University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

[Scene I.]

Scene.—Another part of the Camp near the Tabernacle.
Enter PHANUEL.
Phanuel
Oh that I were some God, to form anew
Those sons of earth, and in their lifeless frames
Some spirit to infuse! those new come guards
That sled before the feeble sons of Ai
Fled, tho' they thought that some supernal power
Marshall'd their troops to battle, now refuse
To leave their post, tho' mild persuasion sooth'd
Their souls, and more persuasive gold allur'd!—
What recent charm has fix'd the cowards feet
So nimble in the flight, but now, when fast
They fled before Perizzim's scythed cars!—
It cannot be religious dread, for that:
Had fixt their phalanx, firmer than the walls
Of Jericho against the tide of war:
Whate'er it be, I leave them to their fate
Till earth to earth they grow, or turn'd to stone
Stand like the monumental matron, chang'd
To rock, by sad Gomorrah's fumy lake
As fable tells! Altho' in distant hints
Of dubious import I explor'd their souls
(To keep from danger clear, lest any dar'd
Accuse me) still, I found them cold, quite cold!—
Be they accurst! but Achan must be steel'd
To suit my purpose, lest he also swerve,
Yet I have nearly from his bosom chac'd
The pious leaven, from his nurse imbib'd
And by the crafty Levite fed.—He now
Is the sole anchor of my sinking hopes
By love and strong ambition sway'd by turns
He plies with easy bend to either breeze—
Yet he and Zalmon are alike my foes
Hated alike, alike they thwart my views
Zalmon may fall in fight! if he returns
Achan and he are seeming friends. But soon
The brittle bond of amity shall melt
Before Suspicion's breath! that task be mine—
But see the lover comes! what says my friend?

Phan.
to Ach.
Hast thou prevail'd?

Ach.
I durst not press my suit,
But with due caution, and with solemn oaths
Enjoining secrecy: some to my views
Gave prompt admittance, some are doubtful still—
The bond of blood among their families
Gave easy entrance, but I dreaded yet
To try their Chief, altho' by blood ally'd
He's a fanatic, full of holy zeal!—

Phan.
We can subsist without him, could we gain
But half his band to second our attempt
And bear your double treasure, where the name
Of Israel ne'er was heard!

Ach.
This day's defeat
Would fix a party ours, nor need we doubt
But flush'd with victory, the Canaanite
Will follow his first blow, and heap the field
With larger slaughter, Zalmon too may fall!—

Phan.
If not, I have a charm for this hot youth
That soon will come like winter's frory breath
And lay his blooming honours low: But see
Where young Amaziah comes with looks of dread.

Ach.
O my presaging soul! my friends are fall'n!

SCENE II.

AMAZIAH, PHANUEL, ACHAN,
Ama.
Too true thy sad conjecture! I alone
Survive to bring the news! of all thy band
Not one is left besides! the hand of heaven
Or chance, or fate, with cruel scrutiny
Call'd them from every rank! they fell the first
Then oh! what slaughter follow'd!

Ach.
How didst thou
Thyself escape?

Ama.
I bear my death along!—
One of gigantic bulk, unseen before
In all Perizzim's armies, fell'd our van
With oft repeated blows, and rushing in
With gory lance, like some commission'd fiend
Twice twelve, the boldest of thy friends dispatch'd
To other worlds, I would have shunn'd the pest
And wheel'd amid the scattering war in vain—
He reach'd me, and his flying spear transfixt
My shoulder as thou seest, “yet live,” he cry'd
“Live till thou findst thy friends disperst, and tell
“What thou hast seen,” whate'er his words might mean
My message is deliver'd, and the load
Of life I here resign!—

[Dies.
Ach.
Where will this fearful judgment stop at last?

Phan.
Again this aguish sit! come! be a man
Why stand you thus amaz'd? now is the time
Or never, to impell the tardy fates,
And bid them favour thee, or dash thy hopes
For ever! Fortune sends a second chance
To shake the faith of yon desponding train
That guard the quarter where the lovely maid
Resides: This double overthrow will turn
The scale for us!—our tongue-ty'd eloquence
May now speak boldly, and before the sun
Bid them consult their safety, quit the camp
The Heaven-detested camp, and seek by flight
Their safety, ere the thunderbolt descends,
Already forg'd in yonder sanguine gloom
That frowns above!—

Ach.
Would Heaven! before those lips
Were clos'd I had enquir'd if Zalmon lives.—

Phan.
No matter, if he lives, he lives to us
His life, or death, are equal to our views!
Let us retire!—I see a hated foe
Approach! and see the General! his rent robes
And reverend locks besprent with dust, declare
The conflict of his soul!

[Exeunt

SCENE IV.

JOSHUA, PHINEAS,
Josh.
'Tis all in vain—the spirit of revolt
Is spread so wide, our efforts to subdue
The monster, but inflames its deadly rage
The more! Oh!—had it pleas'd our gracious Lord
Yet e'er I past yon self-dividing flood
To call me hence!

Phin.
Think what the mighty son
Of Amram suffer'd by their senseless broils
Before he reach'd our borders!

Josh.
Amram's son?
Oh my beloved master! lost, alas
To me and Israel, soft, persuasive, mild
Thou, only thou couldst bid the storm subside!
Thy word like oil, could lay the turbid wave!
But thou wastnever hemm'd, (as I am now)
By hostile nations, and domestic rage
At once!

Phin.
Say, does this poor, desponding plaint
Become the soldier of his God? the King
Of yonder hostile walls, who bends before
The shrine of Baalim, to a chizeled stone
(By each imperial lust, in turn enchain'd)
Could tell, that stern Adversity's dark hour
Distinguishes the man, from him that wears
Only the semblance! yet the spreading plague
Is partial only!

Josh.
In our chosen bands
It rages uncontroll'd, ev'n Judah's sons
Forget their sovereign hopes!

Phin.
To question Heaven
And his mysterious ways, becomes us not.—

Josh.
True, generous Levite! thy example shews
That action, not complaint, at such an hour
As this, becomes the man whose fervent zeal
Flames in the cause of Heaven! Let but thy word
Sanction our daring, and we draw the sword,
Lay waste yon seminary of revolt
And hew away yon gangren'd limb, which spreads
Infection to our vitals!

Phin.
Let it spread!—
The moment calls not for the sword, nor lance
The rampart, nor the palisaded mound
To fence our threat'ned lives! but holy calm
And resignation to whate'er the will
Of heaven awards!

Josh.
And shall we idly stand
And see our foes o'erwhelm us?

Phin.
Heaven best knows
How to protect his own, whome'er he dooms
To join the general ruin!—leave to heaven
The method and the means! the loudest wind
That shakes proud Lebanon, and bids his groves
Bow their aerial heads, and kiss the soil
Tho' seemingly without a rein it scours
The fields of Æther, and by sea and land
Ravages uncontroll'd, yet knows its bounds!—

Josh.
And am not I the minister of Heaven
And can I dread discomsiture? I go—
I cannot tamely bear to wield a sword
And see those rebels to their God, at large
Revel unchastis'd!—

Phin.
Go!—but if you do
You perish in your rashness!—yet be calm!—
Perhaps a few short moments may produce
The crisis; then if heaven commands thine arm
To lift the sure-destroying sword! obey!—
If not—presume not thou to snatch the rod
And balance from his hand, who best can turn
The course of things to punish or reward
As he decrees: our weapons now are prayers
To Heaven preferr'd, with unpolluted hands!

Josh.
Thy pardon, reverend Phineas! thou and Heaven
Forgive my rash and hasty zeal!

Phin.
May Heaven
Forgive thee, and prepare thee yet to bear
New insults still with calmness! let thy blood
Preserve its temper'd pulse, thine eye forget
To flame resentment, when thou seest the foe
Even in this holy ground, invade our right
And claim the execution of our laws
From you, from us, the delegates of Heaven!
Even at those sacred doors—The contest then
(Remember this)—is Heaven's, and Heaven's alone!
—The wonted sacrifice our presence calls
Dread not the insulting Gentiles! nearer cares
Claim our attention now, to guard at home.—

[Exeunt.
Re-enter ACHAN and PHANUEL.
Phan.
The General and the Priest are gone at last!—
Methought the veteran seem'd to menace high
But crafty Phineas sooth'd him!—This portends
Bright hopes to us, the factious spirit spreads
Beyond our utmost hopes, my friend!—couldst thou
Have thought, our cautious arts, essay'd with fear
So soon would spring to such a noble head
As makes the delegate of Moses fear
And to the tabernacles holy fence
Retire for safety? But to other thoughts
The crisis calls us!—the suspended war
Sleeps, till the cause of our defeat be found!—
Zalmon returns, and to the charge succeeds
Perhaps, of those prepared bands, which thou
Hadst led to different triumphs—but for him
We have provided!—

Achan.
[Seemingly disturbed.]
In another spot
Than this, I rather would complete my schemes!

Phan.
Falter not now! but think, the bounds are past,
And it is much too late to dream of flight!—
Steel thy weak spirit! think of Zalmon's fate
And thine, this moment is the balance weigh'd!—
—To-morrow, if thou fail'st to-night, arrives
With tardy disappointment in its train
Perhaps detection. Think, thy secret now
Rests in too many hands, to be conceal'd
Much longer! think of love, of Zidon think
Of empire and of glory!—spread around
The fault on others, if thou meanst thyself
To 'scape!—the shrine discloses! haste and pay
Thy adorations, nor neglect the time
Thine own petitions to prefer—adieu!
I must not here be seen, a proselyte
Claims not admittance to your holy rites
Till the due season!

[Exit. Achan.
Phan.
Now is my time, let me escape away
And shun the tempest, gathering at my heels!—

Scene opens, and discovers the outer Court of the Tabernacle.
JOSHUA, ACHAN, crowd of ISRAELITES at Prayer.
Achan
aside.
To them PHINEAS.

Josh.
Is there aught
Committed, or neglected, to incense
Our sovereign ruler?

Phin.
That is only known
To Israel's God, but yonder fields of Ai
Drench'd by the noblest blood of Jacob, tell
Too plain, his kindled wrath!

Josh.
Is there no means
To deprecate his rage?

Phin.
Contagion lurks
Somewhere among us, or our prayers were heard,
But in this vast assembly, is there one
Whose eye sagacious, or whose guiding hand
Can teach us how to trace the lurking pest
And drag it into day? On him we call
Let him stand boldly forth and save the tribes
From the infliction of another blow
More dreadful than the past.—

Achan.
[Aside.]
Be firm, my soul!

Phin.
Nay, if the guilty man be here, I dare
Pronounce in Heaven's dread name, his pardon seal'd
If by confession he atones his crimes.

Achan
aside.
Vengeance and Love assist me! or I'm lost
—Ye soul-subduing powers of eloquence
My flattering organs aid! To them.

Behold the man
Who, unpresuming on the sacred gift
Of prophecy or prescience, but impell'd
By public love alone, with suppliant voice
Prays your indulgence, while his lips disclose
Things he can prove, and to your wisdom leaves
The just conclusion thence to be inferr'd!

Phin.
Speak out, and boldly!

Josh.
Thou hast nought to fear
I know thee sage and noble! Achan's name
Forbids us to expect a futile charge
Or feebly grounded!

Ach.
Joshua! thy support
Is kind, and comes in season, for my voice
(Never till now in such unwelcome task
Employ'd) must publish names—ah much endear'd
To me, to all, by deeds of genuine worth,
And more, by lineal honours!—Would to Heaven
Beneath yon fatal rampires my pale corse
Had fall'n, before to my sad lot it fell
To trumpet forth a friend's disgrace, before
This presence, but your late tremendous charge
And this august assembly conjure down
All selfish passions, every partial thought,
(Tho' for my friend), and I am Israel's all!—
Avaunt! ye private sympathies! ye charms
Ye social ties of single soul to soul!—
Avaunt! there is no pulse in this sad frame
But for the public beats.

Josh.
He speaks, as Heaven
Had now inspir'd him! Phineas! now, at last,
Expect an answer to your prayers! O now
No more the haughty Canaanite shall line
The pass, and intercept with double death
Our sinking legions!

Phin.
Yet suppress thy zeal!—
See his lips labour, and his frame, convuls'd
Beneath the deadly secret seem to sink!—
I fear some much belov'd, much honour'd name
Will pass those lips, and some great chieftain's doom
Will send the loud lament along your lines
In oft repeated sorrow!

Ach.
Thou hast guess'd
O reverend Priest! aright! but be no blame
To his accuser! would my lips were clos'd
In Death's eternal trance, e'er I were forc'd
To name the name of Zalmon, but in terms
Due to my friendship, and his matchless worth
For matchless worth is his! But oh! I fear
His partial passion for a lovely maid
Among our captives, whom his thoughtless love
Designs to wed, and mix his sacred line
With Gentiles, and with slaves, draws down this plague.

Phin.
Before this tribunal none is condemn'd
Unheard, let Zalmon strait be call'd, and thou
Achan! prepare thee to support thy charge
With clearest circumstance, before the face
Of Israel and her God, assembled here!

Josh.
Go, heralds! and assemble here in haste
By sound of trump the universal name
Of Israel by their tribes and families
To tend this awful trial and to learn
By terrible example how to keep
With stricter care, their theocratic law!

Phin.
Woe to the guilty, for behold! above,
The clouds, in gloomy files, around the point
Of noon, diverge, and yonder deep serene
Shews the descending pomp of them, who tend
The sovereign lamp of truth! her piercing beam
Shall soon dispel the dim Tartarean fogs
Of falsehood from the mind! her holy dawn.
Shall lay the secret regions of the soul
In empyrean lights unwelcome day!
Touch'd by that beam, the lurking pest, tho' now
It 'scape the keenest sight, shall soon disclose
Its horrible dimensions!—Sound the trump!—
Raise the broad ensign of Jehovah high!
Let every soul appear, who draws his life
From Jacob's hallowed stem, for all must pass
In long review before the judging eye
And clear their innocence, or shew the cause
Why Israel's sons, whom nature's subject powers
Obey, are baffled by their Gentile foes!

[Exeunt, Phineas and Joshua go into the Temple.
Scene.—Another part of the Camp.
Zal.
And can this visitation point at me?
My love, unsanction'd by the seal of Heaven
Perhaps, has laid the pride of Israel low!—
I love thee, Rahab! in this faithful breast
Thy matchless form, thy matchless merit stamps
Thy image, never by the hand of Time
Or Fortune, to be spoil'd! Thy chosen youth
Thy Abdon, thou beheld'st to death devote,
And hadst the power to change our blood for his!—
But oh! thy nobleness of mind, thy faith
In Heaven, disdain'd the purchase of his life
By persidy, by breach of sacred trust—
Our lives were in thy hands! upon thy word
Our breath depended! thou! unequall'd maid!
Couldst have redeem'd a husband and a sire
By giving us to Fate!—thy nuptial hand
Would dignify the most ennobled name
Among our most distinguished tribes—and I—
Shall I resign the treasure?—who besides
Can urge a claim so powerful? To secure
The blessing mine, from Judah's regal tribe
(To whom the sceptre is by promise given)
I draw my lineal blood, and justly claim
Her eldest honours.—Let me muse a while!—
Is there no other duty to oppose
The calls of Passion?—yes—these very ties
Of blood—and all the honours of my race
All! all united, urge their general plea
And tell me that I live not to myself
But to my country, to my lineal claims
And to the honours of my regal stem!
High are the promises to Judah given
Of mystic import: from his root shall rise
A name by prophets, and by priest proclaim'd
The first on earth, the favour'd of the skies!
Perhaps to spring from me!—and shall I take
An alien to my bed? tho' eminent
In beauty, and with mental charms endow'd
Above the daughters of our tribes?—perhaps
Heaven favours not this union! Heaven forbid!
That I should match against thy sovereign will!
That my example should encourage more
To cull their spouses from the race accurst
Whom Heaven pursues with vengeance! tho' this maid
Be faultless, and beholds her people's crimes
With just abhorrence, others less reserv'd
Who chuse their loves, at random, by the look
Allur'd, might think their impious choice, by mine
Amply excus'd; and 'mongst our martial tribes
Disseminate the vile contagion round
Of idol worship, and her odious train
Of vile pollutions from their spouses learn'd—
—Israel might mourn, for many a luckless day
The bane of my alliance! this deserves
My serious thoughts: the general interdict
Forbade our tribes to touch the spoils accurst
Of conquer'd Jericho! perhaps that word
Included all, the captives and the stores
Alike! and shall I dare, with impious step
To rush beyond the bounds prescrib'd by Heaven
With awful prohibition? what transferr'd
Those forfeit regions, from their ancient Lords
To us, but Canaan's crimes? they stood subdued
By Vice, before the delegated sword
Of Israel, thinn'd their legions, and if we
Their victors, learn not first to rule at home
Learn not self-conquest, and to square our wills
To Heavens' behest; the very land, incenst
Will sink beneath us, and o'erwhelm our hopes
As yon fall'n towers can witness! Heaven be prais'd
I never yet my passion to the fair
Explain'd in words, she well indeed could guess
By my demeanour, that my heart was her's:
But—lately when a secret hour I stole
To visit the fair Canaanite, I found
The lustre of her eye was lost, her look
Bore symptoms of dejection, deeper far
Than for her country, even for Abdon's fate
She shew'd before!
That Achan loves her, by undoubted signs
To me is clear, and Achan has a form,—
—Has merit to secure the coyest heart
And kindle sires beneath the coldest ice
Of saintly chastity. If he has wak'd
A mutual flame, perhaps, th'enamour'd pair
Fear to confess their passion, left I urge
My prouder claim, and bid the general voice
Swell the demand with popular applause
And lineal honours, to devote the maid
To me!—I scorn the thought—yet must I lose
Sotamely this distinguished prize?—resign
My heart, to heal a lovesick warriour's sighs!
—It is a dreadful conflict—but the more
Becoming Zalmon!—then, this instant hour
While my resolves are warm, while Glory calls
To her I dedicate! and if my prayers
Can learn that Achan rules her heart, this voice
—May it be never tun'd to sing thy praise
Glory of Israel! may this recreant hand
No longer wield thy delegated sword
Against thy rebels! If I fail to cure
Her sorrows and my friend's—that friend shall find
In me a zealous advocate, beyond
His hope, for less would misbecome the name
And more than this, becomes the man, whose race
Is deem'd to bless our tribes in years to come!

[Exit.