University of Virginia Library

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.