University of Virginia Library

THE TEMPLE OF VESTA, A DRAMATIC POEM.

THE TEMPLE OF VESTA.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

• Ramiel , Spirit of the Earth and Air.
• Asmodia , Spirit of the Earth and Air.
• Nergal , Spirit of the Earth and Air.
• King of Jericho , Canaanites.
• Priest of Vesta , or the Earth , Canaanite.
• Senators , Canaanite.
• Adriel , father to Rahab, Canaanite.
• Abdon , betrothed to Rahab, Canaanite.
• Eliezer , his friend, Canaanite.
• Achan , Hebrew Spy.
• Zalmon , Hebrew Spy.
• Travellers , guests of Adriel.
• Canaanites.
• Rahab.

Scene—Jericho.

ACT I.

[Scene I.]

Scene—The Temple of Vesta , or the Earth at Jericho. Time—The Evening.
RAMIEL, ASMODIA, NERGAL, and other Spirits of the Earth, Air, Water and Fire.
Rami.
With luckiest policy, Demonian powers!
In seeming resignation we have left
Our old distinguished, throne where long the world
Ador'd us, by the name of heroes old
And stellar virtues; this confirms our sway
Thro' all the limits of our old domain
Under proud appellations new bestow'd
By seeming sapient man: a general name
On us our slaves impose, of nature, power
(Never beginning, never doom'd to end)
Of this great mundane mass, upholding all
Itself upheld by nothing. Still the crowd
('Tis true) beneath our old heroic names
Our deities adore; but wiser men
Whose grey-hair'd prudence wield the state at will,
Tho' they support our worship and pretend
A reverence for our vulgar names, renown'd
Among the people, yet, by reasoning pride
Misled, but more by vice, have found a Power
Irrational prolific, which sustains
The varying forms of this prodigious mass
With eyeless bounty, undistinguished love
To merit or demerit, good or ill.
Hence are they freed from every anxious dread
Of coming retribution, and indulge
In lust and hard oppression, at their ease,
As youth or age the varying gust inspires.—
This bounteous mother here, with secret rites
The nobles worship, rites to none disclos'd,
But to th'initiate; Night shall soon behold
Some youths of noblest name admitted here
To share the knowledge of these mystic things
The vulgar must not know. The herd, which tills
The soil, and sweats beneath the noonday load
(Hewn from the quarry, and with labour borne
To lift yon bulwarks high against the foe)
These slaves have lost their freedom and their worth,
Bondmen alike in body and in mind,
They bear no mark of their great origin
Celestial, but the upright form, unless
Some bitter tears, when bondage wrings their souls
Forgotten soon, when in the sacred fane
The festive noise of jocund minstrelsie
Proclaims nocturnal orgies, when the powers
Of music, love and wine patrol our groves.
Then every tie of kindred, and of law
Dissolve beneath the musky hand, unfelt
Of midnight and her hell-born hags, who spy
With horrid glee, such sights as blast the morn
And check almost the sempiternal wheel
Of mundane things. Thus tho' our names be lost
Our old imperial names, among the great,
Our Empire o'er the minds of these proud peers
Under the favourite name of Nature, holds
With links more durable than adamant,
By the smooth sophistry of vice confirm'd.—
But these invaders from the banks of Nile
Must be provided for, therefore your aid
Ye spirits of the mingling elements!
Earth, air and water, and the rage of fire
I claim, how best your subjects to confirm
In their allegiance, by what charms to lift
Their ductile minds above the slavish dread
Of these fell rovers of the burning waste
To whose strange minstrelsie the rivers dance
In uncouth measures to the wond'ring clouds
And seem to dash the moon!

Ner.
More need have we
To keep the crowd from wild revolt, enflam'd
By their oppression, and bent down, like beasts,
Prone to their mother earth!

Asm.
The self same skill
Will serve to manage both, if any skill
Be needful, where themselves (if to themselves
Resign'd) will still hold out, if not against
The warriours steel, against the rigid law
That combates with their vices. On our power
We build too much, and with a fruitless care
(Which this occasion calls not) labour on
Still to deprave the self-deprav'd.—The powers
Of habit who denies? It gives to vice
Or virtue, as it chances each to aid
A nerve of steel, insuperably strong!
The mind, by heaven illumin'd, and confirm'd
In virtuous habits, tho' the welkin frown
Tho' friends forsake him, tho' yon elements
Conspire against him, yet, elated high
Above the small annoyance, wafts aside
The pigmy war, with calm, unruffled brow
And easy effort, like the shepherd swain
Whose gentle slumbers by an evening cloud
Of buzzing flies, is broke.—Nor less the soul
Whom deeds of darkness keep in thraldom sure,
Tho' nature, all alarm'd, with thund'ring peal
Clamours at every port of sense, which gives
An inlet to the mind, tho' clouds distil
Ambrosial food, tho' Neptune's surge invades
The rampires of the sky, and lifts their waves
In proud defiance to the fighting winds
Tho' Jordan's waters fly before the foot
Of heaven's proud favourites to the parent spring
In hoarse retreat, and send from hill to hill
The solemn warning to the nations round
To leave their crimes, the soul by habit fixt
In vice, her whole attention draws within
And lets the civil war of elements
In all their wond'rous transmutations, rage
Without, unheeded.—Hence the glimmering lamp
Of conscience at the last goes out, unfed
By this external nourishment, bereft
By tyrant vice, of that immaculate oil
Which reason breeds within—then leave the sons
Of Canaan to themselves, while lust survives
To rule the young, while selfishness and love
Of gold, inveterate grown, by thirst of sway
Enslaves the old, ye have no need to fear
A partner in your reign.

Ner.
But then, at last
What have we to expect, but to behold
(All impotent to save), our vassals, made
Public examples of cælestial wrath?

Asm.
Let them!—for such the strange variety
Of human character, that, tho' a few
May take the warning, and renounce their crimes
A greater number still will brave the hand
Uplifted to destroy, for, such was still
The consequence, even when the sentenc'd walls
Of Sodom flam'd, and such will ever be
While man is man, the sport of every breeze
The slave of habit, tho' his will be free
To chuse or to refuse his weal or woe.—
Meantime, tho' our great foe invades our bounds
With partial inroade, and alarms our states
Here on the frontier, yet our central hold
Of darkness, still his utmost power defies.—

Ner.
Who, at the last result, will gain the palm,
To what those various-fortun'd tribes of men
Are yet reserv'd, who knows?

Asm.
And how are we
Concern'd? our empire still survives and grows
With still advancing bounds, except alone
Those desart wanderers from the banks of Nile.

Rami.
And we must be provided to receive
These wanderers from the Nile, altho' heaven's hand
Fights for them, and our elemental walk
On their account, is hem'd in narrower bounds—
Yet we have room within the cavern'd world
Below, to range at pleasure, to explore
Her secret hoards, and thence, for our avail
No despicable aid may be procur'd.
Be it your province, Asmodai! to range
The subterranean world, with your compeers
And all the fragrant families that drink
In those green vales, and winding borders long
Or on the lofty hill's aerial brow
The salutary lymph, quintessence pure
Of health, which, mingling their ambrosial stores
Bid the eye sparkle, and the spirits dance
New brace the fine, corporeal chords, whose tone
Respondent to the movements of the mind
Chimes in glad unison, till all within
And all without is harmony and health,
High confidence, heroic energy
Of mind and body. Hence collect with care
The steaming soul of all the verdant tribes
Salubrious, that adorn th'enamel'd sod,
Or from the hill perfume the morning gale,
With them, commingle, sever, and distill
Each hidden virtue, each quintessence pure
Chalybeate, or saline, gem or stone,
With those exhal'd, sublim'd, or mixt with care
Or single (as requir'd) be the pure breath
Of morn impregnate, and this evening breeze
That whispers thro' yon palms, and bend their boughs
In gentle salutation; Thence the Peers
Of Canaan, as they bend before the shrine
Of the prime mother Vesta, nature's queen
Will think these emanations pure ascend
By her benignant order, to inspire
Elated thought, that spurns the mundane stage
And soaring, leaves behind the feeble dread
Of chance or change, of conquest or of death!—
Then shall they hymn the bounteous Power that gives
The transitory boon of sensual joy,
And short dominion, with a louder lay
Of triumph o'er their wand'ring foes, who camp
Among the rocks of Gilgal. Should the sons
Of vagrant Israel send their proud demand
With choice of conquest or submission, soon
With high contempt the message will be hurl'd
In proud defiance back.

[Exeunt Asmodai and other Spirits.

SCENE II.

RAMIEL, NERGAL.
Ner.
So far thy matchless wisdom and thy care
For the reception of our Hebrew foes
Have well provided, Asmodai can forge
The viewless chain, which draws the willing mind
Already lur'd by vice, but say, what drug
What mineral charm, or vegetable spell
Can levy the wild passions to engage
In black revolt, where reason, awful queen
Reigns paramount, and pure religion guards
Against surprize, an heavenly centinel
That laughs a siege to scorn?—Thou know'st, the foe
Has gain'd a party even within our walls
A formidable party, tho' its power
Be to a solitary breast confin'd
But that, a match for legions!

Rami.
Far too high
Thou ratest this hindrance, for thou mean'st none else
But Adriel's daughter, by her sire betroth'd
To Abdon! oft with mingled grief and rage
I mourn'd my baffled arts, employ'd in vain
On her,—confusion blast that ancient swain
(If man he was) who her allegiance first
From us withdrew! I saw him, when he came
To Adriel's hospitable dome; with him
The numerous caravans of Elam came
Over the burning waste, secure of harm—
Yet in his garb and dialect was found
The genuine stamp of distant Ind; his cheek
Bore the deep tincture of that fervid clime,
His presence struck, with reverential awe
Of something more than man;—within the bounds
Hallowed by his approach, I durst not shew
My visage tho' disguis'd; The virgin seem'd
With filial duty, mixt with love, to hear
His powerful documents, whate'er they were.—
And since that time, tho' oft in heavenly form
I try'd to touch her heart, and lure aside
Her mind from heaven to her allegiance old,
My charms were all in vain, my arts were lost,—
Had that old pilgrim still attended near
Unseen, with ceaseless vigilance, her heart
Could scarce have been more hostile to the gods
Of her forefathers!

Ner.
At this important crisis, why on her
Employ your thoughts; a maid of humble name
And humbler fortunes? does it aught import
The fate of nations, whether she retract
Her fealty to Israel's god or join
Her country's foes?

Rami.
If old experience try'd
In this dark scene (that long has mark'd the range
Of human fates, and how the ruling hand
Disposes things, as best to suit his scheme
Of spreading o'er the world his hated sway)
May be believ'd, she lives to blast our views.—
Still as the wasteful plague, at his behest
Walks forth to scourge his foes, a welcome beam
Of bright encouragement to those who pay
His laws their homage due, dispells the gloom
Of penal darkness.—Witness Goshen's plains
Sun-clad, while Nile with melancholy roar
Explor'd his passage thro' the mourning lands
Beneath a starless sky, and Sodom's gates
Spontaneous opening to the good man's flight
And closing on his foes with sullen sound,
Reserv'd in durance till th'avenging flame
Descending swept them thence.— And Terah's son
Tho' fugitive, and exil'd in the cause
Of injur'd deity, yet largely blest
With rural wealth. Of his posterity
Joseph, the great support of Egypt's throne
Who o'er his cruel brethren, pin'd with want
The noblest triumph of the mind enjoy'd
The triumph of benevelence and love
From those examples, cull'd in ancient times
This sad conclusion flows, that she perhaps
Who baffles thus our wiles, and singly dares
To boast allegiance to our mighty foe
Among our fanes, is conjur'd up to prove
A bright example of those high rewards
And honours due to those illustrious names
Who singularly good, dare stem the tide
Of vice and folly;—those who dauntless stand
Against the current of a giddy world—
This merits pause.

Ner.
But is there time to pause?
It calls for swift prevention, for this night
As Hesper twinkled in the west, I spy'd
Two strangers, in the garb of rural swains
Approach the gate; their garments, dust-besprent
And parched lips seem'd to tell what length of leagues
Their feet had travers'd, yet they scarce have past
The gate, (and if I guess aright) are come
Spies from the Hebrew camp, in foreign mask
Disguis'd!

Rami.
Oh! let them pass! forbid them not!
—Thou know'st, at this unseasonable hour
None pass the gate, unless the royal sign
Obtain admittance—thou, in herald's guise
Unbar the portal, and to Adriel's house
Instant conduct them!—there the way-worn man
From distant Nilus, with the merchant meets
Who brings the bales of Asia cross the sands
Of sunny Tadmor to the Menphian shore,—
On Rahab there I mean my arts to try
Of various enginry, to threat, to soothe—
Hard, if a female heart can stand the siege
Of such confederates!—

Ner
Why to Rahab's doors
Conduct the strangers? is it meet to bring
Such fuel to her proud rebellious flame
Already blazing far beyond its bounds?—

Rami.
Leave the result to me, on this I build
A scheme for all their ruins, or at least
To bring this virgin, from the ambitious pitch
Of pride and singularity, to find
An humbler portion—and take thou good heed
To guide the strangers hither,—haste away.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT II.

[Scene I.]

Scene—An Hall in the House of Adriel.
[The noise of music and dancing heard at a distance.
ABDON
—ALONE.

[Retires.

SCENE II.

The guests enter, their heads crown'd with wreaths of flowers, they form a circle and sing the following Hymn, Zalmon and Achan, the two Hebrews, at a distance.
[They all pour Libation in their order, one offers the cup to Zalmon, and next to Achan, who both refuse it.
1 Guest.
And who are ye, ungrateful men! who dare
Thus to renounce that loyalty ye owe
To your benignant mother? do ye live
Her pensioners, upon her bounty fed
Each moment of your lives? does every pulse
Bear witness to our Queens maternal love
And can ye still presume to thwart her rites
To check the hallowed harmony that reigns
Thro' this vast city in full unison
Of grateful adoration join'd? declare
Your names and whence you came, that we may learn
In what strange climate of the foodful earth
Our patroness maintains the thankless race
That spurn her bounty, and defy her power!

Zal.
We thank the hand that feeds us; nor deny
Superior goodness and superior power,
Nor are religious rites to us unknown,
Nor are our bosoms so obdur'd by crimes
As to forget to whom we owe ourselves,
And what is ours, but to declare our names
And country, we are yet forbid; our laws
Forbid us also to adore the gods
Of strangers!

1 Guest.
And is Vesta's name unknown
To any people, or to any clime
Is not her bounty felt by all?

Zal.
And much
By some abus'd! but we acknowledge one
No weak dispenser of his gifts to all
Promiscuous, undistinguish'd, as blind chance
Or blinder bounty (without justice) bids.
But one, who in the cause of virtue still
And for her sole encouragement, bestows
His various dispensations, if not here,
At least, hereafter.

1 Guest.
Came you here
To taste our bounty, and insult our ears
With fables of futurity, day-dreams
Implying censure on our conduct? then
'Tis like ye are not what ye seem! perhaps
Wanderers, or spies from yonder Hebrew camp
Egyptian vagabonds, or Arab thieves—
The state shall know you better, haste ye! come!
Seize those profaners of our holy rites
And bear them to the senate.

Zal.
Touch us not—
Our lives are not the playthings of a crowd
Zealots of a dumb idol, or a name
They know not what!

2 Guest.
Why stand ye thus aloof!

Ach.
Because a greater power than yet they know
Restrains them!

1 Guest.
That shall be determin'd soon
To your confusion.

[As they are going to seize them, four young Patricians come in (supposed of the party newly initiated in the secret rites of Vesta) all the guests disperse, except Zalmon and Achan.
Zal.
to Achan.
How the dastards fly!—
Great God! who bade their haughty tyrants shew
Their formidable aspects here, to chace
The trembling cowards hence! thy name we hail
And blest in thy protection stand our ground!

Enter ABDON.
[Exit.
1 Pat.
[Entering and looking around.]
Here late we heard
The voice of Revelry. Now all is hush'd,
And still. The crowd is all dispers'd, but two,
And who are they? They wear a foreign garb! To them.

Say, strangers! where is all the crew who join'd
So late in jovial clamour? hence the noise
Seem'd to proceed, but interrupted soon
By strains, unseemly on this festive night!

Zal.
We know not, we are strangers to your rites,
As to the tenor of your questions.

2 Pat.
Whence,
And who are ye?

Ach.
It boots not to declare
Our name or nation: in this public haunt
Of strangers, and promiscuous guests, from climes
And nations far remote, it were a task
Irksome and endless to enquire their names!

2 Pat.
Do ye presume to dally with your fate,
By dark evasion, and to wear that look
Of proud defiance too? Do ye not know
That in our bosoms rests the dread award
Of life and death?

Zal.
Your hand you cannot stretch
But by permission of an higher power,
And he, besure, will take a strict account
Whene'er against the hospitable law
Ye dare to lift it, or employ its force
To violate the stranger.

1 Pat.
Brother, come—
This is some vender of dry proverbs; fed
By wondering rustics with precarious meals
For selling wisdom by penurious scraps,
In pompous phrase, thro' cots and hamlets poor,
And now, his overweening pride conducts
This pedant to the capital, inspir'd
With empty hope a better mart to find
For his insipid ware.

3 Pat.
Avaunt!

2 Pat.
Begone!
Go hunt for hearers in the sordid haunts
Of rustic wonderment! we have in view
A nobler game!

[Exeunt Patricians.
Zal.
What mean the brain-sick boys,
Is it with native insolence, or wine,
Or the hot sallies of impetuous youth,
Their pride is lifted up so high?—

Ach.
Whate'er
The cause, they seem (all boastful as they are)
Devoid of native courage: did you mark
When you put on that lion-look, which marks
The race of Judah. how the colour fled
From the flush'd check, and Terror took her turn
To dim the sparkling insolence, that flam'd
In every glance?

Zal.
I did.—But all the guests,
Methinks, are fled!—What must the treatment be
That thus has crush'd the manly spirit down,
(And spite of the angelic form) depress'd
To the low level of the trodden worm
That darts into the cover, when he sees
The majesty of man approach! Those slaves
Are hardly worth a conquest, and their blood
Would but disgrace our swords, but that the will
Of heaven ordains to hold the miscreants up,
To after ages, an example dread
Of what they may expect, who float along
In the strong tide of tyranny and vice.—
But hark—a noise within!—We soon shall learn
The glorious cause, which brought those patriots forth,
For what redress of wrongs, what splendid acts
Of charity or valour they forsook,
At this dark hour, the orgies of their gods!

Rahab
within.
Help all ye pitying powers on high! Defend
My weakness, or I'm lost! Oh Abdon, Abdon,
Where at this sad, disastrous hour art thou?
Oh father, father!—But why call in vain
Father or friend, to rush on certain fate?

1 Pat.
within.
No, no—not here—another temple waits
A victim so illustrious! Heavens!—what charms, [She is dragged out by two of the patricians.

What dignity of scorn, what loveliness,
O'er all her form! My struggling fair-one! come,
It grieves us much, that to our lot it falls
To seize you as a criminal of state,
An open scorner of your country's gods!
And you, at this late hour, must come before
Th'assembled states, and answer to your charge.

3 Pat.
Or if your virgin modesty refuse
To grace the senate with your presence now,
Our order is to lead you to a place
Of safety, and attend you there till morn!

Rah.
O thou! who bad'st the Red Sea part before
Thy chosen armies! grant a way for me
To 'scape this shame, or send deliverance down,
From those!—

4 Pat.
Stop her audacious mouth! She speaks
Nothing but blasphemy!

[Zalmon and Achan appear.
Zal.
Thy prayers are heard,
Forsaken maid! but not o'erlook'd by heaven!

Ach.
Heavens! what a form! and is it thus you treat
The stamp of Heaven's own hand, when it appears
Amongst you?

1 Pat.
Who are you? Confusion—Here
Again! Plebeians! go! and find your cells.
What make you here at this dark hour? Avaunt,
Hide your obscurities in kindred gloom,
Or this right hand shall mix you with the dust
From whence you sprung!

Zal.
Unhand your trembling prey
And go in peace! proclaim your glorious deeds
Your piety and justice in the fanes
Of your great deities, with all their priests
Around!—What! has amazement ty'd your tongues?

2 Pat.
[Drawing a sword.
It has not bound our hands, as ye shall find
Audacious ruffians!

Rah.
Oh! in pity, heaven!
Prevent a scene of bloodshed, or let me
Be the first victim!—

3 Pat.
Seeming modesty!
Are these thy favour'd guards? but they full soon
Their proud temerity shall mourn.

[Zalmon and Achan each draw a concealed sword.
Zal.
Fall on!
We are not us'd to tremble at the frown
Of proud nobility!

2 Pat.
Is it even so?

[They engage: Zalmon and Achan beat them off.
Zal.
[To the Patricians going out.]
Nay more—ye violators! learn from us
(And think by us heaven thunders in your ears
The dreadful warning) that your crimes are full
And here your chastisement begins!

[Ex. Patricians.
Ach.
Tongue-valiant heroes! is it thus your hands
Maintain the mischief of your hearts? would heaven
That vice would always vindicate her cause
By such effeminate bravoes, silken sons
Of Luxury and Sloth! They roam the street
At the wild voice of Riot, and appall
With empty threat, the reptile race who chance
To crawl across their way, but shrink before
The warrior's frown, and to their covert fly,
Like timorous deer!

Zal.
To Rah.

Rah.
Nor trust in vain, for lo! benignant heaven
Has deign'd us other aid. Oh Abdon! friend. Enter ABDON and CANAANITES.

Behold and thank my saviours! sent by him
Whose piercing look pervades the deepest gloom,
And smites the ruffian's hand (uprais'd to strike)
With nameless terrors!

Abd.
To that God be praise,
God of the stranger and forlorn! To him
My orisons shall ever rise, his laws
My life shall still obey! Oh take my thanks,
Accept my heart, my life, 'tis yours, 'tis his,
Who nerv'd your arms to combat for a life
So dear to me, and dearer far than life!— To Rahab.

Her honour! In my dread for thee, I flew
To rouse those faithful friends to the defence
Of this asylum of my dearest hopes!
I met the violators in their flight,
But, oh! what signs of horror mark'd their looks,
Distinguish'd thro' the gloom! They were not worth
Revenge! we let them pass, to spread around
The panic where they flew; I thence dispatch'd
A faithful friend, to dog them at the heels,
And give the signal, lest their coward fears
Should yield at last to Reason's calmer sway,
And urge them on to try their fate again
With new confederates, and augmented rage.
Lest this should happen, thou, my love! retire,
And we, assisted by those generous friends,
(But most by that benignant power who led
Their blessed footsteps hither) shall protect
Thy life and honour both!

[Exit Rahab.
Zal.
But, who is he
Who comes with such important looks of haste!—
His eye speaks wonder; but we know not yet
Whether his coming bodes alarm or joy.

Enter ELIEZER.
Abd.
Ha—Eliezer—tell at once what cause
Brings you so soon with such unusual looks
Of terror and surprize? Are we to fly,
Or is our flight restrain'd? Thou wast not wont
To tremble with a woman's palsy thus,
At every rumour!

Eli.
'Tis no trivial cause,
Nor fear, that sent me on such breathless haste.
Let no unfounded terror slack your hands,
There is no cause of dread! The panic cloud
Which lately hover'd o'er this trembling roof,
Invades your foes, and o'er the city spreads
With the contagion of a pestilence,
That walks the streets at noon, and sweeps along
A people with their king!

Abd.
What wondrous cause
Has sent this terror in a moment round?

Eli.
The young patricians, from those doors expell'd,
And baffled in their foul attempt, by powers
Above all mortal prowess (as they deem)
Have found an ebb of insolence, and now
Fanatic frenzy, in full tide, comes in—
Her heady current sweeps away the bound
Of vanquish'd reason. Even the senate reels
('Tis said) beneath her influence, inspir'd
By those intrepid warriors; and the night
Confounding, mingling, magnifying all,
Dilates the deadly phantoms of the mind
To giant size!

Abd.
Oh! righteous Heaven! your names
(More potent than the dreadful syllables
Which call'd the cloud-born pestilence) possess
The force of armies, and unhinge the strength
Of Canaan's noblest state! Say, who are ye,
Angels or men?

Zal.
Whate'er we are, to you
We promise safety, in the awful name
Of him, who scatters armies, with a word,
Potent as whirlwinds, (whose infuriate breath
Levels the woods tall files,) if ye observe
What we direct, and gather all your friends
To this heaven-favour'd roof.

Abd.
I go—I fly.
Haste, Eliezer, help me to collect
The partners of our heart, and of our hope,
Who long have groan'd beneath the lifted scourge
Of our unfeeling lords! yes tyrants! yes
I see, I feel—your doom, at last is near—
The dreadful harvest of your crimes is ripe,
It reaches to the clouds, its root in hell,
Sown by the fiends! but soon the deadly scythe
Of Desolation comes to lay you low
In common ruin, yet I mourn your fall,
And would prevent it if I could!

[Exeunt Abdon and friends.
ACHAN—ZALMON.
Ach.
Now, Zalmon!
Why stand you thus in calm tranquillity,
As if confiding in your strength, you held
The dreadful bolt of heaven yourself?—but think
One moment, think, upon what slippery ground
We stand; our names, our phantoms rather spread
Confusion's panic thro' the streets—afar
We seem terrific shadows thro' the gloom
Of double night, that for a moment lasts,
(This mental darkness, with a starless sky
In horrour blended,) but the springing dawn
Of reason, (which a moment may produce)
A single spark, by accident or chance
Lightning the dusk, will shew us what we are
Detected to the eye of sober sense,
And to mere mortals dwindled down at last,
We that now wear the garb of gods!—what then
Remains, but by a secret embassy
To rouse the slumb'ring host, and lead them on
To take the 'vantage of the dreadful hour
And scale the walls, or force the guardless gates
Ere yet the tumult to a calm subsides
And reason re-assumes her throne?—

Zal.
Shall I
Or thou presume to mix, with daring hand
The little views of human policy
With heaven's tremendous counsels? art thou sure
That these nocturnal stratagems and thefts
Of war, will best fulfil the great designs
Of Providence? Her judgments she displays
Conspicuous in the presence of the sun
Conspicuous, as her mercies!—martial slights
And frauds, she deigns not to adopt, for man
And man's short-sighted wisdom, are forbid
Among the glories of th'Almighty's plan
To mix its earthly, and unhallow'd dregs:
The worldly warriour all advantage takes
To sate his lust of fame, or lust of gold
But we, Heaven's delegates, for nobler ends
Brandish the consecrated steel.—For heaven,
And to assert her violated laws:
Not in vain brass or monumental stone
To rank with demigods, we take the field!—
Not with accumulated plunder gain'd
From burning hamlets, and dismantled towns
To purchase from the mercenary bard
The pomp of adulation.—Nightly frauds!—
Would they not seem as if omnipotence
Wanted the aid of stratagem? would this
Become the dreadful name, or tend to aid
The glorious cause for which he clove the deep
And walk'd the troubled ooze in flames! the cause
Of virtue, of humanity, the cause
Of moral excellence, each heavenly gift,
That lifts us from the dust to tread the stars!—
Leave the result to heaven! the cause is his
And let the means be his!

Ach.
Yet you forget
That in the fervour of mistaken zeal
That errour, which in others you accuse
Becomes your own adoption!—

Zal.
Friend! you speak
In riddles—but explain.

Ach.
You justly blame
That man's presumption, who aspires to mix
His counsels with the deep, mysterious scheme
Of him, whose will determines all below;
Yet you yourself (nay hear me out my friend
With patience!) tho' in piety and zeal
For heaven, to none inferior, yet seduc'd
Even by your boasted piety, presume
Heaven's movements to constrain, to guide the hand
Omnipotent, with dictatoiral voice
Which seems to say, Those are your proper bounds;
This line and this alone, thou shalt pursue;
No star shall gaze on thy nocturnal march!
Night still must slumber on her ebon throne
And ne'er behold thy majesty, amaz'd.—
Thy glories rising with the rising sun
With him shall climb the sleep ascent of noon
And dazzle his meridian beams—is this
The genuine language of thy heart, or no?
Would'st thou prescribe to heaven? wilt thou deny
That this deep frenzy of the soul, that raves
Around those battlements, whose voice even now
We hear,—was sent by heaven, to chace away
The shadow of resistance, and to call
The slumb'ring host, with no unmeaning voice
To seize the instant moment? shall we lose
The crisis by your sloth, or causeless fear?

Zal.
Achan! you know, that heaven, not man—commands
My reverence, and my dread, I fear the taint
Of wrong, and that alone!

Ach.
I know your courage;
I know thou feel'st the honourable dread
Of leaving thy appointed post; but think
What strictest duty claims, nay what our Chief
Himself expects at this important hour!
Say! ought he not to know this sudden change
At this conjuncture, and in judgment sit
Upon the sum of things himself? To him
And not to us, the mighty privilege
Belongs, of judging what is right and fit,
Whether to take advantage of their fears
And pour on his already frighted foes
Treble confusion, or to wait the hour,
When this dread hurricane subsides, and seize
The smiling moment of fallacious calm
With unexpected rage to strike the blow
Like thunder, bursting from a cloudless sky—
Consider this—lest your too rigid sense
Of duty, turn to blame, when Joshua hears
That golden opportunities were lost
By our rash confidence, or coward fear—
For so the world will construe our delay
If we should linger here.

Zal.
But who shall go?
Shall one, or both?

Ach.
Our sudden flight would cause
New panics to the crowd, to find us now
Confronting their patrician pride, and now
Vanish'd they know not how, would make us thought
Somewhat above humanity, and rouse
Their fears to frenzy!

Zal.
But, to leave the maid
In jeopardy!

Ach.
aside.
Ha! is it so! my friend
I fear'd as much!— [To Zalmon.]
and is it here
The zeal of Zalmon points? In Abdon's guard
The maid, I think is safe!—

Zal.
And wouldst thou cast
On me the foul suspicion, that my feet
Are fetter'd by the myrtle bands of love?
That low degenerate passions quench my zeal
For Israel's glory! Tho' to go or stay
Is in my option, and my will mine own
Yet to convine you, and the world, how much
Zalmon the imputation scorns, that love
Should warp him from his duty, (love, by heaven
Unsanctioned) where the voice of glory calls
And Israel's cause, I go, and leave the field
To thee! do thou my friend, respect thyself!
And that ensures thy duty to thy God
To Israel, and thy friend!—I leave to thee
This lovely maid! revere her plighted vows,
Protect her virtues, and regard her love!
Think that her lover is our best ally
And heaven will still protect thee, as before!
I soon will come, before their fear subsides
With a selected band to rescue thee.

Exit.
ACHAN
—SOLUS.
He too suspects my love! yet leaves me here
In full possession of the lovely prize!—
What does this mean? my utmost wish is given—
And why this dread? the vital tide recoils
In hurrying tumult to my labouring heart,
As if I trode a precipice, and saw
Destruction from below! my rivals now
Are both departed, Abdon to select
His friends, and Zalmon, in a few short hours
Will shake these trembling and devoted walls
With Israel's chosen legions in his train—
Golden Occasion smiles and points the prize
Already in my reach, if I but dare
To stretch my vent'rous hand and seize the boon!
But should my pleaded passion touch her heart
And should her plighted faith dissolve away
Before the fervour of my vows, will heaven
Sanction the bold attempt? will heaven permit
Alliance with a gentile?—Yes—our God
Tho' just, is too indulgent to inspire
This fever of the blood, that fires my brain,
That burns in every nerve, and yet refuse
The remedy within my grasp! to pine
To languish thus, and not to try the means
Of cure, were low despondence! but in vain
I now deliberate—good and evil now
And right and wrong, upon a moments point
Revolve in giddy whirl, for Abdon soon
Will come, and with him comes despair and death.—
What noise is that? O lingering fool! behold!
Confusion to my hopes! my rival comes.
Already!

Enter ABDON and CANAANITES.
Abd.
Can we hope, illustrious friend!
Your pardon for our stay? but is thy friend
Our noble guardian, summon'd hence away?

Ach.
He goes
To rouse the bands of Israel; while your fears
Render resistance vain, a few short hours
Will see your boasted bulwarks hemm'd around
By Heaven's own legions!

Abd.
Should they force our gates
Say what ensues?

Ach.
The wasteful rage of fire
And undistinguished slaughter!

Abd.
Can our doom
Be yet delay'd or shunn'd—my country! oh!
Ye palaces! ye heaven-aspiring towers
Ye solemn temples, must ye fall?

Ach.
One way
And only one remains, to save the name
Of Jericho!

Abd.
Give it a name—I fly
To try—if yet within th'extremest verge
Of possibility, it lies.

Ach.
Their doom
By prompt submission to Jehovah's laws
Given without limit, may preserve your lives
And walls.

Abd.
Alas! the haughty senate still
Oppose the general wish, the giddy throng
Of young patricians overbear the vote
Of the pacific few; the priests, inspir'd
With all the bitterness of holy zeal
Oppose the popular tide; even those, who late
Shrunk from your looks with terrour, and repell'd
By you, began to propagate around
Their panics, by the holy Flamen fir'd
Resume their pride, deny their former fears
And put on looks of manhood!

Ach.
Does it seem
To them so easy, with the Syren art
Of courtly sycophants, to turn and sway
The multitude, whose fermentation seem'd
Th'immediate act of heaven?

Abd.
Incens'd by wrongs
They scorn their master's lore, and yet deride
Their menaces and prayers, the lifted scourge
And supple knee imploring!—Priestly arts
And lordly threats alike have lost their power.

Ach.
What, have the masters of the state resolv'd
Submission or defiance?

Abd.
They prepare
To seize the citadel.

Ach.
What influence
Is yours among the people?

Abd.
Till this crisis
I never made th'experiment.

1 Can.
His power
And influence are great, tho' ne'er till now
Even by himself suspected, such the force
Of inborn merit, tho' in humble life!

Ach.
Does the proud senate know his power?

1 Can.
They do,
Or soon at last, shall know.

Achan
to Abdon.
Dost thou affect
Thy country? would'st thou heal her civil wounds,
And ward the certain and tremendous blow
That threatens from abroad? Go—point their danger,
Address the Senate! ask them, if their walls
Can stand before the power, whose lifted arm
Sever'd the main sea for his people's march
And gave their feet to press the unsunn'd sands!
Go tell them how the rolling waves retir'd
Pushed from their poise by the careering winds!
Tell how old Ocean woke, and roll'd his robe
His undulating robe of azure dye
Round his gigantic limbs in haste, and fled
To shun the dread invasion. How aghast
His pale eye from the congregated clouds
Look'd down upon the moving pomp below,
Where o'er his pearly bed, thick trampling march'd
The fugitives of Memphis. In their van
No ensign wav'd, the pride of Tyrian looms
With mimic blazonry, but high above
Streaming long radiance o'er the thick-wore night
Empyreal glory led them! Tell how loud
The billowy pile, that seem'd to quench the stars
Impending hideous ruin o'er their heads
Threaten'd with ineffectual roar, withheld
With strict aereal rein by him who rides
The winds! describe, how unresolv'd, aghast
They stood, till the august orb mov'd along
Like the glad progress of the morn!—exalt
With heaven's own energy thy pompous style
To match the long majestic colonnade!
How their pale fronts the watry mirrours smooth'd
And as the lamp ethereal pass'd, return'd
With interchangeable, broad glance, from each
To each, the polish'd helms, the figur'd shields
And horrent spears, thick-twinkling as they pac'd
In measur'd march along. How Miriam's voice
Led the respondent choirs, as thus they sung
Deep charming the nocturnal march, “Ye sons
“Of Seth! be not afraid!—yon frowning pile
“Of waves, which longs its brother wave to meet
“In loud fraternal ruin, threatens death—
“But not to you!—below yon gloomy arch
“Securely tread, as if the marble gates
“Of Memphis, threw their solemn canopy
“Over your heads, nor tremble when you hear
“The thunder of Busirian cavalry
“Careering thro' the deep.—Their way is dark,
“Presumption leads them on, and she is blind!
“Not so your holy guide? hark how they plunge
“Darkling amidst the hostile brine! and now
“The noise is heard no more, for ever lost
“In that tremendous burst, and loud salute
“Of kindred waves, long sever'd; now combin'd
“That shake the regions round,” such was the scene
My father told, who pass'd the wond'rous vale
With Israel's squadrons, such were then the deeds
That scatter'd terrour thro' the nations round
And shook Arabia's hundred thrones, from Nile
To Jordan! Go! and try its full effect
On Jericho's proud King and Senate stern.—
Bid them observe the thunder as it rolls
Before the bolt descends!—

Abd.
To thee I leave
And heaven, the guard of this beloved roof
And my soul's treasure, the heaven-ransom'd maid
For heaven, when thou art present, hems thee round
With her own legions!

[Exit Abdon.
ACHAN
—SOLOS.
Go—and when those walls
See thee again, may'st thou possess thy love!
But I'll provide for thy security
And teach thee such a lesson as shall lay
Thy stormy passions, all thy hopes and fears
Thy love and, all thy anxious cares to rest.
If thou attend'st to the philosophy
By thy new masters taught! I go to find
The unsuspected means, and then, the fair
(If Zalmon come not with his prouder claim
To thwart my wishes) will reward my vows—
If he delay, the grateful King bestows
The blooming maid; as my discovery's price—
Should Zalmon come, and conquer, yet perhaps
The pious warriour's heart is free! and then—
O, transport! O felicity! he brings
The conquering troops of Judah, and for me
Scales those imperious battlements and gives
The treasure to my arms! It must be so—
I soon will visit this proud fair, and try
Whether (if Abdon were removed,) my suit
Could touch her breast, for, while he lives, he reigns
O'er her soft bosom in full sovereignty
And Zalmon may arrive, the storm of war
May thunder round our gates; her enginry
May shake our turrets, ere a moment's given
To shake her firm resolve!—dead silence reigns
Thro' every room! the place is all my own—
First, I'll secure the lover! then I'll try
If I can fill his room.
The time is fit to touch a virgin's heart
When her nice scruples, and her virgin fears
Are laid to rest, and softer thoughts begin
To spread their downy plumage o'er the mind.

Exit.

ACT III.

Scene First

—A Street in Jericho.
Officers leading two Criminals, (with their faces covered) to Execution, a crowd following.—A fire seen at a distance.
1 Offi.
Now try your spells. ye magians of the Nile!
Try your Egyptian charms! implore your Gods
To loose your chains! evoke the water nymphs
To waft their liquid treasures on the winds
From Jordan's sacred flood, to quench yon flames!
Forbid the rising zephyrs to disperse
Your ashes thro' the sky, for they will hear
That voice which wields these elements at will,
Bid the firm centre yawn, and cast abroad
Her baleful damp, to quench the rising blaze
And deaden with cold touch the vital lamp
In every bosom! ye are dumb, methinks!—
The thunder of your eloquence is mute!
The light'ning of your eyes, that sent around
Pale terrour thro' the trembling state, is gone!
Where are your factions now, that lin'd the streets
And roar'd defiance to their gracious lords
Your shouting crowd?—they follow you along
In abject silence! they who seem'd to doubt
The power of Vesta, they who scorn'd her laws,
With vile ingratitude her gifts receiv'd
Blaspheming the kind donor, learn at last
The impotence of those fallacious Gods
Who late (they hop'd) would loose their galling chains
And sweep away the majesty of state
Down the swoln tide of anarchy!

1 Can.
Great Vesta!
Are these the Hebrew spies? are these the men
From whose terrific eye the warriour fled
Amaz'd, and scatter'd thro' th'assembled state
Their panic fears?—And is it thus at last
The God of Israel vindicates his slaves?

1 Offi.
Learn thou obedience to thy country Gods;
Nor, tho' they seem to slumber, think their wrongs
Forgot! for thee, for all th'offending crew
Who lately seem'd to waver in their faith
They only claim these victims, tho' no less
Than them ye have deserv'd the penal fire!
Go home! be thankful, and adore the power
Who spares the guilty crowd, and gives them space
For penitence,—lead on!—the rising flame
Rebukes our stay! Amasa! let thy care
Disperse the crowd.

[Exit with the Captives and Guards.
2 Offi.
Ye who expect to see
Their God descend to quench the flaming pile
And snatch his servants in a humid cloud
Away,—attend the spectacle! your presence
Will shew your want of faith in Vesta's power
And by your doubts, the seniors of the state
Will judge your loyalty, but ye, whose minds
Submissive to the Gods, repose your faith
On what ye have already seen, the bonds
And sentence of those formidable men
Disperse, and bless the Gods at home.

[Exit Canaanites—one remains with the Officer.
2 Can.
By thee
Amasa! let me not be rashly deem'd
Too idly curious, if I long to know
How the strange revolution found effect
So soon? what unknown energy has turn'd
The popular tide from clamorous mutiny
To speechless fear? In social confidence
We still have liv'd! thy secret thoughts to me
And mine to thee, were manifest as light,
Since the first sacred flame of friendship glow'd
In our congenial minds, in early youth:
I know, and I approve the seniors arts
To keep the vulgar herd in tramels due
Of reverential awe to them. To this
Perhaps the seeming miracle we owe
For I have watch'd the doors of Adriel still
Since the Patricians fled; the doors are clos'd
And all is silent, those Egyptian youths
Could not without the witness of those eyes
Have 'scap'd, nor do they wish to 'scape!

2 Offi.
Art thou
An infidel to Vesta's boundless power?
Could not her potent breath condense the air
Or check the visual ray, and wrap the forms
Of these bold Israelites in tenfold night?
Could she not send from her creative womb
Th'illusive image of applauding crowds
Shouting revolt, and anarchy, to lead
Those Hebrews, in the simulated pomp
Of triumph to the snare, till in the grasp
Of sovereign power, they found their feelings pay
The forfeit of their cheated sight?—

2 Can.
To me
(Who know the arts of Priests) dost thou harangue
On demon-fraud, and spectres, sent to lead
The wildred wretch astray? come, come my friend!
This will not pass with me; the crowd, you know
Is fled, now all is safe, and silent round—
Unfold your stratagem, nor doubt my prudence
I owe the state too much to blast her views
By letting this important secret 'scape!

2 Offi.
I know thee and can trust thee: these who past
And who, by this, have felt the penal fire
Are not of Hebrew race!

Can.
Must then the pile
Of this important state, by guiltless blood
Be thus cemented, while the guilty spies
Escape?

2 Offi.
They were not guiltless, tho' their guilt
Was venial; they were Idumean slaves
The captives of the war. Necessity
Of state oft opes the door to wider wrongs,
The measure had its full effect; you find
How soon it chac'd the giddy crowd away:
Nought else could have assur'd their loyalty
One hour!

Can.
And what becomes of Abdon now
The factious demagogue? the Partizan
Of Israel? he who lately seem'd to look
Contemptuous down on Senates and on Kings
From his gigantic pitch of factious power,
Like him who rides the winds, and bids them range
O'er land and sea, at pleasure? does he feel
His cloudy throne sink from him?

2 Offi.
Yet he knows not
His loss, but (like a man, whose limbs are lopt
In battle, in the fond illusive dream
Still seems to stretch the mutilated arm
And lanch in air the visionary spear
Or bend the shadowy bow,) so he elate
With democratic pride, harangues the lords
In all the extacy of holy zeal
Nor knows what victims in the rising flames
Mock the fine music of his labour'd style
With dying groans! But let us haste and learn
With what respect the masters of the state
Receive his insolent message.

[Exeunt.
Scene—The Senate House.
King of Jericho, and Senators seated.
ELIEL PRIEST of VESTA—ABDON.
Eliel
to Abdon.
[Exit Abdon.

1 Sen.
Sedition seems
To sleep at present, or if yet awake
It dares not own its name, or seems at least
Calmly to wait his answer!

2 Sen.
Let him perish!—
Scatter his blood among the trembling crowd
The shower will lay the tempest, and assuage
Their pamper'd fury! they have neither head
Nor heart, if he be gone!

King.
Another time
Will serve for that, but, fathers, what avails
Our care at home, while with collected rage
Fermenting long, while twice four hundred moons
Have chang'd the face of night, with all the charms
Of Nile, deep freighted, and the plagues that haunt
The burning waste of Araby, the foe
Subdues the mind within, and hangs his spells
Over our trembling heads! must we renounce
The boons of Nature? drink the running stream
And live on pulse? with frozen apathy
Turn from the glance of beauty, and resign
The thrilling transport, if it costs a groan
Or transient pang, to husbands, brothers, sires?—
Must we do this, because a figur'd stone
Deep mark'd with dread and sanguinary laws
(Beyond the power of mortal to observe)
Dropt from a cloud at Sinai? Shall desire
Die in our bosoms, like the withering flower
'Cause some unfeeling demon has proclaim'd
Thou shalt not covet? If the vagrants liv'd
(As they pretend) like grashoppers, on dew
Is that a reason we should spare the flocks
And lusty droves, that roam a thousand hills
Or share them with our slaves?

2 Sen.
We must preserve
The joys for which we live, or life itself
Is scarcely worth the purchase!—Nature made us
For nobler purpose than to sit and pine
For joys beyond our reach, and feast our souls
On Virtue's visionary bliss, on joys
Beyond the tomb! the heartless multitude
('Tis true,) are taught a lesson which befits
Their station, and their views! to them their priests
Must dwell on themes of duty and of right
And bind their souls in shadowy chains at will,
Unbroken till of late. But now some foe
To our repose has sow'd sedition's seed
Among us; even the crowd pretend to see
And feel.

4 Sen.
These tumults are almost compos'd
Thanks to the terrours of the penal flame!
Their habits of allegiance soon will reach
Their old predominance!

1 Sen.
Would we could soothe
Those angry powers, that seem to rule the winds
And waves!

Eliel.
And let them rule the winds and waves!
What! must we dash the overflowing bowl
Of blessing from our lips, because some fiends
Ride the rude winds in wanton merriment
To shake the coral groves below the deep,
And bids the huge and cumbrous wave recede
Before the wild aereal cavalry?—
What if the blue stol'd nymphs of Jordan's flood
By the seductive demon of the air
With Zephyrean pipe allur'd, command
Their fickle urns at will to ebb and flow?
'Tis all Egyptian charms, collusive spells!
Between the demons of the elements
And Moses, their great archimage, contriv'd!
Or his successor! would they cause our dread,
Let them unhinge the world, misplace the poles.
Bid them unroot old Lebanon, and hurl
The hills, with all their load, thro' endless space
Crumble the centre, and dissolve the globe
To its original atoms! can their spells
Do this?
Let them produce a sample of their art
And shake old Vesta's time-establish'd throne!
Till then our faith will stand secure and firm
As Tabor or as Carmel, while the breast
Of our great mother can support the weight!

King.
Speak your opinion, fathers! is your vote
Defiance, or submission? will ye die
Free as ye liv'd, or bend the servile neck
To Pharoah's bondmen?

Senators.
We submit? we cringe
To Pharoah's bondmen! we detest the thought!
Let them dispatch their embassy! display
Their false credentials! we despise them both
While those proud rampires stand!

Enter a MESSENGER, who whispers ELIEL.
Eliel.
Be Abdon call'd.

King.
What message brings your envoy?

Eliel.
All's compos'd—
Let us to Vesta's Fane, and there return
Thanks for the great deliverance!

King.
Lead the way!

[Ex. Omn.

ACT IV.

Scene—An Hall in the House of Adriel.
Enter ACHAN.
ACHAN
Repuls'd! contemn'd! and by a Gentile maid!
And with such dignity of look and mein
As ill befits her humble birth! Oh Fate!
Oh! thou fallacious Power!—whate'er thy name
Who seem'd with ready hand to smooth my way
To transport! thou who led'st my rival hence
And left an open field to Love and me—
Whence these new obstacles? manhood, and pride
And love will tell, they're meant to stimulate
And they shall stimulate!—for oh! her charms
In our last interview, her sparkling eyes
In all their pride of scorn, have waken'd here
A conflagration!—Love and Vengeance calls
And both shall soon be satisfied! The rage
Of Faction slumbers in the streets at last—
Even panic finds a pause, the guests and slaves
Who left the house to mingle with the crowd
Impell'd by curiosity or dread
Will soon return, this moment then is mine!

[Going
Enter ZALMON.
Achan
Aside.
To him.

Zal.
The gates are all beset,
The rampires mann'd, let that apology
Suffice for me! But—or my guess is wrong
Or, if no vision of the night deceiv'd
My sight, I saw you on the point to pass
The bounds of right, and violate the hour
Of virgin privacy, now, what pretext
What artful gloss can palliate this attempt?

Ach.
And who gives thee the privilege to sit
In judgment on my deeds?

Zal.
Thou own'st it then!
That was not needed, for thy looks declare
Too plain, the purpose of thy heart,—and thou
A delegate from Israel, chosen by lot
Mark'd and distinguished by the hand of Heaven
Among those unbelievers, to display
A specimen of sanctity, of truth
And all the dignity of self-command,
To gain their veneration for the laws
Of them, whom Heaven for their forefathers worth
So highly favours!—Thou, at such a time
On such a business sent, to loose the rein
From the wild passions, to profane the flame
Of plighted love, and burst the sacred bar
Of hospitality, and social faith!—
Repent, my friend! and bless that providence
That cross'd th'unrighteous purpose!

Ach.
I deny
The charge!

Zal.
O trifle not with him, whose eye
Pervades the soul! nor aggravate thy guilt
By bold presumption!

Ach.
Who commissioned thee
(If limits are so sacred) to assume
The Levites office? Go! proud moralist!
Go to the camp of Israel, and proclaim
My guilt! But other cares possess thy soul—
—That public love which lately flam'd so high
Has spent its fury, and a gentler spark
Of lambent radiance takes its turn to reign!—
This bids you shun the wide nocturnal range
Thro' perils and thro' foes, to Joshua's camp,
And rather linger round these favourite walks
For some blest opportunity to soothe
The fair one's fears!

Zal.
'Tis well—retort the charge
And spend the precious moments (while we stand
Perhaps, on the tremendous verge of fate)
In fierce recrimination! but thy mind
Acquits me, or if not, when Zalmon's soul
Is better known, perhaps, it may deserve
Thy approbation,—no sinister views
But strong necessity forbade my flight
And sent me here—to save thee from thy self
At present thy worst foe.—Reflect on this!
And learn to know thy friend!

Ach.
Thy words I fear
Are too prophetic!—Pardon my rash tongue
And thoughtless folly!—we already stand
Upon the verge of fate—for hark—the crowd
Returns, as from the gale that hither wafts
Their mingled voices, we may learn!

Enter RAHAB, in great disorder.
Rah.
Oh my protectors! oh my gallant friends
Would Heaven! the life which you so lately sav'd
Could ransom yours! I fear you are beset
And nought your valour will avail if true
The tidings I have heard—and Abdon too
Is absent, who perhaps, could sway his friends
To save you.

Achan
Aside.
Thank my plots! by them a friend
Is lost, who now might shield us!

Zal.
Say, fair maid,
Whence thy intelligence?

Rah.
'Tis needless now
To tell!—but ere these now forsaken walls
Admit their wonted guests, if ye obey
My counsel, and to me intrust your safety,
(Which, as the precious jewel of my soul!
I'll guard, to my best power) I yet may pay
Some part of that vast debt of gratitude
Which, while remembrance lives, I still must owe.

Zal.
Our lives are in the hand of Heaven! to that
We trust! But, it were madness to reject
Thy counsel, beauteous maid! for Heaven perhaps
May to thy pure and guiltless mind, suggest
The means of safety, which, with gratitude
To thee, and to that power, who rais'd our hands
To guard thee, and inspir'd thy spotless mind
With magnanimity to pay the debt
We gladly chuse, and in thy faith confide.—
Yet still, in one essential point, thy will
Must yield to ours—we must not leave these walls—
Heaven's hand can find and guards us here—even here.—
Where we experienc'd late its signal aid—
But to forsake thee here—to leave thy life
Thy precious life, perhaps a pledge for ours—
To fly ignobly, and to gain the camp
Whilst thou, surrounded by thy foes and ours
Art doom'd to pay the forfeit,—this would blot
Our names with endless infamy, the name
Of Israel too must suffer, even the cause
Of God, the cause of virtue, public love
(For which we bear the delegated sword)
Would catch the foul contagion, and become
An object of abhorrence, meant by Heaven
For ends far different.

Achan
Aside.
Then my fears are true
(Were this a time for lesser fears) his heart
Is touch'd, as well as mine!

Rah.
This is no time
For nice punctilio—did I mean to thwart
Your generous purpose, you must wait an hour
Yet more propitious to your flight,, and deign
To take th'asylum, which those walls afford
Till Heaven permits escape. There is a place
As secret as the grave, which even the eye
Of Malice and Revenge's eagle glance
Might scrutinize in vain.

Zal.
But generous maid!
This must be stipulated first—we live
Conceal'd, whilst thou art safe—when danger threats,
Give thou the signal, and we fly to save thee
Not on ourselves presuming, but inspir'd
By confidence in him, who nerves the hands
Of infants, at his pleasure, to subdue
The warriour, clad in steel!

Rah.
What Heaven suggests
I'll do!—but you with resignation wait
The great event, and let no sudden start
Of thoughtless courage—no suggested fear
For me, entice you to forsake your post
Till first you hear the signal; all your hopes
The very crisis of your fate depends
Upon your silence! let not even your breath
Be heard, if possible.

Zal.
Whence has this maid
Such more than manly piety, such faith
And fortitude? O virgin! in thy voice
I hear and I obey the call of Heaven!
But whence this dignity of mind? this sense
Of heavenly interference far beyond
Their faith, who live within the glorious dawn
Of Heaven's illumination?

Rah.
Stay not now
To question, for the time forbids delay.

[Exeunt.
Scene Continues.
Enter ELIEZER.
Enter RAHAB.
Rah.
What mean your dreadful words?
My Abdon lost! Oh Eliezer! say
I have mistook your meaning?

Eliez.
Would to Heaven
You had!—It is a night of dire mistakes
And this had been a blest one! I could wish
That thou would'st guess my errand, without words.

Rah.
What of my Abdon?

Eliez.
Perish he, who first
To his too dauntless mind suggested late
That luckless embassy; some demon told
The jealous Peers, that he was join'd in league
With those audacious strangers, deem'd the spies
Of Israel, whose bold rescue in the face
Of open outrage, fill'd our streets with dread
And turn'd this tide of mutiny against
Our haughty rulers, they, as fame reports
At first were struck with fear, when Abdon's zeal
Display'd their danger in such dreadful forms
As made the boldest quake; but soon 'tis said
On a dark message to Eliel sent
The gallant youth was seiz'd, and waits in chains
His sentence!

Rah.
Oh unhappy youth! what crime
What charge can Malice or Revenge invent
Against him?

Eliez.
Well his innocence is known
Even to his bitterest foes, but other captives
Groan in the self-same danger!

Roh.
Who are they?
Concerns it me to know? can there be grief
Beyond what I have suffered?

Eliez.
I were cruel
To aggravate your woes! but on the verge
Of fate your safety stands, and it depends
On you perhaps, to turn the dubious scale—
Reflect on that, let that support your mind
Under a second blow!

Rah.
I stand prepar'd—
Whate'er the dreadful certainty, suspence
Is worse.

Eliez.
Thy reverend father too is join'd
In equal doom!

Rah.
And why do I remain
Exempt from bonds, when all I held most dear
Are in the grasp of fate!—

Eliez.
Thy hands, perhaps
Are by the bounteous gods at freedom left
To loose their chains, else I had never come
Th'unwelcome messenger of ill to thee—
Those strangers, who are deem'd the lurking spies
Of Joshua, yet perhaps, within the walls
Remain—for all retreat is closely barr'd,
'Tis true, they have protected thee from worse
Than death, and thou might'st seem by every tie
Of gratitude and friendship bound to aid
Their flight, but Piety's superior laws
Thy country's claims; thy faith to Abdon vow'd
Silence the claims of pity! at this hour
The scrutiny begins, and in those bounds
They cannot rest secure; but let thy zeal
Prevent the search! explore their secret haunts!
(If yet these walls contain them) and resign
Thy captives to the king, thy promptitude
And filial piety may calm their rage,
Prevent undue suspicions, which prevail
Of thy apostacy from Canaan's Gods,
And gain the captives freedom, else their lives
Perhaps may pay the forfeit! I decline
The sight of strangers—mark my last advice
And use the precious moments as becomes
The daughter and the spouse! I must begone!
For some are entering whom I must not see!

Rah.
O let thy presence aid me!

Eliez.
While I'm free
I can assist you still! I might be deem'd
Abdon's accomplice, as I'm known his friend
If I should be observ'd, adieu, adieu!

Exit.
Rah.
O dreadful turn of fate! O test severe
Of filial duty! what shall I resolve
At this tremendous moment? but no time
Is left me to resolve!—perhaps the flame
The penal flame, so lately fed with gore
Waits for another victim! Righteous Heaven
Why this sad interruption? but 'tis sent
Perhaps in mercy! for it saves my mind
From instant desperation!

[Goes apart.
Enter GUESTS, CANAANITES, Slaves of ADRIEL, &c.
1 Guest.
A dreadful inquisition is begun,
Even now, (it seems;) by order of the state
For other spies, suspected from the camp
Of Israel, and perhaps, those walls may feel
The scrutiny!

2 Guest.
The search is now afoot!

1 Can.
Thou tell'st the fact, as if it nought concern'd
The inmates of this house; but thou, and I,
And all, have cause to tremble at the tale.

2 Guest.
Are we concern'd? are we of Israel's stock
Or Canaan's? does the mark of treason glow
Upon this front? if strangers suffer here
Rude violation, then adieu to all
Your commerce and your hospitable fame
From Nile to Ganges spread!

1 Can.
Hear and reflect!
The danger is but transient, yet the wise
Seek the next shelter even when summer brews
The short-liv'd hurricane; a few dark hours
Are past, since here those fugitives or spies
(Whate'er they were,) reign'd paramount, and chac'd
The proud patricians, (sons of violence)
In terrour from their meditated prey—
Hither, be sure, this dreadful scrutiny
Led by the Flamens, and vindictive Peers
Will soon arrive, and who will stand the brunt
Of this dire inquest? say will you, or you
Natives or strangers? nought will then avail
The protestations of our innocence,
And zeal for Canaan's Gods! we will be deem'd
Part of the factious crowd, the partizans
Of Israel and abettors of the flight
Of those suspected spies.—If none are found—
What tortures then will be our doom; what pangs
To force confession of our fancied guilt?—
Safer for us to tread the rocking soil,
When minerals boil below, than dare the storm
Whose gathering gloom already darkens round
This destin'd spot! but if my counsel weighs
With any, let us leave this dangerous ground—
—Strangers and natives, Canaanites and guests
All share one general peril!—Adriel's head
Will pay the bloody forfeit for the spot—
—A deadly spot, accurst by all the Gods,
On which his habitation rests! the search
Will instantly begin, and can we stand
Thus lingering?—are you bent to meet the rage
Of arbitrary power and priestly zeal?
Are you ambitious on yon flaming pile
To mark again the watches of the night
With dying shrieks for Moloch?—will ye stay
And perish, or escape and shun the doom?

2 Can.
We take your counsel, brother!

1 Can.
What say ye
Ye strangers; will ye share your fate with us—
Ye will be deem'd associates with the spies
And may expect a more relentless doom
If here you stay!

1 Guest.
'Twere madness to neglect
Your sage advice, we go,—conduct the way.

Ex. Omnes.

ACT V.

Scene Continues.
RAHAB
—ALONE.
And am I left alone to face the storm
Of priestly rancour, and of kingly rage?
Shall I pursue their flight! and leave my guests
To certain death? my guests, whose confidence
In me have kept them here! my guests whose lives
For me, were first expos'd? By generous care
Of me, those gallant strangers have become
Obnoxious to the state! they might have 'scap'd
All observation, and have pass'd the gates
Unnotic'd as the vulgar herd, that crowd
This mansion daily, had they brook'd the sight
Of violation, with unkindling hearts,
And unavenging hands; and they must die,—
And I must be their murderess!—so the fates
And cruel duty bid, yes—I must be
A traitress, or a parricide!—Oh Heavens
How shall I bear the thought! a bleeding father
A mangled lover; and shall I—shall I
Endure such weight of horror and preserve
My intellects!—But let me pause awhile
And at the stillness of this solemn hour
When not a friend is near, with mental beam
To guide my fault'ring feet, let me address
My fervent sorrows to the fount of light
To dispossess the darkness of the soul
And shew me what is best; to him the day
And darkness are alike, the mental eye
Contemplates him, when outward things are hid
Behind the deep nocturnal veil! A guide
Like him, altho' he points a painful path
Must lead me right—O thou great origin
Of rectitude and truth, do thou preside
O'er my deliberations, whilst I weigh
Duty with duty in th'unbyast scale!
Be still ye stormy passions! leave my soul
Blest with that sacred calm, where Reason's light
And favouring conscience, with unruffled beam
Enlightens, like twin stars, the tranquil mind!
While I pursue the solemn scrutiny
With all my mental powers, as best becomes
One, early nurtur'd on the sacred lore
Of truth! Oh that my old and reverend guide
Were present now!—but he to all effect
Is ever present, while his precepts live
Within this bosom! Let me then suppose
His exhortation in this strain to run:
“Those towers are doom'd to ruin, and the state
“To swift perdition, like the flaming walls
“Of old Gomorrah; of this awful truth
“Thy heart is well convinc'd—the Hebrew spies
“(By their commander sent to mark how far
“Destruction's line must range,) amid the storm
“Of faction, and Patrician rage, enforc'd
“With priestly vengeance, yet have brav'd the blast
“And still must brave the malice of their foes
“(Their foes with hell combin'd) for all their hairs
“Are numbered!—and would'st thou, defying Heaven
“Desponding in her aid, to human threats
“Or all the rancour of the fiends, betray
“Thy sacred trust? What tho' thy sire is bound
“And Abdon; thy mistaken piety
“Might fail to free them,—should thy female fears
“Resign the great deposit, art thou sure
“Thy resignation would redeem their blood?
“And wilt thou, to secure a dubious good
“Risque an undoubted crime? suppose it true
“(As yet 'tis doubtful) that thy friends are held
“In durance, does it follow they must fall
“Unrespited and unrepriev'd? some time
“At worst will be allow'd, and Israel's host
“May interpose to save them if the spies
“Escape to expedite their march.—Already
“As if secure of conquest, have they told
“The means, to save thy few remaining friends
“Amid the general ruin, when the sons
“Of Jacob with commission'd sword and flame
“Purge the pollutions of the land!—this roof
“Must then be their asylum, as the ark
“Of Noah, sacred, and secure from harm,
“When nought but desolation reigns abroad
“In solitary pomp, with horrour crown'd.—
“Then like that sacred Germ of nations sav'd
“From the great world of waters, dark and deep,
“These walls, the refuge of the righteous few
“Shall be the cradle of the nascent state,
“From piety deriving manners pure
“Their love of God, express'd by love of man.”
Shall I the pupil of ignoble Fear
Renounce this elevated hope? Shall I
Renounce the glorious privilege, to hear
My name among the godlike train enroll'd
Restorers of the nations?—shall I plunge
Myself, and the sad remnant of my friends
My father, and my lover too, as seems
Most like, by these prophetic strangers words,
In general ruin, from my faith's first vows
Led by a fleeting shade of hope?—perhaps
(And surely, Heaven suggests the glowing thought
For it expands my soul) this tryal comes
Like that to Israel's parent, when the voice
Of Heaven demanded his beloved son!
A victim on his altars, soon his faith
His piety, his resignation met
An heavenly meed; and I, inferior far
May also save a parent and a spouse
Without the odious taint of perfidy.
When every human hope expires, that hand
Which with aereal bridle held the wave
From its long menac'd fall, can shake those tow'rs
And whelm their impious fanes upon the heads
Of their blind worshippers!—But oh! my heart
Recoils—down, down the lofty fabric falls
Built by presumptuous hope! my reverend sire
My Abdon! must I risque your precious lives
On such precarious venture Oh! thou Power
That rul'st the world within, compose my thoughts!
Teach me the heavenly art to reconcile
My warring duties! But I hear th'approach
Of trampling feet: prepare thee O my soul
For this great tryal! and thou God unknown
(Whate'er thy name) thou judge of right and wrong
Whom from my infant years I worshipp'd still
With purest zeal! Oh deign this gracious sign
To point my duty, and thy will to show
Whether thou meanest thy servants should escape
Or sigh the slow revolving hours away
In cruel bondage! when the guards arrive,
With seeming boldness I shall dare the search
And shew no sign of dread, if they, deceiv'd
By the tranquillity that marks my look,
Retire, without a scrutiny, O then
To thy protection, Israel's God! to thee
Who sav'd young Joseph; and the infant son
Of Amram from the bloodhounds of the Nile
I leave the precious pair in charge, assur'd
That what thou will'st is best—if they persist,
In their inhuman purpose, and explore
With curious eye, each dark recess, my heart
(Tho' with reluctance) to their doom resign'd
Will deem that thy eternal wisdom means
By other hands to save the chosen pair
And then, in calm expectance shall I rest
Of some new revelation of thy will!—
But I can never, never, bring my voice
To form those hateful and perfidious sounds
Which give my benefactors up to fate—
And ere my trembling hand has power to point
Their dark asylum out—may palsies blast
Its future motion!—now I am resolv'd—
Ye demons! send your ministers of wrath!
Assemble all your terrours, try your wiles!
I feel that heaven-sent energy within
That baffles all your stratagems, and here
The contest opens, but th'event is Heav'ns!

Retires.
Enter GUARDS.
1 Gua.
Ha, this is wonderful! where are the crowds
Who fill'd those rooms with barb'rous harmony
Hymning the bounteous mother of the tribes
Of life and vegetation? all is dark
Silent and lonely! not a voice is heard
Nor face appears! either the Hebrew spies
Have chosen a lucky moment to escape
Or some new wonder by their God display'd
In their protection, has expell'd their foes.

2 Gua.
Enter RAHAB.

Rah.
Oh may it not affect the precious lives
For which I will implore the King, the state,
That they are now beyond your reach and mine!

1 Gua.
How did they 'scape?

Rah.
Let not the censure fall
On me, if female terrour tied my tongue
From giving the alarm, when even our guests
And slaves (as you behold) are fled!

1 Gua.
But tell
Did they, confiding in your fears, depart
In bold defiance of opposing powers
In public, unmolested?

Rah
What I know
My duty bids me tell! I did not see
Their flight, I was not station'd here their guard;
But is it probable, that strangers, guests
That menials, void of manhood, as of worth
Could stand the terrour of their deadly looks
When warriours fled amaz'd! But oh my father
My Abdon! where are they, what dungeon's gloom
Contains them? can you tell, what sentence waits
Their guiltless heads?

2 Gua.
Unless the spies are found
(With whom thy friends are held accomplices)
I would not have their fears for all the wealth
From Ganges to the Nile!

1 Gua.
Hard of belief
By nature, I am apt to doubt report—
How could they pass our loftiness of wall
Which but the winged vagrants of the sky
Nought can surmount? did that aereal siend
(Whom as 'tis said, they serve) with some new spells
Fledge them with pinions to ascend the clouds
And mock our vengeance, or conduct them down
A subterranean pass, like eyeless moles?
The bounteous mother would not see profan'd
The awful boundaries of her unsunn'd realms
By visitors so hated: hence, I deem
They still are here conceal'd!

Rah.
Pursue your search!—
If aught you find to taint my innocence
Let me be doom'd with Abdon [aside] their design
Is to enforce discovery, by these threats,—
Not meant to be accomplished; and kind heaven
At last will save my friends—

2 Gua.
to the first.
Her confidence
And unembarrass'd air amaze my soul!
The spies are 'scap'd—or soon her piety
Her love of Abdon, and her female fears
Had mark'd the secret, were they here conceal'd.

1 Gua.
Yet were they gone, her fears for Abdon's life
And for her aged sire, had shown their power
By stronger symptoms!—

2 Gua.
to Rah.
Young dissembler! say
What mean you thus to dally with the fate
Of all that's dear, at such a time as this?

1 Gua.
This is no time to trifle; our return
Ere this is look'd for; wilt thou lead the way
And shew the dark recesses of thy house?—
(They may be here conceal'd unknown to thee)
Let us complete the search?

Rah.
It suits not me
A virgin and alone, at this dark hour
To take a part in such a scene, but go—
No bolt nor bar prevents you! every door
Is open, as you see!

3 Gua.
An easier call
(If here they lurk) may bring them to our lure,
And save our time and toil?

2 Gua.
What dost thou mean?

3 Gua.
You know how fierce their Hebrew spirits flam'd
Contemning all disguise, when late the Lords
Meant to have borne this lovely prize away!—
She too is charg'd with treason to the state
And to the Gods: if we should bear her hence
The slightest shew of violence to her
Her struggles and her cries, (if she resist)
Would have th'effect of lightning, and soon rouse
The lions from their dens.

1 Gua.
This is no time
For such experiments!

3 Gua.
I serve the state,
And scruple not to use whatever means
Can to her service best conduce!

[Seizes Rahab.
Rah.
Ye powers
Of Heaven! look down and succour, since no friend
On earth is left me.

[Thunder and lightning—the guards stand aghast.
1 Gua.
Oh Ashtaroth! what may these terrours mean?

Rah.
Thanks to th'eternal powers, which, twice this night
Have listn'd to a trembling virgin's prayer.

1 Gua.
to third
I knew your violence would wake the wrath
Of some offended God—pursue the search!
Tho' that I fear is vain!—

2 Gua.
Pursue the search!
Bid me to meet the anger of our lords!
They are but men, and bounded in their power
But to defy the lifted bolt of Heaven
To rush on sure destruction, is above
My daring!

4 Gua.
What if now the sulph'rous stores
Of Heaven are opening, and our doom begun,
Like ancient Sodom?

5 Gua.
Whether here or hence
Those terrible divinities, who sav'd
Their lives, so oft in jeopardy this night,
Protects them still!

Rah.
aside.
Oh heavenly truth! compell'd
From impious lips! even the profane confess
The hand of Heaven!

1 Gua.
Then what detains us here
When our destruction, like a whirlwind, soon
May overwhelm us! let us hence and tell
Our success to the state!

2 Gua.
If they should doubt
Our truth, let these undaunted lords who know
The spot, who lately show'd their prowess here,
Let them, who know the persons of the spies,
And from a legion, by their guilty looks
Could easily select them—let them come,
And try their fate on this distinguish'd field.
I war not with the fates, remain who will!

[Exit Guards.
Rah.
Author of Nature! thou hast heard my prayers,
Thy answer came in thunder—but to me
More welcome than the shepherd's pipe at morn!
I pray'd, that if you meant your servants 'scape,
These ruffians, eager in the scent of blood,
Who snuff the coming slaughter like the breeze
From Sharon's vale, should faulter in the chace,
Thou spok'st the word, they trembled and they paus'd!—
—So ought not I to pause, the thunder's voice [Thunder again.

Again, and louder, warns me hence to aid
The Hebrews' flight, while terrour chains their foes.

[Exit, and returns with Zalmon and Achan.
Rah.
Your trust in heaven is not in vain, behold
Its terrours march before you, and prepare
Your way! Deliverance comes in lightning clad,
And arm'd with thunder, where it leads, pursue
With boldness! I have seen the guards retire
Aghast, before the winged flame that sweeps
Yon battlements which overlook the roof
And every pass command! the midnight storm
Has left an awful solitude around.—
Where on the city walls our rafters lean
There is a window unobserv'd, but full
In view, if any watch'd; thro' this a cord
Provided by my care, shall bear your weight
Safe down the dizzy height, till on the ground
You fix your feet, then speed you to the plain.

Ach.
But you are still in danger!

Rah.
Let no thought
Of me, delay your flight—the guards but now
Were here, intent to search with rigid care
Where'er suspicion pointed, but the voice
Of Heaven no sooner thunder'd in their ears,
Than all aghast they fled. No doubt remains
But long ere this the panic has begun
To seize their Lords, and each vindictive thought
Is swallowed up in fear, they have no time
At this dread crisis to enquire of me
Or punish misdemeanours; on your faith
And not on them, my future hope depends
And on your God!—They are below my dread.

Zal.
And God so deal with us as we preserve
This house of refuge!—this asylum pure!
And all, who share your blood, or by the ties
Of nobler friendship join'd, (the ties of soul)
Claim your protection—Now adieu! may Heaven
Continue still to guard you, and display
The merits of thy boundless trust in Him
Which draws the wonder of applauding saints
Even thro' this midnight gloom! it soon shall vye
With the meridian splendours of the sun
A bright example to the nations round!

[Ex. Spies.
Enter ELIEZER.
Rah.
They are escap'd, and all is safe!
But what again brings Eliezer here
So soon, and with such signs of deep despair
Stampt on his visage! Oh, I fear the worst!

Eliez.
Aside.
My mercies must be cruelties! To find
Her guilt, or innocence, I must at once
Divulge the fatal news.

Rah.
What hopes, my friend,
Of Abdon's pardon or escape?

Eliez.
Thy sire
And Abdon soon will 'scape, and soon defy
The proud Patricians utmost rage!

Rah.
I like
Thy message, better than thy looks!

Eliez.
My looks
Bely not my intent! Thy Hebrew spies
Are 'scap'd, however, if their happy flight
Can recompense the loss!

Rah.
Of what! oh speak!

Eliez.
I have no heart to tell thee! thou wilt know
Too soon! Conceal thee quickly. Vengeance calls
Upon thy name, and brands thee with the stain
Of parricide. I would not have thy blood!
And must not here be found.

[Exit.
Rah.
And let them come, I will not once attempt
To hide me from their rage! A parricide!
Adriel! it cannot be! and Abdon too,
Fall'n in the cause of Israel, fall'n to save
These spies' devoted heads! and I to screen
My country's foes! and let a father's hairs
His few grey hairs, sink to the grave in blood!
Is this the way that heaven rewards its friends
In Israel's cause! itself the cause of heaven!
No matter! soon a teacher will arrive
Whose bloody steel will cut the gordian knot
Of those dark topics, and I'll rest in peace.—
Make haste, ye ruffians, seize the parricide!
I would not live had I a thousand worlds
Giv'n me to live beneath the horrid sense
Of such an imputation! Ought I not
(If I must die) to try if yet my blood
Can save my sire's? the blow may not be given.
It cannot be! I go, I fly to save him,
And crown my fall with glory! But again [Thunder.

The awful noise of heaven is heard—again
Its lightning darts around—oh no, this blaze
Of glory comes not from contending clouds!—
What heavenly visitant is this! O spare,
Spare me if I have sinn'd! ANGEL.

Be not dismay'd!
Thou more than conqueress in the cause of truth!
Know thine own merit and the just applause
Thy faith, thy conflicts, and thy strength of mind
(The glorious harvest from the heavenly seeds
So early sown) have won; they are the themes
Of more than mortal minstrelsie;

Rah.
O thou
The messenger of other worlds, that tellest
Of things beyond the stars! hast thou beheld
The secrets of the dungeon? Hast thou heard
A father's murder, calling for revenge
Against an impious daughter?

Angel.
Check thy tears,
And tell thy anxious heart thy father lives!
He lives in bonds, but soon a viewless hand
Shall shake his prison walls without a blast
To ruin, and the reverend captive free.—
Thy Abdon martyr'd in the glorious cause
Has seal'd his testimony with his blood.
This was conceal'd from thee! Thy love, perhaps,
Had led thee to have shar'd his fate, thy zeal
Could not have sav'd him, tho' it sunk thyself
In ruin! But be comforted, he lives
Who can supply his loss—an Hebrew chief,
Matchless in worth, and terrible in war,
Soon shall awake the deep-mouth'd storm that lays
These rampires low! his kind protecting hand
Shall guard thee thro' the hurricane, and raise
Thy humble fortunes from their lowly state
To match with kings, a name above all kings
Shall grace thy lineage and extend his sway
O'er nations yet unborn, and climes unknown.