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SCENE IV.
An apartment in Absalom's house. Nathan and Tamar.Nath.
But tell me, hast thou ever noted
Amidst his many shining qualities
Aught strange or singular?—unlike to others?
That caused thy wonder? even to thyself
Moved thee to say, “How?—Wherefore 's this?”
Tam.
Never.
Nath.
Nothing that marked him from the rest of men?—
Hereafter you shall know why thus I question.
Tam.
O yes, unlike he seems in many things:
In knowledge, eloquence, high thoughts.
Nath.
Proud thoughts
Thou mean'st?
Tam.
I'm but a young and simple maid,
But, father, he, of all my ears have judged,
Is master of the loftiest, richest mind.
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How have I wronged him; deeming him more apt
For intricate designs, and daring deeds,
Than contemplation's solitary flights.
Tam.
Seer, his far-soaring thoughts ascend the stars,
Pierce the unseen abyss, pervade, like light,
The universe, and wing the infinite.
Nath.
(fixing his eyes upon her.)
What stores of love, and praise, and gratitude,
He thence must bring to Him whose mighty hand
Fashioned their glories, hung yon golden orbs
Amidst his wondrous firmament; who bids
The day-spring know his place, and sheds from all
Sweet influences; who bars the haughty sea,
Binds fast his dreadful hail, but drops the dew
Nightly upon his People! How his soul,
Returning from its quest through Earth and Heaven,
Must glow with holy fervor!—Doth it, maiden?
Tam.
Ah! father, father, were it so indeed,
I were too happy.
Nath.
How!—expound thy words.
Tam.
Though he has trod the confines of the world,
Knows all its wonders, and almost has pierced
The secrets of eternity, his heart
Is melancholy, lone, discordant, save
When love attunes it into happiness.
He hath not found, alas, the peace which dwells
But with our Fathers' God.
Nath.
And canst thou love
One who loves not Jehovah?
Tam.
O, ask not.
158
(fervently.)
My child! thou wouldst not wed an Infidel?
Tam.
(in tears.)
O no! O no!
Nath.
Why then this embassage? Why doth your sire
Still urge the King? Why hast thou hearkened it?
Tam.
There was a time when I had hopes,—when truth
Seemed dawning in his mind,—and sometimes, still,
Such heavenly glimpses shine, that my fond heart
Refuses to forego the hope, at last,
To number him with Israel.
Nath.
Beware!
Or thou 'lt delude thy soul to ruin. Say,
Doth he attend our holy ordinances?
Tam.
He promises observance.
Nath.
Two full years
Hath he abode in Jewry.
Tam.
Prophet, think
How he was nurtured—in the faith of Idols.—
That impious worship long since he abjured
By his own native strength; and now he looks
Abroad through Nature's works, and yet must rise—
Nath.
Speaks he of Moses?
Tam.
Familiar as thyself.
Nath.
I think thou saidst he had surveyed the world?
Tam.
O, father, he can speak
Of hundred-gated Thebes, towered Babylon,
And mightier Nineveh, vast Palibothra,
Serendib anchored by the gates of morning,
Renowned Benares, where the Sages teach
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Where fleets and warriors from Elishah's Isles
Besieged the Beauty, where great Memnon fell:—
Of pyramids, temples, and superstitious caves
Filled with strange symbols of the Deity;
Of wondrous mountains, desert-circled seas,
Isles of the ocean, lovely Paradises,
Set, like unfading emeralds, in the deep.
Nath.
Yet manhood scarce confirms his cheek.
Tam.
All this
His thirst of knowledge has achieved; the wish
To gather from the wise eternal Truth.
Nath.
Not found where he has sought it, and has led
Thy wandering fancy.
Tam.
O, might I relate—
But I bethink me, father, of a thing
Like that you asked.—Sometimes, when I'm alone,—
Just ere his coming,—I have heard a sound,
A strange, mysterious, melancholy sound,—
Like music in the air. Anon, he enters.
Nath.
Ha! is this oft?
Tam.
'T is not unfrequent.
Nath.
Only
When thou 'rt alone?
Tam.
I have not heard it else.
Nath.
A sound like what?
Tam.
Like wild, sad music, father;
More moving than the lute or viol touched
By skilful fingers. Wailing in the air
It seems around me, and withdraws as when
One looks and lingers for a last adieu.
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Just ere he enters?
Tam.
At his step it dies.
Nath.
Mark me.—Thou know'st 't is held by righteous men,
That Heaven intrusts us all to Holy Watchers,
“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for
I say unto you, that in heaven their Angels do always behold
the face of my Father, which is in heaven.”—
Matt. xviii. 10.
“Are they not all ministering Spirits, sent forth to minister
for them who should be heirs of salvation?”—
Hebrews, i. 14.
“The Angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that
fear him, and delivereth them.”—
Psalm xxxiv. 7.
The Jews universally believed in Guardian Angels.
Who ward us from the Tempter.—This I deem
Some intimation of an unseen danger.
Tam.
But whence?
Nath.
Time may reveal: meanwhile, I warn thee,
Trust not thyself alone with Hadad.
Tam.
Think'st thou—
Nath.
I scarce know what I think,—my thoughts are troubled.
If some lewd Spirit, taken with thy beauty,
Or plotting to deceive and disunite us,
Could put on human semblance, this were he.
Tam.
O! father, father—
Nath.
Inscrutable he seems, yet ever busy;
His mocking eye insults, while it emits
The malice of the serpent: snake-like, too,
He slinks away, even while his looks dart fury.
Nay, nay—I lay not to his charge—I know
Little of him, though I have supplicated—
I will not wound thee with my dark suspicions—
But shun the peril thou art warned of, shun
What looks like danger though we haply err.
Be not alone with him I charge thee.
Tam.
Seer,
I will avoid it.
Nath.
All is ominous:
The Oracles are mute, dreams warn no more,
161
My days are dark, my nights are visionless,
Jehovah hath forsaken, or in wrath,
Resigned us for a season. Times like these
Are jubilee in Hell. Fiends walk the Earth,
Misleading princes, tempting poor men's pillows,
Supplying moody hatred with the dagger,
Lust with occasions, treason with excuses,
Lifting man's heart, like the rebellious waves,
Against his Maker. Watch, and pray, and tremble;
So may the Highest overshadow thee!
(Nathan retires, followed slowly out by Tamar.)
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