University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Enter Matthias, Phineas, Sagan, Guard.
Matth.
An Army in the Air.

Sag.
I saw it move.

Phin.
And round the Skye Troops of Iron Chariots drove.

Sag.
Through all the Air they scattered Rays so bright,
As if their prancing Steeds were shod with Light.

Phin.
Straight of the sudden all the Shapes were flown,
The war-like Imagery was taken down;
Folded in pitchy Clouds, and roll'd with care
Into the Wardrobe of the wealthy Air.

Sag.
The Martial Atoms, from their noble form
Dissolv'd in Clouds, now combat in a Storm.

Phin.
The Air ungovern'd by its Prince the Sun,
Like factious States, to Anarchy does run;
Wind, Thunder, Rain, and Lightning strive to share,
Like Rebels, all the Provinces o'th'Air.
See! how the Clouds like angry surges fly,
And dash the Crystal beaches of the Skye!

Sag.
The stormy night now she her period knows,
Cruel and fierce, like an old Tyrant, grows;
Whilst all her Train, before her Mistress dyes,
Revel about, and ransack all the Skyes.

Matth.
This Tempest comes from Heaven's dispensive hand,
These Divine Riddles who can understand?
What means that fiery Sword's mysterious Ray,
Which o're our shaking Towers night and day,
In Heaven's bright Canopy does proudly shine,
As brandisht by the Majesty Divine?

Sag.
Methinks Jerusalem, at her solemn Feast,
Seems treated like the Tyrants trembling Guest,
In Purple clad, her Table richly spread,
But death and horrour hanging o're her head.

Phin.
Heaven's Arch ne're shone with such a light before,
It seems as if some Angel lictour bore
The blazing Fasces, at the passing by
Of some Divine Procession in the Skye.

Matth.
Alas! we in Jerusalem daily see
A greater, and a living Prodigie.
A man-like Eccho pin'd into a Sound,
A walking Vault that does one tone rebound;
And night and day does in our Streets proclaim,
With restless Soul, Woes to Jerusalem;
And nor for Prayers nor Racks concern'd will be,
But senseless as Dodona's vocal Tree.
But ha! the wrestling winds are out of breath,
And all is silent now, like sleep or death.

Phin.
The tilting winds have stopt in full career,
And the fierce Lightning now has broke his Spear.

Sag.
The appeas'd Clouds now mildly kiss the shore,
Of that bright Skye they did assault before.

[Noise is heard like an Earthquake.
Matth.
What frightful noise is that?

Sag.
In the Earth's Womb
The four imprison'd winds contend for room.

Matth.
The shaking Earth is seiz'd with trembling pangs,
And on thin air the vaulting City hangs.

[A small voice is heard.
Phin.
Hark! a shrill voice beneath the Altar cries.

Sag.
Some ominous Bird sure through the Temple flies.
[The Prophet is discover'd asleep by the Altar.
But ha! see where the restless Prophet's thrown:
That is the ominous Bird, whose frightful tone
Fills all Jerusalem with pannick fear.
What pow'rful Demon has convey'd him there?

Phin.
The Spirit of Ob, that in the Wizard cries,
From whence he has his lying Prophecies.
Seize on the shrieking Owl; shall he alone
Have rest, that let's Jerusalem have none?

Matth.
Forbear—This Creature, like a Trumpet, knows
No sound he gives, it is Heaven's breath that blows.

[Prophet wakes and rises.
Proph.
From the bright dwellings of the rising Sun,
And from his resting place when day is done,
From the four winds and the Earth's hollow womb
A Voice, a Voice—a dreadful Voice is come;
A Voice against our Elders, Priests, and Scribes,
Our City, Temple, and our holy Tribes;
Against the Bridegroom, and the joyful Bride,
And all that in Jerusalem reside.
Woe, woe, woe.—

Phin.
Stop, stop the Witch.

Matth.
Hold! let him pass secure,
His raving Soul does pain enough endure.
And his unconquer'd flesh no torment lacks,
H'as weary'd Torturers and torn the Racks;
As if unsoul'd, and acted by some Power
That sent him here, as Fate's Ambassador.

Phin.
No Law of Nations shou'd be his defence,
He seems an Agent for some Pestilence.

Matth.
Begone, poor wretch, and seek thy own repose,
And Heaven prepare us for these threaten'd Woes.

Proph.
Woe, woe, woe.

[Ex. Prophet.
Phin.
He grates my Ears with this unpleasant sound:
But heark! a Voice does from the Vault rebound.

[A great Voice is heard from under the Stage like a Tube.
Matth.
A Voice! 'tis Thunder, or some Pagan God
Groans here tormented, chace't from his abode.

[The Voice cryes—
Let us depart.

[Matth.]
Let us depart, the horrid Voice does cry!
What art that call'st? and whither shou'd we fly?

Phin.
The Temple lives! it mov'd before and broke
The bars that fetter'd it, and now it spoke.

Matth.
It rather dyes! and these affrightful groans
Are its departing Soul's contending moans.

[The Vale flies open, and shews the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Matth.
But oh! retire, the sacred Curtain tears,
And all the Temple's bright third Heaven appears;
And, to the prophanation of our Eyes,
Exposes all the Divine Mysteries.

Sag.
It seems as if the starry Heaven were rent,
And Angels shone through the torn Firmament.

Matth.
And see—one of that bright and heavenly Quire
Appears above, all clad in Robes of fire;
And now does from the golden Roof descend,
Whilst the Vaults groan, and yielding Arches bend.

Sag.
Let's fall upon our faces, lest we dye.

Phin.
Haste to the Incense Altar! let us flye.

Matth.
You may—but I fix'd here will boldly stay,
And hear what this strange Messenger will say.

[An Angel descends over the Altar, and speaks.
Ang.
Stay, stay; your flight, fond men, Heav'n does despise,
All your vain Incense, Prayers, and Sacrifice.
Now is arriv'd Jerusalem's fatal Hour,
When She and Sacrifice must be no more.
Long against Heaven hast thou, Rebellious Town,
Thy publick Trumpets of Defiance blown;
Didst open Wars against thy Lord maintain,
And all his Messengers of Peace hast slain:
And now the Hour of his Revenge is come,
Thy Weeks are finish'd, and thy slumbring doom,
Which long has laid in the Divine Decree,
Is now arous'd from his dull Lethargie;
His Army's rais'd, and his Commission seal'd,
His Order's given, and cannot be repeal'd:
And now thy People, Temple, Altars, all
Must in one total Desolation fall.
Heav'n will in sad Procession walk the round,
And level all thy Buildings with the ground;
And from the Soil, enrich'd with humane blood,
Shall Grass spring up where Palaces have stood:
Where Beasts shall feed, and a revenge obtain,
For all the thousands at thy Altars slain.
And this once blessed House, where Angels came
To bathe their aiery wings in holy flame,
Like a swift Vision or a flash of light,
All wrapt in Fire, shall vanish in thy sight;
And thrown aside amongst the common store,
Sink down in Times Abyss, and rise no more.

[The Angel ascends.
Matth.
Oh, wondrous Vision! Oh, I faint with fear!
Was it a humane Voice that fill'd my Ear?
A real sight that entertain'd my Eye,
Or was I snatch'd into some Extasie?

Sag.
Whether I dream't or dy'd I cannot tell,
For yet more life does in a Statue dwell.

Phin.
I liv'd and wak'd, and with these stedfast Eyes
Saw the strange Vision both descend and rise;
And with a Voice, that cou'd no Ears deceive,
Heard it speak wonders more than I'le believe.

Matth.
Did he not tell us, in a threatning tone,
Jerusalem's fatal Hour was hast'ning on?
As if that ours and Truths eternal Sun
Had but few Minutes of his Race to run,
And this bright Heaven shou'd then be taken down,
And among all Time's common Trophies thrown?

Phin.
It did.

Matth.
It must be some illusion then!
The Starry Heav'n shall not so long remain.
Its Basis cannot so much strength afford,
That stands on Nature, this on Nature's Lord.
Nay, that depends on this—For d'ye suppose
Th'unweary'd Sun his daily progress goes,
And the Earth's Womb her various Off-spring bears,
Only as Vassals to Idolaters;
And yields her Gums and Spices to maintain
Some Glutton's Table, or some Idols Fane;
And Heaven and Earth round in a yoke should draw,
To grind for those that break their Makers Law?

Phin.
No, 'tis for us that wait on his Commands:
For us the world was made, for us it stands.

Mat.
Yes, on these Columns the whole Arch is bent,
This Golden Roof supports the Firmament.
The Sun with Altar-Flames adorns his head,
And from this Oyl the heav'nly Lamps are fed;
And all the Order which in Nature dwells
But dances to the sound of Aaron's Bells.
That to say Heav'n will ruine on us send,
Is to declare the world is at an end;
And Nature is disbanding all her Powers,
Then falls the Temple of the world, and ours.

Sag.
If to Tradition we may credit give,
Ages will rowl about e're that arrive,
For yet two thousand years e're we are blest
With the Sabatick thousand years of rest.

Phin.
Besides, we yet expect our promis'd King,
At whose approach a Golden Age must spring;
And a long train of smiling years ensue,
When joyful Nature shall her youth renew:
And all the Powers that now the Earth invade,
Shall vanish each like a Gigantick shade.
And the whole Globe shall but two Monarchs have,
Him, and the Sun his tributary Slave.

Matth.
Those things lye safe in Promises Divine,
As the rich Gold lies ripening in the Mine.
And like the Babylonian Pensile Bowers,
They are born aloft on never yielding Towers:
Towers of firm truth which may our Faith delight,
Tho the fair Gardens are above our sight.
Then whatsoe're these things portend, we know,
Though Famine, Plague, and Wars may lay us low,
The world may sink, but not one Stone of these,
'Till faithful Heav'n performs his Promises.
But come—No sleep to night shall close my Eyes,
Go summon all the Sanhedrim to rise.
We'll find what fit Constructions there can be
Of this strange sight, and stranger Prophesie.

[Exeunt.