Regency, & Pro­tectorship, during the minority of the right heire. That hee had con­verted his Regency first into a Royalty, then to Tyranny, remo­ving (as much as possibly hee could) the blood Royall from all dignities, for to advance men of naught into such places, witnesse Ananel substituted to the Pontifi­cate, whereof Hyrcanus was dis­poil'd, that which made him change his purpose was not his good will and affection, but im­portunity, and the apparent danger [Page 78] which he saw to arise by the peo­ples insurrection, for the repulse of the Royall family. That Ari­stobulus being promoted to the and receiv'd with the generall shouts, and acclamations of the people, this action was so distastfull and odious unto him, that hee could not conceale the madnesse of his envy, under the mask of his ordinary hypocrisie, that since that time he never gave over to persecute the deceased Prince and his mother, in such a­manner, that they finding no place of rest among the living, hid them­selves in the Coffins among the dead, so to be convei'd to Sea, and thence to saile for Egypt; that hee caused them to bee apprehended in the fact, and that from thence forward, he studied nothing more then how to rid them out of his [Page 79] way, that the young Prince died in the waters not solitary, & aban­doned to himselfe, but stifled ma­nifestly by some insolent Pages of the Court, and bosome of He­rod.

All this processe, or bill of infor­mation (say they) was so evident, and cleare, as if it were written with the Sun-beam. The voice of blood reacht up into heaven, that the Traytor could not still the cry. They shew'd the picture of this poore Prince, which was a litle be­fore his death brought into Egypt for the singular admiration of his beauty, they made his Ghost also to speak, & to demād justice of M. Anthony, for being so inhumane­ly assascinned in the flowre and spring of his yeares, by the black­est treason that ever had been de­vis'd. The regrets and sorrows of [Page 80] the poor mother amongst all these were not pretermitted in her ab­sence. Cleopatra did act on the Tragoedy, the onset was hot, the battery very fierce, and violent: Herod who never wanted an elo­quent, and smooth tongue in his own behalfe, makes his Apology with a most demure, and sober modest countenance.

This pernicious head delivered this speech with such grace, and plausibility that hee tooke off the edge of their spleene. Such power hath Rhetorick even in the tongue of a miscreant! Loe he is past all danger, being as yet but got abord (as they say,) walking in the Court of Anthony with all freedome, ex­pecting his sentence of justificati­on. In the meane while (as he was courteous & liberal on occasions) by vertue of his donatives hee wonne the hearts of the chiefest men in the Court, and made all the accusations to be but the pettish­nesse, and spleen of a woman mis­inform'd. [Page 88] inform'd. M. Anthony himselfe told Cleopatra that she did ill to intermedie so much in forreigne Kingdomes, and if that he should offend by her incitement shee might stirre up enemies to the ha­zard of his estate; that Herod was a King, and it was not fit to use him as a subject, nay it was his happinesse to have him rather for his friend then his foe. While mat­ters were a canvasing in Anthony's Court, the Mother and sister of Herod fail'd not to observe with all diligent circumspection the actions of the Queene Mariamne and of her Mother Alexandra. His Vncle Joseph was Keeper of the Prison, and did often visit Mari­amne, sometimes for businesse, and sometimes for complement. This man began to be sindged like a butterfly with beames shot from [Page 89] the eyes of this incomparable beauty, and did beare a great deal of affection towards her, and though hee saw himselfe farre e­nough from all manner of preten­sions, yet notwithstanding he took a delight, that hee had plac'd his love on so high an object. This passion turn'd his braines, and made him foolish and talkative, being already clowne enough by ill education, which made him talke wonderfull ridiculous, and foolish. For one day when there was a speech made of the affecti­on that Herod beare to his wife Mariamne, Alexandra her Mo­ther jeer'd at it very ironically, ac­cording to her fashion; Ioseph who would have the Queene still to entertaine a good liking of her husband his Master, whether hee was mad or drunke spake with a loud voice:

Madam, let your Mother Ale­xandra speak her pleasure, but to shew you an evident testimony of the love the King your husband beares you, he gave me a charge, in case he were put to death himself, to kill you also, for that he could not be without your company in the other world.

At this speech the poor Ladies grew pale and wan with feare. A­las the Tyrant (quoth Alexandra in her heart) what will hee doe be­ing alive, since that in his death he causeth those to die that survive him. In the mean while there went a rumour very briefe in Ierusalem (the dreames of credulous men) that Herod was dead, that M. An­thony had sent him to execution, being convicted of the death of Aristobulus. Whether this bruite was divulged abroad by some of [Page 91] Herod's enemies, or whether him­selfe made it be spread secretly, for to prove the countenance and inclinations of men. Wise Mari­anme seem'd to give it no credit. Alexandra grew impatient and shrudded like a bird on the perch, beseeching Ioseph with all suppli­cations possible to take them out of the pallace, and to lead them to the Court of Guard of the Roman legions, committing them into the protection of Colonel Iulius, that they might thence passe with safe conduct to M, Anthony; for shee greatly desir'd that this PRINCE might see her daughter; perswa­ding her selfe that as soone as hee should have a view of her, hee should be captivated with her eies, and would shew all possible favour. These intentions being naughty, had no good successe at [Page 92] all, and all the pursuits of Alexan­dra serv'd for nothing but to vent her passion. Herod at length re­turnes victoriously with authen­tique testimonies of his justificati­on, notwithstanding all the endea­vours of Cleopatra: God reser­ving this Paracide for a Cain's life which concluded with a wretch­ed, and fearefull death. His mother and sister fail'd not to present him forthwith at his arrivall with a modell of their mystery, and to acquaint him with the intenti­on that Alexandra had to put her selfe under the power of the Ro­mans. Salome, who envy'd Mari­amne beyond measure, dipping her serpentine tongue in the gall of calumnie, accused her of secret fa­miliarity with Ioseph: Wherefore Herod who was extreamly jealous, thought instantly to cure it, and [Page 93] taking Mariamne apart, askt her whence proceeded that amitie which shee had contracted with Ioseph. The most Chast Queen, whose patience was never van­quisht, shew'd by her eies, by the posture of her countenance, and speeches that shee was so stung with this black slander that her perfidious husband did easily per­ceive how farre she was from such thoughts; and (in truth) being a­sham'd of himselfe for proposing such Questions unto her, he crav'd pardon, shedding hot tears, and thanking her for proving so faith­full to his bed, and making a thou­sand protestations of immortal affection. The good Lady some­what displeas'd to see so much hypocrisie, told him covertly, that indeed hee bare reall love to his wife who would needs have her [Page 94] company in the other world. He­rod presently apprehended at halfe a word what shee meant, and en­tred into such distemper and vio­lent passiō, that he seemed to be di­stracted, tearing his beard & hair, and crying Ioseph had betray'd him, and that now hee must needs say hee had too much intelligence with Mariamne; otherwise no man could be so simple and sottish as to reveale so important a secret. Hereupon he commands Ioseph to be kill'd outright for a sacrifice to his returne, not permitting him to come in his sight, nor would he hearken to one word of excuse. It did want but a litle that he did not thē fel down more sacrifices to his wide insatiate cruelty, and did not put Mariamne too to death; but the assured proofe of her inno­cence, and the impatient heate of [Page 95] his love suspended the blow, that hee might make his anger (like nimble lightning) fly further off, which hee discharged on Alexan­dra, whom hee did confine for a [...]me, keeping her asunder from Queene Mariamne her daughter, taking it now for certaine that it was in her forge that all the ma­chinations, & conspiracies for his ruine were fram'd and fill'd.

Not long after, Herod saw him­selfe imbarkt in another businesse no lesse dangerous then the for­mer. M. Anthony (who ever lent him his shoulder to support him) had a long time contended against the fortune of Augustus Caesar, and was quite discomfited in the bat­tell of Actium, ending his hopes and life with a sad Catastrophe. This accident astonisht the Ty­rant more then can be imagined, [Page 96] seeing the prop whereon he lean'd, ruin'd: His affaires which hee thought were now well knit, ripe againe in a night, and had him for an adversary who was so forward in his designe for the Empire of the whole world. His friends and foes deem'd him one of the for­lorne hope: He that escap't so ma­ny shipwracks doth not a whit de­spaire in this extremity, he takes a resolution to goe, and find Caesar who was then at Rhodes, and to cast himselfe at his feet: but be­fore he sets out on's journey, hee commits one most barbarous and inhumane act. Hyrcanus the right and lawfull King, who by his gen­tlenesse and facility of nature first rais'd Antipater, then sav'd He­rod's life, promoting him to the Kingdome to the prejudice of his owne blood, was yet surviving in [Page 97] a decrepit age laden with yeares & cares: for he was past fourescore yeares. The Tyrant fearing that he alone being left of the Royall blood, should bee restored to the throne by the requests of the peo­ple, who did tender his innocence, seeing him now at the brinck of the grave flings him in, expelling (by brutish violence) that soule which he was ready to surrender up to nature. This was judg'd meer savage cruelty without any colour of justice, wherewith this abominable monster ever us'd to palliat his actions: others write the death of Hyrcanus to have beene hastned by this occasion.

Alexandra (who could not shake off her ambitiō but with her skin) seeing that Herod went on a voy­age, whence, peradventure, he was never to return, boords her father [Page 98] Hyrcanus, and shews him that the time was come wherein God would make his venerable old age to flourish anew in Royall purple: The Tyrant is intangled in such nets and labyrinths that hee shall never get himself out againe. For­tune knocks at Hyrcanus his dore to render him the Diadem which is due unto him by right of inhe­ritance, and taken from him by tyranny. It remain'd that he would but help himselfe as much as in him lay, and his good fortune would work out the rest. Hyrcanus replies; daughter the time is come that I should rather meditate on my grave then a Royall Throne. You know what esteem I made of greatnesse being yet in an age, and condition when I had all rea­son to entertaine them, yet I have reno [...]ac't them with a free-will, [Page 99] preferring my rest before all the Diadems in the world. Now that I am in the Haven would you have me lanch again into the tempestu­ous Seas: Forbeare such fond speeches (good daughter) I have beheld but too much miseries, talk to me of a Sepulchre, and not of a Scepter. Alexandra replies, that since he did not pretend to the life, nor the fortune of the living, yet notwithstanding that he ought not to neglect his own blood, that he should give way to equity, and he needed not to disquiet himself, but onely to write a few lines to Malchus Lieutenant of Arabia, and hee would supply him with mony & sufficient forces, as much as he had need of. Lastly, he was bound in conscience, and by the law of nature to preserve his daughter and Grand child from [Page 100] the teeth of this Tigre. She did so ply his eares with these & the like reasons, that at length hee yeelded to her, and treats with Malchus, that he should levy for him anum­ber of horse. The Letters are de­livered into the hands of one D [...] ­sitheus (a Cosen of this Ioseph which Herod had caus'd lately to be slaine) for to be carried withall safety; but this perfidious slave be­traying the blood of his allies, and the fortune of Hyrcanus, insteed of carrying faithfully the Letter to Malchus, delivers it into the hands of Herod, who bids him go and deliver the said Letter, and bring back the answer to him for to discover further the counte­nance, and intention of the Arabi­an. He fail'd not to promise Hyr­canus all assistance, inviting him with all kindnesse to come over speedily unto him. [Page 101] Herod having discover'd the whole matter, calls for Hyrcanus, and asketh him if he had received any Letters from Malchus? Yea (quoth he) but they contained no­thing but complements: the other demandes, if with these Letters he did not receive some presents? He confessed that Malchus (indeed) had made him a present of foure horses to draw his Coach. Here­upon without any further forme of proceeding, the Tyrant com­mands the reverend old man to be murther'd, dying with blood the hoary head of him who had been his Nurse, Protector, Father & all. Then after he had cag'd up Alex­andra, and Mariamne in some place of strength under the guard of Ioseph his Treasurer, & Soheme the I [...]urean, he goes streight waies towards Rhodes, committing the [Page 102] whole charge of his Realme to his brother Pheroras. The Histo­ry makes no mention of the la­ments of the Queene and her Mo­ther upon the death of Hyrcanus: Tis credible that all was conceald from them a long time, being kept in close prison, having no commu­nication with any body. Alexan­dra champt upon the bit with much impatience: Mariamne did beare out the tediousnesse of this captivity with noble constancy,& sought by all meanes to addulce her Mothe [...]s discontents. All her comfort was in God, for what else could she speak of, or think on? My God (quoth she) thou steepest all thy creatures for me in worme­wood: If I have at any time lov'd them and suckt any sweet from the world, thou gavest me for one ounce of Hony a pound of Gall, [Page 103] Ever since I lai'd the Diadem on my head, I have felt nothing but thornes, and soveraignty was to me but a gorgious and noble sla­very. My God, when shall we be­hold that joyfull day to shine up­on us, which wee doe each day wait for, that shall dry up our teares, and bursting the bonds of our captivity, shall send us into Abrahams bosome, and into the freedome of thine elect? These poore Ladies remained there in durance among horrid wals with­out seeing any thing but rocks, & wild solitude, which seemed to re­tain some compassion of their griefes: they knew not how the world went, much lesse how any of the affaires of the Court stood: Every time the keeper came to vi­sit them, they expected no other tidings but the doome of death.

The Guard at the beginning shew­ed some severity in their looks, & were reserv'd in their speeches, & all seem'd full of horrour, feare, & sad silence. But there is no iron but molifies at last in the fire. So­heme, visiting them the oftner ac­cording to his commission, felt the rayes that issued from Mari­amnes eyes so sharp, that they pierc't his heart with relenting compassion; judging it too harsh dealing, to detaine a Queene cap­tive, who by the liberall endow­ments which heaven had enricht her person with, could captivate all hearts. Hee begins to carry a more benigne aspect towards her, and Mariamne seeing him one day in a good mood took occasi­on to speak to him with boldnesse, and to aske him some news from the other world.

Soheme (saith the Princesse) you see us now in a very wofull estate, and our personages, but a day will come (perhaps) when this tem­pest will be blown over: misfor­tunes doe not alwaies attend at the same haven; you know what I am, and that in shewing me favour you shall not oblige an impotent much lesse an ingratefull creature: only give us some hint of Herods purpose in deteining us here, and in what case the affaires are now abroad. Soheme at these words felt his heart sorely shaken with a mosT fierce assault: on th'one side represented to his thoughts the revenge of Herod, which he obser­ved lately in the example of Io­seph, on the other side hee was so touched with commiseration at this noble Princesse, that this fro­zen heart began now to melt and [Page 106] to break forth at his eyes. Mari­amne seeing him perplext, and at a stand: Speak boldly Soheme, this shall no way prejudice thee being lockt up in deep secrecy, & it may doe us much service, for the safty of our estate. Soheme imagining that either Herod would never re­turn in the quality of a King, or that being in the protection of Mariamne, hee might easily pur­chase his pardon, unfolds his heart and tells her.

Madam I commit my secrets, & life into your power; also I de­sire to dye the death before that e­ver I should come to execute the barbarous command that Herod gave me, in case the affaires where of hee now treats with Caesar, should not succeed according to his expectation. And what was it (quoth Madam) Madam I trem­ble [Page 107] only to think on it. 'Tis a mat­ter that concernes your life. My friend (replied Mariamne) this is his ordinary stile: so ran the man­date to his uncle Ioseph in his first voyage. But are there no meanes to get out hence? Soheme makes answer, that Pheroras Herod's bro­ther had charge of the Realme, & that (as extreamly jealous & mis­trusting) he has a heedfull eye, left by some new device you contrive your escape. Well, dye then wee must (quoth the Princesse:) to what side shall I turne my selfe? I see nothing but angers and the I­mage of death, with which I be­gin now to be familiarly acquain­ted. Soheme comforted her as much as lay in his power; but the stopping her eares thence forward to all charmes of worldly com­fort dilated her heart to receive [Page 108] some from heaven; purifying her vexed soule day by day in a Bath of teares, & the smarting fornace of her afflictions. O the provi­dence of the Almighty! 'Tis very true what the Scripture saith, Thy paths are in the deep, and thy tracks on the waters, who can discover such dark footsteps! When this most chast, and innocent Queen in an obscure prison swimmes every day for a good part of her life in her own teares.

Herod being imbarkt (as yet all bloody with the massacre com­mitted on the person of Hyrcanus) findes the Seas and Windes, men and opportunity all propitious to his affaires. This Proteus whose wit was pliant for all adventures, seeing that he could not dissemble the services hee had done to M. Anthony, still prostrating himself, [Page 109] like a fawning Curre at the feet of his fortune, intends to put a faire glosse upon them, and cover them with the mantle of vertue. Hee knew that Augustus was a Prince well born, generous and just, and that hee would employ faithfull servants in this new motion of bu­sinesses which he had thē in hand; hee disguiseth himselfe under the shadow of vertue, and cheats un­der the colour of constancy, and pretext of fidelity. Loe now he presents himself to the Emperour & bespeaks his Highnesse in these tearmes.

Augustus liked well of this bold language, and deem'd that this man was of good proofe & mettle to make a good servant of, not see­ing the subtlety of the Fox, measu­ring all for his own interest. He takes the Crown and places it on the head of Herod, saying, I would you should live peaceably in your dominions, and be but as loyall to me as you have bin to M. Anthony.

Herod after this so lucky an ac­cesse, ceast not to set himselfe for­ward to the good liking of Augu­stus, seeking all occasions so to do, [Page 112] but most of all in that voyage of the Emperour made to Aegypt, where he did continually give as­sistance and serve in many good offices. This businesse so happily sped, hee returnes in triumph to Hierusalem with the astonishment of all the world. This was it that the vertuous Queen Mariamne did protract a life for ever to bee a sa­crifice for the solemnity of her bloody husbands triumphs.

Let us now see how this Lamp was extinguisht, we cannot expect any ill sent, the faire qualities of her life did accompany her to her death. Assoon as Herod was en­tred within the chief City, he goes to salute the Queen his wife whom he had caused to be set at liberty, being his affaires were in safety, & brings her the first tidings of the happy successe of his voyage, hee [Page 113] was so swolne with the conceit of his good fortunes, that hee could hardly contain himselfe within his skin, and the loue of so amia­ble an object as was then present after so many dangers exhausted, did let his tongue loose to much boasting & vain superfluous spee­ches, thinking that by his dis­course he did much improve his honour and reputation. Mariamne pin'd away upon her leggs with fretfulnesse to heare his vanities, and as she was free and genuine in all her carriage, shee shewed how litle pleasure she took in his Rho­domantades, which his joy did heighthen to a degree of folly. He imagining this at first to bee but a fit of Melancholy which would soon vanish into smoak, did chear her up the more with words, shewing more Court-ship then [Page 114] usuall. Among these caresses, the poore Lady breathes out a sigh or two, calling to minde the secret command lately given to Soheme. He well perceived by her counte­nance that she was somewhat dis­contented, and entred into a suspi­tion that Soheme also had the flux in the tongue as well as Ioseph. He knew not then how to compose his countenance, so much was hee moved within himselfe. Love, choler, and jealousie did incessant­ly hurry, and disquiet him: hee could not be angry as he would, & could not choose but love whom he had still impotently lov'd. This haughty spirit that could never stoop to any, but to deceive, was asham'd to see himselfe thus dis­arm'd, and become as it were a Zanie in amorous dalliances not ordinary to his nature; then seeing [Page 115] that these subtilties did not suc­ceed, hee torments himselfe the more, and thinks now to flourish with the sword, but love was so predominant over wrath, & with­held the stroak: Hereupon he re­tires, shaking his head, and mutte­ring I know not what between his teeth, as cursing that love which made him mercifull in despight of his inclination. But alas there is no hatred to that of womē against their own kinde, when a jealousie once seiseth on their braines! Ci­pre an Arabian by nation, the mo­ther of Herod, & Salome his sister, seeing him so passionate fayled not to blow the coales with their tongues, and to kindle them with impudent slanders which the Ty­rant gave credit to in part, but yet could not resolve to strike the stroak. It was a long time in agi­tation [Page 116] ere any thing could be con­cluded upon; at last there arives an unhappy day, when at noone-tide having withdrawn himselfe to his privy chamber he sends for Ma­riamne, who presently comes up­on the message: But Herod being minded to a game in bed, shee would not consent thereto, telling him the law of nature forbad her to lye with a man that had mur­ther'd her Father and her Brother, meaning Alexander, who by the persuit of Herod had been over­thrown by the Romans, and her brother Aristobulus so cruelly sti­fled in the waters. Here Iosephus the Historian, after hee hath so highly extol'd Mariamne as a chast Queen and truly endowed with an inviolable faith (for these be his words) taxes her with a litle disdain which was (as hee saith) [Page 117] grown up with her nature, in that shee did disrespect the caresses of her husband. But hee that would well ponder how Herod had en­treated her neerest kindred, massa­cring them most indignly, & how that holding the Scepter from her house hee did not esteem of her as of a Queen, but as of a poore vi­ctime, which he caus'd to be shut up, commanding it to be beheaded whensoever he ran in jeopardie of his life, for feare that any other should enjoy her after his death; he shall finde that the Lady had sufficient reason to give him this answer. Neverthelesse Herod that could not brook such freedome of speech, was so incens'd at these words that he went neere then to doe her a mischiefe; his eyes spar­kling with anger, his voice rough, and his hands lift up to commit vi­olence. [Page 118] As he walkt up & down in his chamber in a chafe, skirmish­ing thus with his choler, Mariam­ne standing by without any far­ther reply, treacherous Salome thought it now a convenient time to give vent to her malitious pro­ject; shee sends a servant that had pawn'd his faith and credit, and whom she a long time had been instructing for to make him de­pose a slander as wicked as ridicu­lous, which was, that Mariamne having an intention to giue her husband a philtre (or love potion) she addrest her selfe to him, who being then the Kings Taster and sought to work him to doe this feat with many rewards, and pro­mises, which he would never give care unto. Moreover hee was so taught his lesson, that if, peradven­ture Herod demanded the ingre­dients [Page 119] of the Philtre, hee should answer without farther hesitation that the Queen had the contriving of it, and that she required of him only but to administer it. This mi­screant enters the chamber in cold bloud, and makes deposition most seriously: whereat Herod, who was all fire already, being more inflam'd then ever, thought with himselfe that he needed not won­der any more whence this impati­ence of love should proceed. Hee commands presently an Eunuch of the Queen, one of the most tru­stie of them to be attacht, think­ing that nothing past without his knowledge, hee puts him to the rack, insomuch that his body be­ing already weak enough, not able to beare out the violence of the tortures, and on the other side ha­ving nothing to speak against his [Page 120] good Mistris, in whose conversa­tion he never knew any thing but what was honourable and honest; hee was kept a great while in this miserable plight, at length hee lets fly a word, saying that hee had seen Soheme talking a long time in private with the Queen, as though hee made some discovery and that since that time hee well perceived that she was much deje­cted. Herod had no sooner heard this speech, but 'tis enough, saith he, take him off and call Soheme.

Soheme knew nothing of this that passed, he liv'd in great con­tent, having lately attain'd to some good place of command by the Queens recommendation. He was quite astonisht when he saw them lay hands on him and compell him to confesse the discourse hee had with Mariamne when she [Page 121] was in prison: he utterly denying the matter is forthwith slain. This day Herod retires into his Cabi­net, drinking by full draughts the gaul and venome of his fatall an­ger, meditating in his heart on the fury which hee should make to burst out shortly in publique: for without allowing any truce to his labouring brain, he assembles his Privie Councell, and sends for his Queen, who exprected nothing lesse then such arraignment. This monster that studied alwaies to set a colour of justice on his most unreasonable actions, beginnes a long Oration which he had indi­ted at his leasure, and as every man stood like a Ghost struck with feare and filence, expecting the is­sue of this Tragoedy (onely bold Mariamne stood arm'd with an undanted constancy for all events) [Page 122] he speaks to them in these termes.

It seems God would counter­ballance my prosperous affaires a­broad with the unhappinesse of domestick evills: I have found safety among the winds and tem­pests in irksome voyages I have undertaken, and in many perillous atchievements that I have brought about, to finde in my return a tem­pest in mine own Court. You are not ignorant how that I have fo­stered all the house of Hyrcanus in my bosome in those deplored times, when it was at a low ebb, & neer confusion; in recompence whereof as if I did sit upon the egs of a Serpent, so I have found but hissing and stinging. God knowes how oft I have dissembled inju­ries, and how oft I have cur'd thē with patience, but yet I cannot bring my heart to so obdurat and [Page 123] brawnie a temper, but it is ever & anon stirr'd up and scarified with some new sores. Behold there my wife, who following his Mothers steps, is ever bent to trouble my repose. As soon as I was return'd from my late dangerous voyage, as you know, I brought her ti­ding of the happy successe to my affaires, shee shewing how litle e­steem she made of my estate and person, did heare mee with such a coy and disdainfull carriage, that notwithstanding all the Court­ship I made to her, I could not draw from her pride one good word, nay shee was not content with this, shee proceeds to open mischiefes, and bloudy machina­tions, which I had rather (in ho­nour of your eares) passe over in silence, & come to effects. Behold there one of my faithfull servants, [Page 124] that doth testifie how that she had suborn'd him to give me a Philtre, that is, poyson for to giddie my braines, and take away my life, which God doth still preserve to make a recognizance of all the good offices which all in generall and you in particular have done me: So you see that I am arrived home with my temples girt with Laurells, honoured and favour'd by the most renowned men of the world, to bee the shittle-cock of a womans mallice, and the But of her treachery. I could not win her by ardency of love, or any good turnes, no more then if shee had been a Lionesse. Consult among you what you ought to doe, I de­liver her to the power of your iu­stice, being not (in this case) to follow mine own judgement, that posterity may know that mine [Page 125] own interests come alwaies below the truth, to which I have taught them ever to stoop and bend the knee.

Herod in speaking these words would seem to be very calme con­juring down his passion, and cur­bing his nature which was pliable enough, but yet his choler so wrought and fum'd up, that the Councell soon discover'd his ma­lady, & that he had a full purpose to exterminate the Queen. They summon her to answer upon the suddain without any Advocate. This glorious Amazon, a young Impe of the Macchabees, and heire of their heroick patience, being presented before this crue & con­venticle of malignant spirits, 28 yeares before the comming of our Saviour in the flesh, did then what may instruct posterity most [Page 126] illustriously by her example. No man ever observ'd an impatient word to sally out of her mouth, she used not any word of recrimi­nation, or charged back any with their own crimes, and being able to lay before the Councell the many outrages she had suffered in her own person, and in her kin­dred, she swallowed all wrongs with more then humane patience only touching the main Article of her accusation, she said that for the draught or potion that was obje­cted to her, 'twas a thing in the judgement of all that would confi­der it well, farthest off any thing from her thoughts, seeing that she had alwaies dreaded the love of Herod more then his hate: moreo­ver that she made not any account of her life wherein she had endur'd but too many afflictions, much [Page 127] lesse of the Court where she never drew any ayre of delight, and that if they would oppresse her inno­cence by false witnesse, it was most easie to overcome her, no subject more obvious and probable. It was most easie to take the Diadem off her head and her head off her shoulders, but it would bee no easie taske to take from her the reputation of a Lady of Honour which she held in Ca­pite from her ancestors, & which she would carry along with her to the dust.

The poore soule was as a filly Lamb in the jawes of a Lion, and in the fangs of many Wolues: They proceed to judgement and all proceed according to Herods propension. They knew it was his will to rid her out of his way, that was sufficient. There was not one [Page 128] found that had the boldnesse to stand up in the defence of the in­nocent Queen, or to asswage the passion of Herod in any manner. Each mans conscience was clog'd either with crimes, or timorous­nesse; whence it hapned that these impious judges did more in fa­vour of the Tyrant then he would have done, for they all concluded to adjudge her to death: hee was struck with some horrour at the first, as bloudy a man as he was, & commanded that shee should bee committed to safe custody within the Court, suspending the execu­tion, thinking perhaps thereby to make her the more tractable to his humour. But enraged Salome that had stirr'd up this tempest not willing to leave a thing halfe done drawes neere to the King her bro­ther, & makes remonstrance, that [Page 129] such birds were not to be kept in cages that this was a businesse which concern'd his Crowne and Life, and that all now tended to a revolt, if he delai'd this execution he would hasten his owne ruine and the estates both: whereupon Herod let slip this speech, Why let ber be taken away; and immedi­ately a Tribune was dispatcht, to the good Queene, who brings her news of her last houres approach, saluting her with all reverence, Madam the King calls for you, and you are presently to die: she nothing moved with the message replies, let us goe (friend) outright, Herod cannot be so speedy but he seemes slow to me: and when she had thus said shee advances for­ward, and marches streight to the place of execution, without chan­ging her colour, with a cleer coun­tenance [Page 130] which drew tears from all spectatours to crowne her pati­ence. As she was ready to receive the fatall stoake, Alexander a her Mother, her companion in Prison, the Cabinet of her thoughts, that both seem'd to have but one heart intwo breasts betraying her blood, nature, and all pie­tie for some mischievous reason of estate that she might not be sus­pected of Herod as though she had consented to her daughters per­versnesse, comes there to taxe her with horrible injuries, and shee went neere to dragge the poore Princesse by the haire of the head, and to hale her along the pave­ment, telling her in extreme rage, that she was an untoward peevish dame, and that shee did well de­serve death for that she would not agree with so good a husband for [Page 131] the supporting of their common fortunes. See here the greatest in­dignity that can be conceived! In such an accident there is no better hony, nor a worser sting then that of bees, and no better amity, nor worser enmity then that of kin­dred. Patient Mariamne did not speake a word, not so much as, Good Mother permit my soule to depart in peace which is now up­on my lips ready to take her flight, and trouble not my last and eter­nall rest; but with a generous si­lence sealing her mouth to all re­plies, and opening her heart to­wards God the only witnesse of her innocence, being thus indign­ly handled, shee profers her neck to the headsman for to seale with her blood the last testimonies of her patience. Iosephus speakes not so expressely of the manner of her [Page 132] death as being a matter without controversie that shee was execu­ted according to the ordinary manner of those times, which was to behead all delinquents of such ranke. This faire breaking of the day which as yet carried com­fort and healing in his wings to the poore afflicted soules that were in this horrible confusion of Tyranny, was then obscur'd and quite put out with her blood: the eyes of all the throng that did as­sist at this ruefull tragedie being bath'd in teares did behold her in her red lips. When they saw this countenance (arm'd with royall Majesty) so couragiously to af­front death which makes the boldest heart to tremble, and her alabaster neck stretcht out and stoop't to the glittering axe to be sever'd from her faire body, a [Page 133] cold horror ran through the shi­vering joynts, and bones of all the croud, and there was no rock so hard but would have sweated wa­try drops of teares to ransome her blood from being spilt. Her head was sever'd from her body, and her body from her soule, but this will never be separated from her God, who rears to her memo­ry an eternall trophie of patience. Her trunck lay cold, and extended upon the place, and the voice of innocent blood, which now mounted up to pierce the Clouds, & demand revenge from the pro­tector of innocence, was incon­tinently heard to good purpose, as you shall e're long understand.

This faithlesse husband that had so barbarously handled a Princesse so worthy of all respect, was soone as she had yeelded up [Page 134] the ghost as if he had been struck with an invisible dart, cryed out of griefe, and sai'd that he had given a blow that deserved God's an­ger & vengeance; then with fear­full howling he invokes incessant­ly the memory and name of the deceased Queene, to whom hee could not by his plaints restore what he had taken away by the executioners hatchet: whither so­ever he went, he was stil accompa­nied with the Image of his crime; black furies revelling in his cōsei­ence, & terrifying him with sights and fearfull apparitions: hee tried all manner of feasting, dancing, and delights to expell melancho­ly; but it encreas'd the more, in so much that he was constrained to abandon the helme of govern­ment, though hee had been active and indefatigable in this exercise: [Page 135] he became at first a dotard, and all stupid, not knowing what hee did; for sometime at dinner he speakes to his attendants, and bids them call the Queene to him, as if shee had been still alive, they hearkned unto him without returning a word, & all the Court was struck with silence and amazement; at last he being not able to endure the pallace walles, as though they did upbraid his cruelty, hee goes and haunts the groves & uncouth places of retreate like a salvage, thereby contracting such a strange disease in his braines, and so vio­lent a frenzy, that the Physitians saw no way to remedy it, telling him freely that it was a blow from heaven: God who did reserve him for further calamities would not vouchsafe to take away his life at that present. That wicked Mo­ther [Page 136] Alexandra that so outragi­oussly scolded at her daughter on the scaffold, went shortly after the way of all flesh, tasting the bitter­nesse of death but loosing the glo­ry of it. In the reare of this, followed a pestilence which swept away many of Herod's counsel­lors of state; and all these were but the scourges of heaven to avenge this so lamentable death, but ne­ver enough lamented. Mariamne from her chast bed left Herod two sonnes, Alexander and Ari­stobulus who were very young, capable to endure much more in after-times, but as then incapable to understand their present mise­ries. Herod for to take away from them the resentments of this hor­rid fact, and to raise them both to­gether by good education to the glory of his Scepter, packs them [Page 137] away in good time, and sends them to Rome to be train'd up in Augustus Casar's Court, held at that time the Academy of Kings, and the most renowned School of the world. After some years ex­pir'd he tooke a desire to make a journey into Italy for to salute Casar, and by that meanes to see his sonnes, whom hee found very well improv'd, and ingeniously brought up, and so compleat, that hee would faine with the good leave of Augustus bring thē along with him back to Iudea, and so he did: These young Princes retur­ning to Ierusalem with Herod, did ravish all the people with admi­ration; they were of a very come­ly proportion very nimble and a­ctive, and well exercis'd in feats of armes, well spoken, affable, and as much worthy of love as their [Page 138] Father of hatred. Men beheld them as they doe the two starres of Castor and Pollux after a tem­pest; they fill'd all with joy, and seem'd already to have wonne hearts enough to winne them crownes according to their merit, yet those that call'd to mind the u­sage of their Mother Mariamne could not containe their teares.

Pheroras, Herod's brother, and his sister Salome, who had both of them a hand in the murther of the innocent Queene, entred into such apprehensions that cannot be ex­prest, seeing that the blood which they had spilt was one day to rule over them: They began thence­forth tartly to traduce them, and convey (by some creatures sub­born'd thereto) many reports to Herod's cares, which were in effect to informe, how that the Princes [Page 139] his sonnes (in regard of what had hapned touching their mother) were very averse frō their Father, & would never beinduced to affect him againe. Herod who was yet warm with the heat of his affection towards thē, gave no credit to the slander; for seeing them now upon the march towards ripes yeares, he bethought him how to match thē honourably, sueing for his son Alexander the daughter of Archi­laus King of Capadocia named Glaphira, which was granted him, & for Aristobulus he was betrothd to the daughter of Salome, his cosin Germane; thus cementing the breaches & enmities of his house. Alexander and Aristobulus did converse together very freely, and spoke all that lay upō their hearts, talking of the death of their mo­ther, in such a manner, that they [Page 140] shewed that they were sensible of it: Pheroras, and Salome very close and malignant spies, did not cease to toll them into dangerous ipee­ches, and all that they had spoken (either through vanity, or some fit of anger, or through presumption of secrecy) was presently reported to Herod's eares. Crafty Salome yet beating sway over her new married daughter, who was a sim­ple harmlesse creature, did shrife her punctually, to know of her what her husband did use to talke of in the privacy of their mutuall embraces. Shee forth with related all the speeches, which these poor Princes had spoken in simplicity or merriment, namely, that Ari­stobulus brag'd, that the Empire appertain'd to the issue of Mari­amne as the linage of a true Queen: as for the sonnes of Herod, they [Page 141] were sow'd abroad, and dispersed in good number (for hee had some nine or ten wives) so that he made most of them advocates in petty Townes, and it went well with them if they had learn'd to read and write; shee added moreover, that Alexander spake in a bravado, that he was somewhat of another mold then his Father, yet notwith­standing when hee convers'd with him, seeing him of a jealous hu­mour he kept himselfe within his scabbard, not daring freely to ex­presse himselfe, for fear of casting shadowes of his ability; that going to hunt, and walke with Herod, he us'd to contract and wind in his body, that he might not seem big­ger then his father: If he went to draw a bowe, hee did it very bun­gler-like, of purpose to free him­selfe from all envy. This was a [Page 142] maine peece of wisdome to doe so, but the trick of a very novice to talk so much, though words as innocently spoken, as sinisterly and captiously interpreted; and a­bove all a very simple errour, to commit their secrets to a woman, whose brest (for the most part) is as fit to guard any thing intrusted to its custody, as a five to carry water. When Pheroras, and Sa­lome had diligently plyed the ears of Herod with these petty infor­mations, seeing some suspition to plant, & take rooting in his mind, and that the fathers affection to­wards his sonnes did waxe cold, they strike in opportunely, and ad­vise him seriously to take heed of his sons, that they were in labour with some great exploit, and spake loudly, That all those that had any hand in the shedding their mothers [Page 143] blood, should not beare the pu­nishment off in the other world: For indeed as they were harping on that harsh string, such like spee­ches did escape from them. Herod was exceedingly astonisht at this freedome, as thinking it necessa­ry to represse their boldnesse with some counterprise. What doth he to take downe the spirits of these Princes? Hee goes, and takes him one of his other sonnes call'd An­tipater, (begot upon one Dorid a woman of meane ranck, and who was afterward shamefully banisht the Court) he hoists him in a mo­ment to the top of the wheele, not that hee purpos'd to leave him there, but hee would have him serve as a Check-mate for the sons of Mariamne, judging him a fit instrument for that end: For in­deed this Antipater was a darke, [Page 144] sullen, and malicious spirit, who held much after the Father. When he saw himselfe on an instant so highly mounted, he resolv'd not to descend, but with the losse of his skin, & to share of the Realm as well as the rest, by some device or other. Well, to that end he fits the Scene, and conforms himselfe to all fashions for to get into cre­dit with Herod, (who from that time began to like him very well) and he fail'd not under hand to put on foot afresh those accusati­ons, to get surer footing in this new preferment, that had been commenced against the sonnes of Mariamne. And when hee had flung the stone, he drew in his arm so neatly, that hee seem'd not to have any way stirr'd in it; for he did alwaies bear a most respectful carriage towards Alexander, and [Page 145] Aristobulus, as towards his Ma­sters, espcially when hee caus'd those false reports to be instill'd a­fresh into his Fathers eares, by some creatures well taught and re­warded. He fain'd also, with a bor­rowed modesty to take their cause in hand, but hee excused them so slily to his own advantage, that he brought them within greater su­spicion then before. King Herod for to bring him into some esteem and authority, thought it were not amisse to send him to Rome for a time, which he did, giving him a flourishing attendance, and an infi­nite deale of recommendations. Here hee sate a brooding more in­genious mischiefs, & from hence pursued his plots more closely, & with more art. In a letter to his fa­ther, hee wrote that he had disco­vered at Rome strange plots, that [Page 146] he should beware of his brethren, Alexander and Aristobulus; for they had every where ingrossed the hearts of the people, and that their designe was no other, then to shorten his daies, & to dispossesse him of his kingdome. This had the more colour, for that the yong Princes being not a litle moved with their late rejection or degra­dation could not dissemble their discontents, and did dayly cast a­bout some words, which were ga­ther'd up by the spies of Pheroras, and Salome, that no fillable fell to the earth. It griev'd Herod to see that having compos'd all in peace abroad, the fire had caught hold on his own house: and thence for­ward he had a minde to seize up­on his sonnes, but hee would not make any attempt upon their per­sons without Casars command, to [Page 147] whom he referr'd all, both for the expression of his obeisance, and for the safety of his estate. After he had meditated on the matter with himselfe very carefully and seriously, (for it did much grieve his heart whence all his Counsels did spring, & had their first rise,) he resolv'd to bring his sonnes to Rome, & there to accuse them be­fore Caesar. All along the way frō Palestine to Italy, did hee carry his thoughts so close, that his lookes did never betray them, nor did he shew any symptoms of distast to­wards his Sonnes, lest hee should cast some shadowes of suspition. Being arriv'd at Rome, hee under­stands that Caesar was then in A­quilegia, whither hee posts with­out delay, bringing his two sons along, who were by the Emperor (who was as a father to them) ve­ry [Page 148] courteously received with all demonstrations of affection. In the interim this wretched father, espy­ing his opportunity begges from Caesar a day of audience, in a busi­nesse (as he said) of great conse­quence, which he granted him, & he came upon the very instant a­greed upon, bringing with him the two delinquēts, who intended no­thing as then, but to laugh, & passe the time with their old acquain­tance. When they were in the midst of a glorious assembly (which were of purpose there met) Herod fetching a deep sigh, addresseth his speech to the Em­perour.

You now behold (Great Cae­sar) a King happy enough by your Grace, and favour, but a most un­happy Father in the disgraces, & ill fortunes of my house: if nature [Page 149] had deni'd me issue, fortune would haue sav'd me much misery, and trouble. It doth much grieue mee to soile your eares (renowned Cae­sar) with the recitall of such un­graciousnesse; but necessity which hath no law compels me, & your justice which protects all Lawes, invited me to it. Loe here my two Sonnes (unnaturall Sons) who had the honour to bee brought up at your feet, after that they had re­ceiv'd from mee all favour, that might be expected from a king by your goodnesse potent enough, & from a father by his own nature most indulgent, betraying the glo­ry of their education received at your hands, and forgetting their bloud and nature receiv'd from me, they have attempted a crime which I am afraid to utter. I en­dured much for them, add their [Page 150] welfare, and I enjoy a kingdome now a faire terme of yeares, which I have purchas'd with so much sweat, and turmoile; I have ope­ned the gate of honour for them to enter at after my decease, when a naturall death should close up mine eyes; but they would needs enter in at the gate of paricide, lay­ing ambush for my life, for to take away the spoile soakened in my bloud. I haue them here at your feet, not retaining in mine own wrongs any right of a King, or fa­ther, but what your justice will think fit to ordaine, and prescribe: Yet (Creat Caesar) I must beg of you this request, that you would grant my old age, which you have so much honoured, some rest in mine own house, & to rescue me from the hands of these Paricides. Also I doe not think it any way [Page 151] expedient, that such gracelesse, & ungratefull Sons, that have trod under feet the Laws of God and men, should any longer look the Sun in the face, which should both witnesse, and upbraid their folly.

The man spake this with won­derfull vehemency, so that he did amaze all the assembly; and the poor youths which had as much innocence, as simplicity, seeing themselves thus battered, & over­borne with a tempest of words, which they did never presage, made their eyes to weep an Apo­logie, & they fall a crying in good earnest: they strove to recover their speech, fearing that their si­lence would prove them guilty; but the more they labour'd to vent their thoughts, the more did their sobs interrupt their course.

Augustus Caesar, a judicious and [Page 152] humane Prince, saw well by their demeanour, and countenance, that the young men were guilty of more misery, then mischiefe, and casting a gracious look upon them Courage my Youths, saith hee to them, stand firme, answer all by leasure, let nothing dismay, or trouble you. All the Court did now pitty them, and Herod too shew'd in his countenance, that he was a litle mov'd; so eloquent are our naturall strength and armes Alexander seeing the eyes of all to cast propitious, and favourable beames upon them, wakens his spirits, and breaking through a throng of sighs (as he was pretty well tongu'd) he spake as follow­eth: My Lord and Father, your Majestie hath not (I trust) brought us so far before the Altars of mer­cy, for to make us a sacrifice to [Page 153] vengeance; wee are at the knees of Caesar, as in the temple of clemen­cie, whither being conducted by your consent, & command, I must needs say, that as your words were rough, and bitter, so are your pro­ceedings most faite and gentle. If calumnie could have so altered your good nature, as to have wrought you to assaile our lives, to the disadvantage, and hazard of our innocence, this you might have done in Palestine, as a Father, and as a King, the doome and exe­cution was in your own power: but God permitted it, that you have led us to the court of Caesar, not to leave our heads here, which you have destinated to a Crowne, but to bring them backe victori­ously triumphing over detractio. It is a strange thing, to invent so erroneous a crime against persons [Page 154] of our quality & reputation, with­out alleaging why, or how. Here is no speech of any letters, poy­sons, complots, treacheries, Mini­sters subom'd to practise them, only we are proclaim'd Paricides, and the proofes left behind, not a­ny produc'd: if this sufficeth, there will not be found such exalted in­nocence in the world, which slan­der wil not dare to fasten his teeth upon. Our enimies, who of a long time have been weaving this web, say nothing, but that we have age and courage enough to performe this, & that we would one day at­tempt to avenge our Mother Ma­riamnes death. As for the first rea­son, who sees not how weak it is? If there needs but age, & courage to commit a murther, this were to make the whole surface of the world a [...] and to over­whelm [Page 155] it with a deluge of bloud; to make all parents jealous, & mi­strustfull, and all children crimi­nall. For the second reason, which touched out deceased Mother, she hath left us at those yeares, that we cannot as yet bemoan, or ap­prehend well our miseries. Since we have out-liv'd our childhood, we were never desirous to prie in­to your cabinet counsells, to exa­mine your justice: Her falt to doe ill should not have made us the more bold, but the more heedfull, and studious to doe well. We be­stowed our teares upon her only, not to bewaile her death, but to satisfie our sorrowes, seeing that our enimies ceased not to disquiet her urne, whole bloud they spilt. Father, if our teares which did is­sue forth by the command of na­ture, behold crimes at your barre, [Page 156] where shall wee finde any safety, but in your justice? Never among these our complaints did there escape a hard, or irreverent speech against your selfe, but indeed a­gainst those, who abuse your au­thority to the ruine of yours. We have no reason to hate your life, but to loue it; and by so much the more, in that you have judged us capable, & worthy to inherit your Crown, before all our brethren. You have given us all the ensignes of soveraignty, all the honour we can expect; so that to demande more were to beg a Licence to un­doe our selves: Why should wee seek a Kingdome by a murther, which is to fall to us with your consent, and good liking, that so Heaven, Earth, and Se as conspi­ring with Caesar might bar those gates againstus, to the which wee [Page 157] would have made a key tempred in the blood of our Father. Your Majestie (it may be) hath begot us more unfortunate, then now it were expedient for your estate; but we shall never be so foolishly impious, as to commit a villany that would eternally ruine us without recovery. Most honour'd Father, expell that fiend of suspi­tion which hath possest you; or if it please you to entertain it longer we will both part with our lives, whereof wee are not so tenderly enamour'd, that we would retain them, with the displeasure of him that gave them.

This speech attended with the teares of the young Princes did ra­vish all the Auditors, and as they saw them both with dejected eies, expecting the sentence of the judge, each man burn'd with a de­fire [Page 158] to stand up in their justificati­on, Caesar casts his eyes on Herod, who shewed himselfe to be much moved with pitty, & would have wisht hee had never thought on such an accusation; for indeed this accusation did put him much out os conceit, and credit with the as­sembly, and made him blame his credulity. Augustus not willing to shame him, pronounced that (in truth) the children were much to blame, that they had any way mo­lested him; but as for the crime in­tended, hee ought to raze it out of his Register.

The young Princes were well bred, and brought up hitherto; it remained that they should live henceforward in good correspon­dence, and renew the sacred bond of nature, which could not bee broken by so good a father, nor [Page 159] by the children, who did promise so much & so faire for the future. This being spoken, Herod embra­ces his Sonnes one after another with weeping eyes, which drew teares even from those that were no way interessed in it.

After many Leuvoyes, & com­plements, behold them now on their return, together with their father, and brother Antipater, who did act (though behinde the cur­tain) all this faire Tragoedy; never­thelesse he did captivate them with his curtesies, rejoycing and con­gratulating their good successe, as if his heart had blaz'd in joyfull fires. So works the tyrannie of dis­simulation in Courts untill that God one day take off the maske! Being return'd to Ierusalem, a yeare did scarce run about, before that malice lay'd new giones, to [Page 160] the innocence of these poore Prin­ces. Pheroras thought within him­selfe to possesse Alexanders head with jealousie, telling him with much secrecy, that his father He­rod did wantonly sport and dally with Glaphyra, his wife, (daughter of King Archelaus) judging that this would be a powerfull way to make him revolt, and set him all in a rage against his father, and so to precipitate him to his ruine. These words indeed did very sen­fibly touch this noble soule, that he began thence forvvard to ob­serve vvith a jealous eye, the acti­ons of Herod, vvho in truth plai'd the minion all day with the young Princesse, vvho vvas endow'd vvith surpassing feature, but more he could not discover at all in his conversation: save the blandish­ments of a father in Law towards [Page 161] a daughter, vvorthy to be cherisht for her many good parts. Yet not­withstanding Alexander, after hee had taken in this subtile intelli­gence of Pheroras, turned this ho­ny into poyson, interpreting all to the worst, and was so transported therewith, that (rushing one day to his fathers chamber, he decla­red unto him the jealousie, and su­spition that he had conceived, with many sighes, and teares of anger. Herod vvas much troubled vvith this imputation, & deeming it a thing unbefitting his person to stir in justifying himselfe vvith multitude of vvords, in excuse of that vvhich vvanted not any, hee saith to him only, my good Son, vvho hath put this into thy head? The other repli'd. That he knew it partly, & Pheroras did assure him of it. Pheroras is presently sent for [Page 162] and Herod, vvho d [...]d ever u [...]e him like a servant, frown'd upon him, as though hee vvould have lookt him dead. Thou Rake-hell (quoth he) vvhat hast thou spoken to this young man? It vvas not a tale vvhich thou hast vvhisper'd him in the eare, but a sword thou hast arm'd his hand vvith against his father: for he doth justly not to brook acompanion of his bed, no more vvould I of my Realme. U [...]gratefull vvretch should not thou have torne thy heart out of thy brest, rather then conceiv'd such a thought of thy brother? The house was never tainted with such crimes, nor never shal, except thou pester it with thine: Pa [...]k, and let me see thee no more; I ordaine tortures for other delinquents, but for thee (in that thou art so wicked) I leave thee to the rack of [Page 163] thine own conscience, not finding a fitter executioner.

Pheroras nothing amated with this noise, answered, [...]hat he knew nothing, but what Salome (who was there present) had told him; as indeed it sprung from her. But the crafty Megera incontinently crying out, and tearing her haire, said, it was a lamentable case, that she should be persecuted by all the world, onely for being faithfull to her brother. Herod could not choose but stand amaz'd to see these ruptures in his house; and he saw not in the mean while, that his bad example was the sourse & originall of all these curses that befell it. He did nothing to Phero­ras, but discard him for a time: for though he was much incenst, yet he did not storme in earnest, but a­gainst those that hee thought to [Page 164] conspire against his estate; and Pheroras seem'd to bee none of those, for he was a lewd person, a libertine that had married his maid for lust, refusing a Kings daughter, & all his thoughts were bent only upon pleasure. It was by others judg'd that this was no sufficient penance for Pheroras in such a fault, and that this might increase the defiance between the Father and his Son. Now see the reason why Antipater, who had alwaies maintain'd his credit with Herod, taking hold on this occasi­on, begins the battery more furi­ously then ever, and having obser­ved some familiarity between A­lexander, and the three Eunuchs, that were most entrusted with He­rods chamber, he gave intelligence under hand, that Alexanders con­spiracie was all finisht, & that the [Page 165] chiefest Eunuches about Herods chamber were his complices here in. They are forthwith attacht, & tortur'd. Their bodies grown ef­feminate with ease and delicacie, seeing thēselves so rudely pincht, spake both what they knew, and what they knew not, and after all, they could not speak any thing, but of the bravery and youthfull boastings that had slipt from A­lexanders mouth, as these and the like; That these Eunuches were but fooles to adhere to an old do­tard, who did colour his haire for to seem young, but it was bootles, his houre-glasse was run out, his time was past, & theirs was come: that the kingdome could not es­cape them, having justice, strength, and good credit to their side, yea and so many sonnes of Mars, men of steel, and valour, that would [Page 166] not faile them in time of need. Such speeches they utter'd, but no such as Antipater pretended, and they spake too much for a suspici­ous head. It was a misery to see this miserable Court so much dis­membred, here was nothing to be heard or seen, but accusations, de­fiances, distrusts and tortures. E­very man lookt one upon the o­ther, and thought he had no other way of security, but to prevent his companion. They depose each day many ridiculous and impro­bable things that took no effect. There were not found but one or two, that being prest with the ex­tremity of pain, and to rid them­selves out, said that Alexander had given out in Rome, that his father was more inclin'd to the Parthians then to the Romans, and as they re­doubled their torments in the fa­vour [Page 167] of Antipater, they did even speak what ever they would have them; as that Alexander and Ari­stobulus had conspired to make a­way their father by poyson, and then to goe to Rome to demand the Crown, which had no shew of probability; and as they were askt where was this poyson? They ad­ded that it was in the Castle of Ascalon. And diligent search being made, there was no such matter found: Neverthelesse Alexander is arested; hee being of a generous temper, and much moved to see executioners so busily imployed, spake with a lowd voice to Herod, by way of Irony, What needs all these butcheries? Since that you will needs be deceived, why I have conspired against your life: And if you desire to know with whom, it was with Pheroras, your [Page 168] brother and sister Salome, with Ptolomie, Lapritius, and others of your Conncellers. Kill all the world and you may reigne alone in safety. Hee spoke too mueh to be believed, and spoke it with an accent, that spoke nothing lesse. He is hereupon shut up in prison for some daies, untill that Archelaus (King of Capadocia) his father in law, being advertis'd of this disa­ster, arrives at Herods Court. Hee makes with Herod no rash encoun­ter, charging him with too much credulity, and the like with a mild temper. This was not the course to deale with a man that desir'd altogether to justifie his actions. The Capadocian with a mild tem­per strikes sayle, makes a shew of great pitty to see him in these troubles; saying, that his sons did him great wrong to molest him in [Page 169] this wise, that he came thither not to excuse his own son in law, but to punish his own daughter, if she were faulty. Herod took such com­fort to heare him speak in that manner, that the teares trill'd down his cheeks: And Archelaus seeing that hee found it fit season for perswasion, begins by degrees to tell him, that intruth the young Princes shew'd somewhat too much stubbornnesse, but their youth and gentlenesse were abu­sed, and it were well if this were lookt to. He acted his part so well that he at last dispell'd the mist of calumnie. And Glaphira seeing her selfe now upon the stage, did with good language, & her teares carry all shee would for her hus­band, so that the poore prisoner was forthwith released.

Herod began now to live like a [Page 170] Cyclops in his Cave, walking still in the mists, and darknesse of dis­trustfull feares, and each moment upon the point to perpetrate fresh cruelties. And when they saw him to bee so much frighted with sha­dowes, Antipater did not faile to supply him with stuffe, and mat­ter to feed his suspitions, thereby to advance his own tortunes. There arrives an impostor, a Gre­cian to the Court of Iudea, nam'd Euricles, in the state, and equipage of a Prince, and bestowed many presents on Herod, for to insinuate to his favours. The unhappy King likes well of the man, and places him in the list, and number of his most intimate friends. Hee did Iodge with Antipater, and (seeing him predominant in Court) in all his actions hee studied to win his favour, and liking aboue all, which [Page 171] he did abtain by conversing fre­quently, and familiarly with Alex­ander, and fetching the secrets of his heart, which hee would after report (true, or false) to the eares of Herod, who did give him much credit.

Three yeares being scarce past over, behold calumnie disgorgeth the rest of its venome: Two soul­diers of Herods guard being ca­sheer'd for some light offence, were afterwards imprudently re­ceived into Alexanders house, who did favour them seeing they were men of goodly personages, and ca­pable of good service. These are accus'd to have partakt in the con­spiracy, they are immediatly ap­prehended and put upon the rack; the violence of the to [...]ments forc't them to say that by the sol­licitation of Alexander and Aristo­bulus [Page 172] they had a designe upon the person of Herod for to kill him in hunting. At that very time the Governour of the Alexandrine Citadell (which was one of the strongest piec [...]s of the Realme) is charged to have promised to be­tray it into the power of these young Princes which he did stifly renege.

But his son who had suffered some disgrace by his father, steps out and saith the deposition was true: then hee produc'd letters as from Alexander, which confirm'd it, which were thought notwith­standing to have come from Se­cretary Diophantes, who made a trade of such forgeries.

Herod required no farther proofes, he makes his two sons to be laid hold on, and resolves to de­stroy them. And indeed every man [Page 173] from that time forward held them but lost men. While these things were in motion, Melas one of the Councellours of the King of Ca­padocia comes to Iudea to knowe where lay the knot and difficulty of the businesse; hee findes the dis­cord very much rankled & festred beyond his art and remedies. The wicked father convents his sonne (calling him from prison) before Melas, there to examine him, and to charge him with such crimes as were depos'd against him. Alexā ­der asks where the deponēts were? It was answer'd they were now dead. H [...]e repli'd that this was wrong dealing to put them to death with a lye in their mouthes, which was extorted from them by force of torments, and to seale thē up for ever that they might not deliver the truth. As for him and [Page 174] his brother Aristobulus they had no other intention then to fly to Capadocia and thence to Rome for to deliver themselves from the vi­olent hands of their father. When Herod heard him speak of the voi­age to Capadocia, he desires Melas to enquire particularly of Glaphi­ra, if she did not reveal more evi­dence touching this designe; who when she law at first entry her hus­band in bolts, it was a pittious thing to see how it afflicted her. O my deare husband, saith she, are these the favours your father be­stowes on you! Is this the Diadem that he hath promised you? Grief that clogg'd her heart smothered the rest. A spring of teares flowed from Alexanders eyes, who lov'd her most dearely, and all the com­pany was so moved with this pite­ous spectacle, that those who sate [Page 175] there to examine them, lookt one upon another, and forgot the for­mality of justice. Herod demanded of Alexander if his wife were not, privy to all his secrets, he made an­swer, that for her deserts and dis­cretion he, never conceal'd ought from her. The poor Princesse was somewhat frighted at the speech, yet spake very simply that she was ignorant of all that was past as the child that was yet unborn: how­beit she was very ready to tell a ly for to save her husband, and shee never used to disavow any fault that her husband should tax her with. Alexander being toucht to the quick with her pious intenti­on tells her, Madam never won­der at it, you know well that I ne­ver had any other drift but to bring you to Capadocia to see the King your Father; loe that is all [Page 176] our offence. This did not cure He­rod, but made his suspition yet to extend towards King Archelaus, taking it ill that hee would have withdrawn his son without his leave, and knowledge: he sends the prisoners back to their quarter, & in the mean while dispatcheth new Embassadou [...]s to Rome for to ju­stifie himselfe of some false asper­sions cast upon him, & to obtain frō Caesar the liberty to dispose of his Children according as justice would require, which was gran­ted him. The young Princes were so exclaim'd upon & belied with such strange reports at Rome, that there was no man would adven­ture to undertake their defence. He being very glad of such spec­dy and successefull audience (as he was a man ful of formalities, who did alwaies give his passions the [Page 177] glosse and tincture of justice. He calls a Councel for the arraigning of his sonnes, admitting all those that he saw, and knew to be ill in­form'd, for to favour his intenti­ons, & omitting others that might any way divert or hinder them; a­mong others Archelaus, who was expressely named by Caesar for to examine the cause. Morcover, which was horrible injustice, he would not have his sonnes to ap­peare before the Iudges to heare what they could speake in their owne defence, but he enters to the Court full gorg'd with gall and venome; he was never seene to change the Copy of his counte­nance so much as that time; his passions had all transsigur'd him in such sort, that hee spake such words, and did such actions as litle beseem his gravity: his friends [Page 178] were mistaken in him, and he seem'd to them to be a savage ra­ther then a King: sometimes hee did complaine and lament, some­times stood mute and stampt for anger; he produced some Letters of his sonnes that carried nothing of weight but only their journey to Capadocia, and yet notwitstan­ding, as if he gain'd some greatvi­ctory, he cryes out, my Masters, what say you to this? See you not this ungracious dealing! O that I had dyed before I had know and seen such treachery! Then he saith he would referre all to the course of justice, that he would doe nothing through passion, and anon he proclaimes, that he had not called the Assembly for to passe a Iudgment, but to follow and subscribe to his sentence, that posterity might with the more [Page 179] horror speake of such Parracides, then playing the Scribe or Theo­loger, he quotes Deuteronomy, where it is permitted to Fathers to stone their rebellious chil­dren to death, then he shewes Caesars Letters, which with them carried more strength then his Deuteronomy, and insisted so much upon them, as if the Delinquents had been formerly condemned by the sentence of Augustus Cae­sar. When they came to reckon the voices, Saturnine a Roman, one of Consular dignity and great authority, diswaded plainly this cruelty, telling him that hee was himselfe a Father, and hee knew what it was to be such a one, and that Herod would repent of his rashnesse: this good man had three of his sonnes with him at that time, all gallant men and im­ployed [Page 180] in places of dignity and trust, who did plead in favour of the young Princes, but all to no effect. After them starts up one Volumnius a rude fellow, who was a prime man, and a leader of the factious file, which was impa­nell'd to serve Herod's purposes; these all with one accord past a sē ­tence of death most unjustly: when this arrest was divulg'd abroad, an old souldier of Herods guard named Tero, much moved with the newes, streight goes to the pal­lace, and desires to speake with the King in private, which was permit­ted him: This good man taking him aside uttered his tale so seri­ously, and withall so boldly, that he stuck not to say that he had lost his wits, when hee would put to death the true heires for to set up a Viper, who in fine would gnaw [Page 181] his bowels when he thought him­selfe safest. Herod at first listned to him patiently; but when hee ran on to much on that strain, he askt him who were those that found fault with his proceedings? why that is I (said the old man) & these and these persons of quality, which he reckoned unto him. Herod sends him to safe custody, while he makes sure of the rest, whom he dooms all to die. Then causing his sonnes to be brought all to the City of Sebast, hee dispatcheth two of the most cruell Lictors that he had in his service, for to strangle them in prison. The poor Princes, who expected nothing lesse then such a sentence, seeing the dreadfull visages of these hel-hounds, and the horrid shape of death before their eyes, grew pale and bloodlesse with feare, [Page 182] and askt them what newes they brought? but they taking them a­part like sheepe aocounted for the slaughter, and shewing them the instrument of death, they plainly discover'd the reason of their comming; for without any more adoe they tooke them by the throats, & putting the fatall cords about, strangled them by maine force without any mercy. Poore Glaphira, who did yet cherish a good hope of her husband's desi­verance, when she was a preparing of new batteries to move her Fa­ther in law to mercy, she heares at once the sad story of Alexander's death, and her owne widdow. hood: she was for a good while in a swoune, and after recovery stood as mute as a statue, then recolle­cting her spirits, and fetching a deepe and hearty sigh, Alas quoth [Page 183] she I never thought that Herod would proceed to this! Tell him his sacrifice of cruelty is not yet compleat: Loe here one moyty of it yet survives. Alexander, my deare Alexander, that livest eter­nally in my heart, must thou have ended thy candid innocent daies by such an infamous executioner? Must thou have for thy hang-man one whom nature had given for thy Father? Thou shouldst at least have call'd for mee to receive the last breathing of thy departing soule, to receive thy last speeches, & to lay them up in the Cabinet of my heart. Then turning to her two children that were by her side: A­las poor Orphans, your Father wil no more dandle you, and you must now begin your apprentiship of misery in this tender age. The poore Lady did afflict her selfe [Page 184] extremely day and night, and be­ing not able to live any longer in the Court of Iudea, no more then in a Lion's denne, shee was sent back to Capadocia to the King her Father. Herod retained her two sonnes under colour of bringing them up; but indeed for his grea­ter safety, for feare that their name might serve for a pretence to some revolt.

O the providenceof the Al­mighty! Thou seemest too tardy in powring vengeance upon the heads of malefactors. These young Princes the children of so vertuous a Mother, so well edu­cated, & so compleat for all good parts, being declar'd heires appa­rent to the Crowne: These Prin­ces, who were seene (but five years before) to returne in triumph from Rome to Ierusalem, like the [Page 185] two twin-starres that gilded all Palestine with their resplendent beames: These Princes who pro­mis'd so many Trophies, and so many wonders, behold them now in their verdant yeares, in the flowre of their hopes, at the gate of the Temple of honour, for a li­tle freenesse in language unmerci­fully massacred, and insteed of a crowne upon their head, die with cords about their necks, strangled by the hands of two of Herod's guard! Loe the goodly apprenti­ship, and essayes that Herod made three yeares before the birth of our Saviour for to prepare him­selfe for actions, yet more horri­ble and tragicall! It is said of Sylla that if mercy her selfe were in hu­mane flesh upon the earth, hee would have slaine her; but Herod did what was worse, after so many [Page 186] butcheries his thirst of blood could not yet be satisfied, but im­brues his hands in the blood of 14000 Innocents, and seeks to destroy the Saviour of mankind, the Son of God himselfe, as e­very man knows the story out of holy Writ.

'Tis now time to see the guer­don of these distorted degenerous soules, that wee may observe the line or course of divine provi­dence, which doth use to inflict some exemplary punishments here on earth on the wicked, and to give them a relish of those eter­nall paines they shall endure in hell.

Detestable Antipater, who had contriv'd these mischiefes, seeing the two heires of the Kingdome made away by his undermining wit, thought hee had already [Page 187] mounted halfe the degrees to the Throne: Hee continued in his quaint rogueries, and malicious pranks, still lurking under the maske of piety, as one that had ex­treme care of the life and state of his Father, ayming in the meane while at no other but then to make himselfe shortly absolute Lord: And fearing that Herod's affection toward him (which was ever wa­vering and changeable,) should coole, he goes about every day to practise great intelligences to make his cards, and winne bene­volence; but hee was hated of the people as a Tigre, and the souldi­ers that knew him guilty of his brethrens blood (who were so wel belov'd of the nobles) could never affect him.

The Commonalty above all were extremely touch't with com­passion, [Page 188] passion, when ever the children of Alexander and Aristobulus (who were brought up in Herod's court) were led in the streets. All the world beheld the poore Orphans with weeping eies, and with much anguish of soule call'd to mind the disasters of their Fathers. Antipa­ter saw well that it was exp [...]dient for him to absent himselfe from the Court, both to extinguish en­vy, and that hee might not sindge his wings by flickering too long about the candle, fearing that in time his Father (who was but too cunning in such matters) would sent him out and his projects. Yet not withstanding hee was so close, that hee would not openly begge leave of Herod for absence, for feare hee should engender suspici­on, but he got his friend at Rome (with whom hee dealt under [Page 189] hand) to write letters to his father in his behalfe, which effected all that he desired, namely; that it was expedient for him to send him to Rome, for to breake and divert some enterprises of the Arabians on the Kingdome of Iudea. Herod having received these Letters, di­spatcheth him presently, with a very goodly equipage; with great Presents, and the Testament with­all, whereby he was declared King after his fathers decease. Loe for­tune hath fill'd the sayles of his desires! But as the eye of the Al­mighty never sleepes, and takes the crafty in their own imaginati­ons, it hapned that Pheroras, who as we have related, acted his part in this bloody tragoedy, departed this world by a suddain death, and poyson'd as it was thought by the maid which he had married.

Herod being intreated to goe o­ver to his brothers house to make inquisition of the fact, findes by good warrant and far besides his thoughts, how that Antipater his son had sent Pheroras (when he was in disgrace and out of favour at Court) some poyson for to make away his father then while he was at Rome, that so he might returne immediatly to Palestine with his temples girt with a Diadem. This was depos'd by a son of Antipa­ters farmer, whom hee had made overseer of his estate during his absence; which was seconded with such pregnant & strong presump­tions and evident circumstances, that there was now nothing left to suspend his beliefe. Herod asks where was this poyson? The young man replied, it was with the window of his brother Phero­ras [Page 191] she being questioned concer­ning it got up to an upper roome, pretending to goe and fetch it, but being got up to the top of the house, in a desperate manner shee casts her selfe down headlong; but it pleased God that this fall proved not mortall according to her desire. They did incourage her and made all promises of impuni­ty, if she would but freely confesse the truth: She confesseth that in­deed her husband had a poyson sent from Antipater, and that hee was once minded for to doe the deed, but it repented him a litle be­fore his death, & he detested such wickednesse: & upon these words shee takes out the poyson which they sound to be most deadly, by making experiment upon con­demn'd persons. At that very time Eathillus a freeman of Anti­paters [Page 192] was surprised, comming from Rome to Iudea, to advise Phe­roras to hasten his designe, & brin­ging another poyson, in case the former did not prove effectuall. In the mean time Antipater writes to his Father, that hee labour'd dili­gently at Rome to dispell some cloudes of slander and to cleare his affaires, which hee hoped to bring about, and to return very shortly for Iudea. Herod who would have long since caught him in his clawes, sends to him these lines;

Sonne, my declining age & the crazinesse of my body doe every day instruct me that I am mortall, one thing comforts me that I have made choice of your person to succeed me in my Throne: I shall see my old age spring againe & flourish in your and my [Page 191] death to be smother'd (as it were) in your life, seeing that I shall liue in my other halfe, which is your deare selfe. I would you had con­tinued still neere my person, not only for the assistance your piety still afforded me, but for the pre­judice that might acrew to your fortune by your absence: Faile not therefore with the good leave of Caesar to render your self here pre­sent with the best speed you can; delay will not any way favour your affaires here. This bayt had charm enough to allure, and art enough to conceale the hook. Vp­on these news, hee was ready to ride upon the wings of the winde to present himselfe in Ierusalem: He dispatcheth his businesse, takes leave of Augnstus, & makes all ex­pedition possible to shew the be­hests of his father. It was very [Page 192] strange, that hee could never have any advertisements by the way of what had passed, so odious was he to God and man! But being at Cilicia hee learnt that his mother was discarded and expell'd the Court, which did much affright him, and hee thought to beat his way back againe: But one of his Councell (perchance suborn'd by Herod) begins to tell him, that if there were nothing intended a­gainst him he needed not to feare, and if any slander was broacht of him, hee ought to make the more hast to quash it, other wise his ab­sence would but cause further su­spicion. He swallowes the advise, and (not withstanding some secret reluctancie, & remorse of consci­ence) he followes the road for I [...] ­dea. when hee was arrived at the haven of Sebaste he began to [...] [Page 193] into deeper apprehensions of dan­ger then ever; for having seen at this very Port not long before at his departure such a throng of people tearing the ayre with their acclamatiōs, not for any love they owed to him, but to shew their o­beisance to Herod, who would have it so; but he now perceived that fortune had turn'd tail, he was receiv'd with a lowring counte­nance, & some did look upon him askue with a quarter face, & mur­mur'd between their teeth, as cur­sing him for that hee had spilt his brethrens bloud. He was engag'd too far on to make retrair, & Gods vengeance had already markt out his lodgings. He goes on from Se­baste strait for Ierusalem, and mar­ches to the Pallace, sumptuously apparelled, and with a numerous traine: the Gard made way for him [Page 194] to enter, but were commanded by the King to keep back all those that attended him; hee was quite astonisht to see himselfe caught so like a bird in a net, neverthelesse he goes on his vvay, enters the hall vvhere his father staid, expecting his approach, accompanied with Quintilius Varus lately sent from Rome to bee Governour of Syria. When hee had made a most reve­rend submissive congy, he drawes neere to kisse his father according to the manner of the Countrey, but he straightvvaies heares the roaring of a Lion, for Herod dravving a step backe cryes out, Stand aloofe Murtherer, it is not for you any more or any such to receive the welcome kisses of a fa­ther: Behold there Q. Varus your Iudge, bethink your selfe by to morrow how to answer to such [Page 195] crimes as you are charged with. He was thunderstrooke with this speech and withdrew himself out of the roome with palenesse in his face, and the horrour of his crime in his conscience. In the next chamber he findes his mother and his wife all drencht in teares, who with lamenting eyes had already solemniz'd his funerall: such an astonishment seiz'd upon him that hee had neither a tongue to com­fort them, nor so much as teares to bewaile his own misfortunes. He past over all the night with much disquiet of minde, finding now by experiment that it was ea­sier for to commit a crime then excuse it. The morrow being come, hee was call'd before the judgement seat, where hee found his father with Q. Varus & a good number of the Counsellers of [Page 196] state. Vpon the very point, newes was brought of some letters of his mother that were intercepted, which did give him notice that all was discover'd, and that he should beware to return and put himselfe into the hands of his father, if hee would not fall into the jaws of a Lion. This was shewed him at his entrie into the Councell▪ Cham­ber, hee expected but the houre when he should be strangled, hee was already under the Strapadoes of his conscience; therefore casting himselfe down on his knees, hee begs of his father that hee might not be condemn'd before he vvere heard: Herod replies, Varlet what hast thou to say? Hath God re­served thee to be the last scourge of my old age? Thou knowest I have taken thee from the bottome and lees of fortune for to place [Page 197] thee aboue thy brethren, both be­yond and against all hopes. I have put all my treasures, my revenues, my authority, my affection, my secrets, my heart, and my Crowne into thy hands by a testament sca­led with mine own hand, and couldst not thou expect till thy Fathers eyes were closed up by a naturall death, that thou mightest freely enjoy them? This was it that thy designes did then ayme [...] when thou didst so hotly pursue the death of thy brethren. I have done nothing in their araignment, but by thy denunciation, and ad­vice. Accurst wretch, I am afraid that thou hast stain'd mee with their blood; thy crimes doth now giue light to their [...] At these words hee wept bitterly, recalling to minde his Mar [...], and unhappy children, hee fou [...] [Page 198] his heart so opprest with sorrow, that he was faine to entreat his Chancellour Nicholas Damascene to proceed. Antipater prevented him and spake in his own defence, That they did him great wrong to believe slaves, and women to his prejudice, that he had Casars let­ters (whom he could no more de­ceive then God himselfe) which gave ample testimony of his good abeare, and what content he gaue to all at Rome; that he was never wanting in his piety towards his Father; and it were a peece of ex­treme folly to thrust himselfe in­to uncertain dangers for a Crowne that he was certain of, and had in his own hands. Briefly, not to make a longer discourse, that hee offered himselfe to be used like a slave, and to bee set upon the rack to prove his innocence. And spea­king [Page 199] this he did rave, and stamp in a fearefull manner, insomuch that he began to move all the bench to pitty and wonder. Nicholas Da­mascene being a stern and rough Iudge, takes him in hand, con­fronts him with witnesses, canvas­seth him, presseth, puzles, & quite confounds him, then dischargeth a invective against him, exaggerating (like an Orator) all the circumstances of his crime. Is it not (saith he) a brutish stupidity to conspire against your Father, the bloud of your brethren being as yet before your eyes, and all the assurances of a Scepter in your hands. must a man needs be a Par­ricide for to bee possessour of a Crown which was bequeathed you by Testament so solemne and authentick? Did you expect any more then [...]hat your Fathers [Page 200] blood should be the seal? and such a father whose life is precious a­mong all good men, and whose nature is so indulgent in favour of his children, deserve they never so litle. An ingratitude able to make heaven to blush, and the earth to tremble under our feet, yea and worthy that all the elements should conspire to chastise it. The man ran on thus in fire and fury; powring out a torrent of words, while the wreteh Antipater with a dejected countenance pra [...]'d God to work some miracle in his be­half for to manifest his innocence, seeing that he was mercilesly op­prest by the malice of his adversa­ries. It is strange that a man who had no god in his life time, would now seek one at his death. This mā lived as though there were neither heaven nor Hell, and seeing him [Page 201] so neere the brink of death, he besough a Daity to patronize his offence. Varus speaks to him, my friend, expect not any extraordi­nary signes from heaven on your behalfe, but if you haue any speci­ous reason or Apologie produce it into evidence, the King your Fa­ther desires nothing more then that you might quit your selfe no­bly. Vpon this hee was confoun­ded as a lost man. Varus taking the poyson which was brought to the judgement seat caus'd it to be giuen to a Malefactour that was sentenced to death, who died im­mediatly in the place; whereupon all the assembly arose forth with, thereby giving manifest token of Antipater's condemnation. His Father now holding him for con­vict, demands of him who were his complices, he nam'd but Anti­philus

Philus only who had brought the poison, and said that that Varlet had been the cause of his undoing. It wanted but litle, that Herod did not then presently execute the sentence of death; but according to his ordinary proceedings he re­solv'd to acquaint Caesar there­with first, and to send him the pro­cesse with full instructions of the examination, that so he might doe according to his good pleasure. In the mean while Antipater is shut up in close prison, expecting each day (like a piacular victime) the fatall stroak.

Herod moreover had now about threescore and ten yeares upon his back, and by the feeblenesse of his age perceived the signalls of deaths approch: This was a bit very tough to digest, never did a­ny man love this life so well; hee [Page 203] had verily parted with his portion in the other world, that hee might enjoy this forever, for that, indeed he was superlatively wicked. To­wards his later daies hee grew so pensive and thenso cholerick, and furious, that his domestick ser­vāts knew not how to boord him. Hee was in his Court like an old Lion bound in the chaines of in­curable diseases: Hee perswaded himselfe, that hee was hated of all the world, and hee was not decei­ved in his opinion, for hee had gi­ven but too much occasion.

The people burst the yoke of duty and allegiance, and could no longer endure him. As soon as the rumour ran of his sicknesse, Iudes and Mathias, two of the most famous Doctors of the Iew­ish law, who had all the youth of Hierusalem under their charge, in­stigated [Page 204] stigated some of the boldest of their sect unto a vēturous attempt, as thus. Herod having reëdified & much beautified the Temple of Hierusalem (as hee had alwaies shewed himselfe for his own in­terrests an Idolater of Caesars for­tune,) caus'd on the chiefest gate thereof to bee planted the Roman Eagle which glittered all in gold: This was a great eye-sore to the Iews, who never could endure any shape of man or beast within their Temples: so much did they abhor these monsters which their fathers in Aegypt ador'd. Loe this was the reason why Iudas M [...]athias, who were as the principall men (thinking that Herods sicknesse fa­vour'd their purposes) began to exhort in good earnest the most valiant of the young men that fre­quented their houses, to take in [Page 205] hand Gods quarrell according to the noble spirits of their ancesters and to batter down this abomina­tion that was advanc'd upon the Temple: the danger was not now so great, Herod being cumbred with businesses and diseases, but if it should happen that any should loose his life, to dye in so good & glorious an act was to dye trium­phant, and Laurells would grow up out of their tombes. They faild not to spur up these younkers, & to set an edge on their courage, with many specious and plausible arguments. Loe a regiment of the most resolute of them, goes forth at mid-day, arm'd with axes and hatchets, who scale the Temple & quash in pieces the Eagle in the sight of all the world; Judas and Matthias being then present, and serving as trumpets to the sediti­on. [Page 206] The noise arriv'd presently at Court, the Captain of the Guard runs thither with a maniple of the hardiest souldiers, hee was afraid of some greater matter towards, & that this demolition was but a ve­litation, or skirmish of a greater tumult. But at first onset, when he began to charge, the people did re­tire, which did encourage him to fall on, and to follow closer: forty young men that were busiest were taken in the place, Iudas and Mat­thias bearing them company, thin­king it a dishonour to recoile, and that they ought to follow them at least into danger, whom they at first had lead into mischiefes. As they were presented to Herod, and being askt whence proceeded that insolent presumption and rashnes, they frankly answered that the businesse had been consulted of, & [Page 207] well discust among them, and if it were yet to be done, they were ready to put into execution: foras­much as they were more oblig'd to obey Moses then Herod. Herod some what startled with their reso­lution, and fearing greater com­motions, caus'd them secretly to be convey'd to Ierico, whether himself was carried, though weak and sickly. Then assembling the chiefest of them, he speaks to them from his couch, making a large narration of the good offices hee had done to that nation, of the Temple which he had built, the ornaments with which he did en­rich in; adding that in few yeares he had done what their Hassamo­nean Kings could not in 120, and in recompence of his piety they went at high-noon to violate with strange insolence a sacred dona­tive [Page 208] he bestowed on the Temple, in the which God was more inte­ressed then himselfe, and therefore he did so much the more require a reason of this attempt.

These men fearing to awake his anger, further did falsifie & clude the blow, and did transfer it all on their companions, abandoning them to the discretion of the king. Thereupon the Priest hood was ta­ken away from Matthias, and an­other Matthias, who was held to be a ring-leader in the sedition, was burnt alive with his compa­nions that same night, at which time was seen an ecclipse of the Moon, which made the spectacle yet more terrible. Herod some few daies after having tried, and spent in vain all humane remedies, was brought into a miserable state of sicknesse, which is pertinently de­scribed [Page 209] by Iosephus and Ensebius. It was Gods pleasure hee should drink often and deep of the cup of his justice in this life, wasting his wretched body with tedious paines. therefore hee was smote from heaven, and was charged with a fierce squadron of incura­ble diseases, he that frō his youth up did bu [...] with a furious ambiti­on, felt at his death a greedy fire feeding on his entralls: hee that all his lifetime, had an insatiable thirst of a massing treasure (insomuch that he digg'd up the tombes of David and Solomon for to ransack the spoiles) was tormented with a Dog appetite; a horrible disease, and which modesty feares to de­seribe, which made him cry out for hunger, eating day and night and could not be satisfied, hee that made so many voiages and per­formed [Page 210] so many atchievements to raise himselfe aboue the levell of ordinary fortunes, saw then his feet swolen with redundant hu­mours. He that practis'd so many [...]ortures in his life time, was now rackt with the violent and intole­rable pangs of a Chollick: he that bereav'd so many men of their breath, did now draw breath with much difficulty and pain: He that held humane wisdome and polli­cie for the nerves and strength of his estate, felt now in his body such Cramps and Convulsions of Nerves and Sinewes, that hee was sorely and pittifully shaken: Hee that had shed poore Mariamnes blood, murther'd her Sonnes for to make the Kids boile in the milk of the Damme, as the Scripture speaks: Hee that had imbrued his hands in the bloud of about

14000 innocents with an intenti­on to involve the Saviour of the world in that generall massacre died in his own bloud afflicted with a cruell dissentry. He that had abused his member. with mon­strous luxurie was over-run and consum'd with an army of Lice, accōpanied with an ignominious satiriasme, a disease which I scarce dare name. And now, say the eye of providence is not awakt for the punishing of delinquents. This desperate wretch at his death in­steed of adoring the justice of God and kissing the rod that gave him correction, thinks on now slaughters. Hee assembles by an edict the most principall of the lewes out of every Province un­to Ierice, and having pounded thē within the cirque hee calls to him his Sister Salome and her husband

Alexander, and addresseth his speech unto them in this manner.

It grieves mee not at all to dye and to render that tribute to na­ture, which so many Kings before me have paid. But it troubles mee that my death wil not be so much bemoaned as I could wish, if you doe refrain your hands. Know then that for this purpose I have sent for these Nobles of Irdea; As soone as ever death shall draw these Curtaines over mine eyes, let them all fall by the edge of the sword, and let not my death be di­vulg'd before that the newes of these mens death arrive at each ones Country and kindred. By this meanes I hope to fill all Iudea with lamentation and woe, which will be musick to my soule as her last departure. This pernicious fiendin thus spealing, be fought

Sister with hot teares, by all that she esteemed in the world most precious & sacred, & as she hoped for Paradise, to perform his wil, and to give him content: she must promise it with an oath at that ve­ry instant, though afterwards it was not at all put in execution.

In this sole act hee shewed that he was not inform'd with a reaso­nable soule, he was but a wolfe in mans skin and shape, and that the thirst of humane bloud was now chang'd into his nature. As hee was making this goodly Testa­ment, Letters were brought him from Caesar which did acquaint him that one Acme a lewish Dam­sell, who was of the train of Livia the wife of Augustus, had beene convicted of bad intelligence with Antipater, and was therefore pu­nisht with death, as for his sonnes [Page 214] hee referr'd them wholly to his own disposall. This man at the point of death suckt revenge yet with wonderfull pleasure. This newes was balme to his tortur'd carcase, he calls for an apple and a knife, thinking to pare it himselfe, but thereupon his paines (that had given him but short truce) assaild him with double force, so that he was quite weary of his life which he had so dearely lov'd. One of his grand children nam'd Achia­bus, who at that time stood neere the bed, perceived that hee rolled his eyes furiously, and lookt as though he would have rid himself of his torments with the knife hee had in his hand, which did much affright the young Prince, who holding his arme as gently as hee could, hee beganne to cry out, as though his good father had yeel­ded [Page 215] up the Ghost, wherewith the whole Court was mustered up. Antipater out of his prison over­heard the tumult, and suspected that Herod was a dying, he did not yet despaire of the Crown, offe­ring mountaines (as wee say) of gold to his Warder to let him escape.

But behold the judgement of God! the keeper of the prison in­steed of all the ample rewards that were promised him, and which he might have enjoyed, he goes strain way to the Father and relates to him how that. Antipater had urg'd him withall supplications & pro­mises to let him loose out of the prison, that he might take possessi­on of the kingdome. Herod ra [...]ing and beating his head, cries out. what will the villain murther mee in my bed, I have yet life enough [Page 216] to take away his, then raising him selfe a litle upon the boulster, and leaning upon his elbow, he cals to one of the Guard, goe you (quoth he) hence to the prison & kill that parrici [...]e there, and let him be in­terred in the Castle of Hyrcanus with out any Rites, or solemnities of a funerall. This was instanrly executed, and such was the end of this unhappy thing, who mov'd Earth and Hell for to mount his fathers throne, according as some Matherfaticians had foretold.

Five daies being exphed from the death of Antipater, Herod after he had declared Arche [...]aus for his Succed out in the Realme, contra­ry to [...] determinatiō, where­by he had designed it for Antipa­ter, after he had astorted to his two other Sonnes such portions as hee thought good, and beqdeathed [Page 217] large Legacies to August us Caesar he gave up his wretched soule in rage, and despaire, in the yeare of his life threescore and ten, and of his raigne 37. A man (saith lose­phus) whose actions alwaies over­rul'd the Lawes, land his passions them, who notwithstanding all his prosperity was esteem'd the most miserable man in the world. Mark how this Author speaks, who was a wise Statesman to instruct hu­mane pollicy, that there is nei­ther wisdome, nor greatnesse, nor happinesse where God is wanting. For to let passe [...] eternall tor­ments of the oth [...] [...] [...]hich this barbaro [...] [...] [...]nder the hand of [...]. I am verily perswad [...] [...] there is no Pesant, nor Hin [...] (if he be not stu­pid) would change one day of his life for the thirty seven yeares of

Herods raigne, which hee past in continuall jealousnesse, trouble­some affaires, perilous voyages, si­nister mistrusts, barbarous cruel­ties, and remorse of conscience, which is the harbenger, & pream­ble of Hell. Leaving more o­ver behinde him a nume­rous, and unhappy Posterity.