N9S HEBREW DRAMAS: ON INCIDENTS OF BIBLE-HISTORY. BY WILLIAM TENNANT, M PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST ANDREW'S. JOHN MENZIES, EDINBURGH: D. BOGUE, LONDON. MDCCCXLV. C EDINBURGH : MACPHERSON & SYME, PRINTERS, 31 EAST ROSE LANE. CONTENTS. PAGE JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER ; OR THE HEBREW HEROINE, 1 ESTHER; OR THE FALL OF HAMAN, . . . .123 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 233 ENVY— A FABLE, - 32o JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER, OR THE HEBEEW HEROINE A DRAMATIC POEM. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. Jephthah, Son of Gilliad, Prince of Gilead, "^ Sholmi, his friend. Hanan, a Gileadite Warrior. Zelek, an Ammonite. * TiRZAH, Wife of Jephtliah. "^ Zebah, Daughter of Jephthah. Priest of Mizpeh. Hebrew Herald. Hebrew Prophet Nurse of Zebah. Choir of Gileadite damsels, companions of Zebah. Messengers. Sene lies in Mizpeh, in the Land of Gilead, beyond the Jordan, and in its neighbourhood of mountains and valleys 5 — partially in Rabbath-Ammon, capital of the Ammonites, east- Nvard from Mizpeh, towards the Arabian desert. * These three names marked * are arbitrary. They are Hebrew words havhiff significations suitable to the personages, — ShohTii, Man of my Peace-, — Tirzah, Pleasantness, — ^Zebah, Sacrifice, JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. ACT I. SCENE I. Exterior of JepthaKs house in Mizpeh, Sholmi, Jephthah, Hanan. Sholmi. Hail, son of Gilhad ! Hanan. Welcome to the land O Jephtliah ! of thy fathers ! Jephthah. Peace be to you. My honoured countrymen ; for, by that name, Ye men of Mizpeh ! I rejoice again. After a long disunion, to address you. Sholmi. Thy country now, with reparation large And just, amends thy kinsfolks injuries. The wrongs inflicted by thy father's house Upon thy unreproached youth. Jephthah, These wrongs — B JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, be they all forgotten, and nought now Remembered, but past kindnesses and loves, — Sweet childhood's words, and sports, and tender thoughts. Of mother, father, sisters, brothers, friends, Grav'd deep upon the tablet of the heart. And now, in me, to sense more exquisite, Recaird, at sight of these, my former haunts, Where I was wont to play, a boy, — the court Whereon I practised my yet-tottering steps, — • The olive overshadowing it, whose tops 1 clomb up in my hardihood, — the vines Girdling my father's casements with their long And luscious arms, on which the pruning-knife I learn'd, yet fearfully, to exercise ; — All these remembrances, which, in my walks O'er Ishtob's land, solac'd my solitude, Now freshen in my heart, and influence Mine eyes even to the tears ; — Alas ! why should These pure and tender impulses of soul Give place to harsher thoughts of unlike strain ? 'Tis not for this — t' embrace my father's hearth — My father s people call me back to Mizpeh ; — War, horrid war ! — The Ammonite is up, And near ; — My country needs my strength of arm. A DRAMATIC POEM. 7 My war-encountering heart — The spear and shield For battle must be grasp'd. Sholmi. My lord ! the foes, (As thou in part hast been apprised already), Those children of Ben-Ammi, who, of old, Hir'd Beor's Son to curse us, have pour d forth From Rabbath-Ammon, their hill-citadel. Their troops by thousands westward o'er our WcA ;— From Jazer to the Tower of Penuel, From Ashdoth-pisgah north to Plavoth-jair, No sheepfold, fig-tree-field, corn-cover'd vale, Hath scap'd their devastation, as in bands Scouring they pass, and sweeping from their place The shepherd with his flocks, the husbandman Together with his harvest, vintage-men With their year's vintage ; — Mahanaim's pride Is trodden down by spoilers, — Rogelim Hath lost her people; — Minnith's wheat-rich plain Is scorched into blackness ; — Jabbok's stream, From Ramoth-Gilead to the Jordan's banks. Flows through a land of desolation, Of weeping mothers with their sons and daughters Clinging in terror round them ; — Bashan's plains, Gilead's green mountains, have their cry sent up, Demanding thee from Ishtob's sheep-brows'd land, S JEPHTHAH*S DAUGHTER, Their hero and their helper, — And, with God. Here standest thou again on Israers plains, Our hero and our helper ! Jephthah. With the name Of God upon our banners, and his arm As with a shield encompassing our heads In day of battle, Israel, let us trust, Will give his foes discomfiture ; — Meanwhile, And for this end, what lies in the arm of flesh Must be prepared, — the instrument, wherewith Man must be working, and which He on high Makes valid with his blessing ; — Have the tribes Assembled with their princes ? Muster they In Mizpeh's plains, or down upon the vale Of Succoth, or in Ephraim's green -wood field Near to the Jordan-ford ? Sholmi. My lord, the host Of Israel, quaking under Ammon's fear. Lies weak and incoherent, tribe by tribe, Sundered and kept apart by jealousies, Each in the covert of his own encampment, Unsociably shut up, prince envying prince, Chief counteracting chief, whereby the strength Of Israel, all dismembered and detached, Is scattered and consumed ; — The Reubenites, A DRAMATIC POEM. Numbering twelve thousand warriors, wlio obey Abiel their tardy prince, have pitched their tents 'Tween Medeba and Heshbon, where they skulk, Awaiting till the roaming Ammonite Come down to burn with fire their villages. The sons of Gad, that, in their number, reach To twice ten thousand, spread their broken bands From Debir's border to Beth-ammon's vale. Amid whose bushy hollows camp'd they lie, Astonished at the foe's rapacity, And by his onset quaiFd, — their chieftains slain, Their pride of heart confounded ; — over them Gareb, the son of Hashem, rules, a prince Fearful, and yet untaught the rule of men. Manasseh's tribe, the Geshurites, and sons Of Bashan, and Mount Gilead, those who dwell In fenced cities, villages, and folds. From Shenir and the Jordan's founts, to where The Jabbok westward rolls his winding wave, Lie here encamp'd, our Gilead's sole defence, In Mizpeh ; — See the white pavilions pitched Of these our shepherd-warriors, on the slope. In rows down stretching from the city- wall Unto the Jabbok's olive-fringed lip. These in their various companies and troops. 1 JEPHTHAH^S DAUGHTER, Do greet, Prince, thy coming ; and await Their time and their appointments from thy word ; — We under thee, each in our place, subserve. Jephthah. O friends ! let us forestall the prowl- ing foe, And, ere he wist, transfer the wasting war To his own realm, where now he scornful sits Upon his hill of Rabbah, eating up The spoil of Israel. For achieving this More perfectly, let messengers be sent To Gareb, Ha^shem's son, and Abiel, With notice of our purpose, and request That, with the troops of Reuben and of Gad, They meet us speedily upon the plain Abel-ceramim ; thence, conjoin d to march Against the mountain people, that rejoice In their despite against the land of Israel. Sholmi. My lord, these orders shall be straight performed ; I to the Gadite will dispatch a post;. To call them upward from Beth-aram*s vale. HANi^N. And I shall by intelligence excite The tardy Reubenite, t' unpitch, and leave His bootless ambuscade near Heshbon's wall. Jefhthah. Then go, my lords, and prosper. A DRAMATIC POEM. 11 SCENE II. Chamher of JejjJithah* s hoicse. Enter Jephthah {cirined^ iclio doffs his helmet on entrance)^ Zebah, Tirzah. Zebah. So soon, dear fatlier ! to depart from us For the war-jSeld ? Tirzah. And ere thou hast had time To breathe from heat of journey, or to make Thy courts in Mizpeh, and thy househokl-chamber Familiar to thy soul ? Jephthah. My spoused wife ! My daughter ! dearest to mine eyes ! — O now Father and spouse must be a while put off. And, in their stead, the warrior be put on ! My country calls me ; 'tis to fight for Israel, Her grey-hair' d men, her widows, mothers, daughters, Her babes and fatherless, that I forsake My best-belov'd, for the tumultuous field Where battle rages ; — 'Tis that peace again May bless our Jacob ; that the virgin's song, The shepherd's pipe, the bridegroom's evening harp, 12 jephthah's daughter, Eacli utterance of a land's felicity, May yet be heard, in mingled consonance, On Gilead's mountains and on Bashan's plains ; O, 'tis for this that I abandon thee ; My wife ! and thee my daughter ! — God again. The God of battles, in his gracious love. Will bring me back ! TiRZAH. May Israel's saviour Cast down the host of strangers with the sword Of those that love him, and that guard the widov/ And virgin from their ruthless ravagings ! Zebah. And may my father to his home return, Glad in the rich spoils of his enemies. And shouting gratulations of sweet joy ! For me, till his return, my task shall be To braid, and broider, and set up with gold A chaplet, which may ready be to deck His warrior-brow, as to our gates again He comes rejoicing in his triumph back. Herald {who enters), O Prince of Israel's armies ! Put thou now Thy helmet on ; take up thy spear and shield ; And, as a giant, gird thee for the war ; The hosts stand congregate on Mizpeh's plain, Awaiting thee to head them : — All the sons A DRAMATIC POEM. 1^ Of Gad, tlieir hundreds and their thousands, joined By Eeuben's warriors now with speed arriv'd From Heshbon, rank upon the vineyard-plain, — Thither the shepherd- warriors, Gilead's men, Hurry to mingle with them, and complete Israel's collected army, ardent all T' o'erpass the Jabbok, and invade the land Of Ammon's robber children. Jephthah. Israel calls, Nor brooks my longer tarriance. — Now farewell, My wife ! My sweetest child ! Farewell ! May God Make us all meet again in happiness ! (Kisses them)-, TiRZAH. Farewell, mine honour d lord ! Zebah. God go with thee, O, father, and triumphant bring thee back ! SCENE III. A spot on the Banks of the Jabbok^ comma^iding a view of the armies marching, Hebrew Ppophet (addressing them)^ March on, thou son of Gilhad ! Thou that, long 14 JEPHTI1AH*S DAUGHTER, An exile from thy fathers house, art now Returned, a shield of help to Israel, March onward in thy mightiness ! Draw near To battle ; order thou the legions forth ; Furbish the spear ; put on the brigandine ; Make red the shields of all thy yaliant men ! For lo ! the day of vengeance comes, the day I'Yhen Israel shall avenge him of his wrongs. And satiate and make drunk his sword with blood Of those that rendered desolate his land ! Howl, city on the hill ! For thou art taken ! City of waters 1 Howl, for thou art spoii'd ! Daughters of Rabbah! cry; gird ye with sackcloth; Lament ; run by the hedges to and fro. With shrieks of lamentation, for all joy Is perish'd from your streets, the voice of mirth. The voice of bridegroom, and the voice of bride ! *Tis come — the day of bloody recompence ; Of dreadful tribulation to the troublers ! — O thou backsliding daughter ! that hath clapp'd Thy hands, and stampM with thine insulting feet So long at Israel, wherefore gloriest thou In the strong fortress of thy mountain- walls. And in the valleys, the long flowing valley, Spread at thy feet, rich overclad with vines ? A DRAMATIC POEM. 15 Behold upon thee there is brought a fear ;•— As thou hast drunk the milk, and ate the fruits, Of Gilead, and of Bashan, so thy grapes Shall be consumed, thy flocks and herds shall be Scattered, and rapt away with violence ; The hosts of God surround thee ; thou art fallen ! So perish in their wickedness the wicked 1 So perish all thine enemies, O Israel ! — March onward, then, thou Chief of Princes ! — yet, O Son of Gilhad ! take thou heed — beware — Lest the unweigh'd pronouncing of thy lips Entangle and perplex thy soul with snare ! 'Tis done — thine unadvised lip hath spoken !— A mighty stone of trial waits the mighty ! SCENE IV. A Situation hefore the Armies. Sholmi, Zelek. Sholmi. Here let us stand, my lord ! here hold our parle, Ere th* adverse armies join the battle -shock ;— 16 jephthah's daughter, My prince, the head of Israel's hosts, hath sent Me as his mouth and his ambassador, To ask thy lord and master, Ammon s king, Why, as a prowler, he, by night and day. Comes down to devastate our beauteous land, Ev'n as an evening wolf to raven there. To swallow up her substance, and to make Gilead and Bashan, and the shores of Arnon, A den of weeping, and a wilderness ? Zelek. I have an answer ready for my kiug;- The king of Ammon, an invader comes To fight against thee, and to plunder thee. Thee in thy land — ^because that land is his ; Because, when Israel out of Egypt came, Your roaming people spoil'd him of his soil, From Arnon north to Jabbok, from the stream Of Jordan to the eastern wilderness ; — Of all this land the Ammonite was robb'd ; — Therefore restore again, O Prince, in p^ace What thou unjustly has possessed thee of; And go — with thy proud brother, Ephraim, Bide thee beyond the Jordan. SiioLMi. Israel, When from the house of Egypt up he came. Took not the land of Moab, nor the land A DRAMATIC POEM. 17 Of Amnion's children ; but possessed himself. By right of conquest, of King Sihon's land ; Because the Ammonite, contemning terms Of peace, assail'd him, unprovoked, with \rar Upon the field of Jahaz ; — Israel's God Did there deliver Sihon and his people Into the hand of Israel ; there our fathers Smote them in battle ; and, bj right of war, Possessed the land of those they overthrew, Now impotent to people and possess it. This is their right of occupancy ; this Their holding and their claim, confirmed and backed By a long tenure of three hundred years : — Let Ammon keep his own, that which his god Milcom hath given him ; that which Jacob's God Hath given us, we will fearlessly retain ; — Boasts Ammon's king to be of more account Than Balak, king of Moab ? Yet did he E'er strive with Israel, or dispute our right To cultivate, as ours, King Sihon's land ? Who, for three hundred years, hath e'er up-stirr'd That claim, now dead and futile ? 'Tis thy lord And master, that uow sins in stirring it. I have not sinn'd against thee : It is thou That dost me wrong, t' infest with war my land: — B 18 JEPHTHAH*S DAUGHTER, The Lord, the Judge of all, be judge this day 'Tween Israel's children and 'tween Amnion's children ! Zelek. If this is Israel's answer ; if instead Of restitution, peaceable and just. He meet King Nahash with such rude response, I, in my master's name, do now defy And dare him to defend, keep, vindicate, With his sword's edge, the land he occupies : Let then the approaching fight determine it ; And may the God, whose temple we behold On Kabbah's mountain, bless the Ammonite ! Sholmi. Thus be it, then— -according as the war Determines, be the justice and the judgment ; And may our God, whose temple is the Heaven, With his salvation bless the Israelite ! ^SCENE Y. In front of the Hebrew A rmAj, Jephthah, Priest. Jephthah. Our bands are now all ready, at the sign Of trumpet-peal, to march against the foe; A DRAMxlTIC POEM. 19 Approach, thou Priest of God, now to thy duty, Speak to the people, and encourage thou Their hearts to enter on the work of war. Priest (To the Army.) Hear me, O Israel ! v/hen I speak to thee Th' encouragement which comes to thee from God ! This day to battle 'gainst your enemies Ye here approach : Lo ! in close wedge of war Enrank'd, in number more than thou, they stand ; Thou seest their horses and their chariots, And all their glittering gallantry of war ; Thou seest their emblem, their gold-forged god, Before them as an ensign held on high, To which, as to a thing of life and power. The valiant men of Chemosh lift their eyes, And look for help ; — O Israel fear thou not. Let not your hearts be faint, and do not tremble, Nor be ye terrified because of them : For Jacob's saviour. He, that is more strong Than th' Ammonites' vain forgery of gold, The Lord your God, is he that goetli with you, To fight for you, against your enemies, — To save, and crown you in the day of war ! Jephthah (To the Army.) Warriors of Israel 1 To the fight advance ! 20 jephthah's daughter, SCENE YI. An eminence near the Field of Battle. Sholmi, JEPH-mAH, Priest. Sholmi. The Ammonite is beaten, and is fled ! Jephthah. His stroDgest troop, that stood em- battled close, Fronting our men of Bashan and of Gilead, In the main passage, 'tween the vineyard-hedges, — Behold their scatter'd wreck and residue, Hurrying with furj and wild disarray, Up, up into their mountain-territory ! Chariots, and foot, and horsemen, w ith the sound Of whip, and rattling wheels, and stamping steeds, Tumultuous, mingled in their homeward rush. From Israel's sword pursuing ! — Stand, friends ! A while on this commanding hillock's top ; — Here let us stand, and breathe a moment's space, Scanning the ruin of the nearer field. And questioning with our eyes the farther region On right hand and on left, for visible sign Or demonstration, whereby we may learn A DRAMATIC POEM. 21 The fate of Israel's two other bands, Posted V encounter Amnion's other hosts. For — to this place, a common point, the chiefs Of Gad and Reuben were enjoin'd to send To me the news of the divided war. Sholmi. Behold, my lord, a foot-fleet messenger Past posting hither from the south. — His mien Bespeaks important tidings thence. — 1st Messenger* My lord ! The son of Hashem has enforc'd my feet To utmost speed, my tongue to faithfulness In its report : — Me he hath charg'd to say — The band of Amnion's children, that with front Of glittering and protruded spears, blocked up Passage to Israel on the southern road, No sooner felt the cutting stony shower Flung in their faces from ten thousand slings Whirl'd by the Gadite warriors overhead. Than back they slunk, stunn'd and astonished, With disembattl'd ranks all impotent To stand or grapple, in the farther fight With Gareb and his band of warriors. So, up the mountain -road I left them flying, Disbanded and disorder'd, every man His own commander, or commanded only 22 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, By his own fear, tlmt spurs and urges him To 'scape the common death which, from behind. Comes dogging him into his mountain-house : — Israel hath conquered ! Priest. On the northern road A second post draws near. 2d Mess. Mj lord, O Prince ! I come a messenger from AbieFs host, Charg'd to communicate to you the news, That in the more advanced and northern post, Where, near the Plane-tree, stood the Ammonite, Enrank'd with his ally, the Arab Zabdiel, Collected in their might, footmen, and horse. And chariots, to attack the Reubenite, — The battle in a moment, kindled up By sound of trumpets upon either side, Wax'd warm, and raged with havoc mutual, Alternating with onset and defeat ; Till, from his iron chariot, Zabdiel fell, Struck by a Hebrew archer ; on the which. The Arabians, smit with terror, took to flight. And, after them, partakers of th' alarm, Fled Amnion's children : — Israel straight pursued : He chas'd them up their southward winding vale ; He chas'd them up their westward winding vale ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 23 Ev'n to their place, the City, called, of Waters, Beside whose plain, near to the river's edge, Their broken ranks they rally and collect, Around their king, who, with his chosen band Of spear-arm'd heroes, lion-like, and bold. There sits, the source and centre of the war. I saw him in his golden-harness' d chariot, High-seated, with his warriors gathered round, His kingdom's glory, and his pride of war, Boasting that, with their god Baal-peor's aid. They will defend their city, and repel Back from their gates, th' invasive Israelite : In this o'erswelling fit of confidence He opes his mouth in challenge, and defies To single fight the leader of the Hebrews : He cry'd out in our ears — " Before the gates of Rabbah be it fought Between us ; and if Ammon's king shall fall, Then shall his city be to Israel given A spoil and plunder. Amnion's sons and daughters Delivered up as captives to your hands ; — But, if my god shall glorify my spear. And give to Amnion's king the victory. Let Israel's cities, and let Israel's sons And daughters, be surrendered as a spoil, 24 jeputhah's daughter, A prey and plunder to the conqueror ; — This is the proud defiance which he sends To Israel's hero ; and, through him, defies The God of Israel. Jephthah. In th' Almighty's strength. The God of Israel, I accept that proud And bold defiance : — on thy steps again Go back, and be the herald to declare My acceptation of his haughty summons. Bid him take up and grasp his spear : gird on His brigandine of brass, his plaited fence Of warlike harness, make him ready all — The Hebrew leader hastens to the fight, Before the gates of Rabbah, in the front Of Chemosh and his temple. Mess. At thy word, My lord, I speed me, with thine answer back, To the defying Ammonite. [_I)epart$. Jephthah (with eyes raised to heaven J O Thou My father's God 1 who hitherto hath blest Me and my people, in the day of war, Prosper thy pleasure in my hand, cast down The heathen boaster, that, with lying mouth Lifts up 'gainst Thee his idol-vanity^ A DRAMATIC POEM. 25 And challenges thy glory and thy power ! O let the heathen know that thou art God ! Thine be the glory — let my right-hand be The instrument thou blessest for the work 1 This is my prayer — which with a vow I crown ; — Be witness, priest of God ! to this my vow : — God ! if thou this day^ beneath my spear ^ Shalt humble the proud Ammo7iite^ and give His people as a prey into mine hands ^ Then it shall be^ that when /, from the war^ Return in peace^ whatever cometh forth To meet ms from the doors of mine oicn house^ Shall be the Lord's^ and I shall offer it For a burnt-offering up : — This be my vow Upon the eve of battle — iyi the hour Of preparation for the dreadful fray ! Priest. Mine ears bear witness to thy virtuous vow : — Earth doth record — accept it, gracious Heaven ! 26 jephthah's daughter, ACT II. SCENE I. Jephthah's House m Mizpeh. TiRZAH, Zebah, Messenger. TiRZAH. Proclaimer of glad tidings ! welcome thou To Jeplithali's house, made happy by the words Of thy report ! Messenger. I do not come as charged By Israel's chief as special messenger Unto his house, but, as a private man, The first with news, come freshest from the host, I publish what mine eyes haye there beheld Of Jephthah*s victory. TiRZAH. Thou bear'st the marks Upon thy garments, feet, and countenance. Of rapid travel. — At what time didst thou Leave Israel's armies ? Mess. Ere the twilight fell Last night ; the sun was in his seaward stoop. Dipping his disk behind Mount Ephraim, When down tho Ammonites' long-flowing valley I 'gan my travel westward. A DRAMATIC POEM. 27 TiRZAH. And the hosts Of Israel then victorious stood before The gates of Rabbath- Amnion ? Mess. Rabbath's gates Had then been open'd ; all her bolts and bars Asunder had been riven, brought down, and broken To let the vanquisher of Nahash in. The son of Gilhad to the spoil. Zebah. My father Mess. He, prominent in prowess and in praise, Excelleth all the mighty — Zebah. Saw's t thou him. Amid his multitude of warriors Up-mounting to the fortress on the hill. Safe in his glory ? Mess. I beheld The prince of Israel's armies, in his glory Ascending from the death-field, where his spear Overthrew the king of Amnion. Tirzah. Of that field. Where Jephthah fought, and Ammon's monarch fell, Do thou, th' eye-witness of the deeds, relate To us, unknowing yet, eager to know. Each circumstance and feat, from the first sound Of clarion when the combatants engag'd. 28 jephtiiah's daughter. To the last shout of triumph sent on high, Bj Israel's armies. Mess. To the house of Jephthah These glories appertain, and are become Its crown ; — 'tis then with joyous readiness He, who beheld, shall, what he saw, relate. — Israel's three bands, to different posts detach'd, From every post had driv'n the adversaries ; As these, toward their mountain-capital, Went flying, Israel followed in their rear, With arrow, sling-shot stone, and javelin. The routed troops, as nearer to the fort They drew, concentrated and form'd their ranks In one huge heaving mass around their king, Whose presence, in his chariot mounted high, Seem'd potent as a charm to re-enforce And rally for a space his stricken people ; — Yet did not Israel here relax his war ; But, gathering close, and thickening on the foe. Between the river and the fortress gates, Hemm'd them about with long-directed spears, As in an iron ever-narrowing circle. There stood king Nahash in his chariot up ; — And, with a desperate front, he uttered, Mix'd with reproaches and loud scoffing scorn, A DRAMATIC POEM. 29 Defiance unto Israel's God and Israel ; Extolling blasphemously his golden god. And challenging, in that his idol's strength. The Hebrew leader to contend with him In single combat, bow, or sword, or spear : Terror took all the Hebrews, when thej heard Th' insulting summons shouted from his lips ; Their mighty shrunk ; nor dar'd one undertake The proffer'd battle ; till at last their Prince, Arriving, in the front of all stood forth. And, on the terms proposed, did in the name Of Abraham's God, accept the controversy ; — Straight from his lofty chariot downward leapt The king in cuirass clad, and on with stride Mov'd, like a giant, to confront the man That dar'd t' encounter Ammon's champion. The trumpets straight were blown; the sign was given; And from the hand of Nahash liew the spear With iron fenc'd, and massy as the beam Of weaver ; — overhead it past — and sung Harmless — and hit not him 'twas aim'd to strike. Zebah. O thanks to Israel's God, by whose kind arm That meditated wound was turn'd aside ! 30 jephtiiah's daughter. Mess. The son of Gilhad, then, with high-heav'd hand His javelin swung, and, May the God^ he crj'd. Of Ahrahmn make his servant* s weapon prosper ! It flew, and Nahash fell ; — a shout of joy- Rang from the Hebrew hosts ; a sullen sound Of murmur and incensement, ill-suppress*d, Spread through the multitude of Ammonites, Like southern whirlwind reeling round the tops Of Bashan's forests ; — Soon the wrath flam'd forth ; And in, amid the ranks of Israel, Came, like the rush of thunder, Ammon s chariots, With showers of weapons from a thousand hands. Then were the Hebrew warriors by that shock Enkindled up into a tenfold fury, ' And, with ten thousand vengeance- wreaking deaths, A bloody recompense they gave the foe. The foe or fell or fled ;— The City of AYaters Was taken ; and the brazen- valved gates Of Rabbath- Ammon, on whose mountain-height Towers Chemosh in his temple, up were dash'd. That Israel, with her prince, might enter in. I saw them enter ; I beheld the banners Of Jephthah borne sublime and pitched up high Upon the fort, and Chemosh and his priests, A DRAMATIC POEM. 31 With all the sons of Ammon, and their daughters, Caught in their hold, confounded, carry'd captive. Sunk, fall'n, before the might of Israel. TiRZAH. Thus hath Destruction seiz'd on the destroyer, Thus is the spoiler spoil'd : — Our God be prais'd For this his high salvation to our land ! Gilead's and Bashan's mothers now will sing For joy, their daughters now will all be glad, And Mizpeh's gates be lifted up, to let The prince of warriors in. — But, come, O thou Gladdener of Mizpeh, and of Jephthah's house ! Approach the fountain in the mid-court — there Wash thou from travel's dust thy feet, and take Rest and refreshment 'neath the olive's shade. SCENE II. Garden of JephtliaKs House. TiRZAH, ZeBAH. TiRZAH. Here let us sit, my daughter, underneath This fig-tree's shade, and in the evening's cool Enjoy to-day's glad tidings. 32 ^ JEPIITIIAIl's DAUGHTER. Zebah. I have brought My psalt'ry to assist me, in my thoughts Of exultation, and of gratitude To Israel's God, for the high grace vouchsaf VI Unto my father's house. TiRZAH. Sing thou, my daughter ! Utter thy song to thy string'd instrument, In honour of thy father. Lo ! the night, Now drawing on, serene with all her stars, Seems in her clear, cool calm, to harmonise With the sweet breathings of thy pious spirit, And with thy harp's soft harmony. Zebah (Sings to the harp,) 1. From where on Ammon's mountain-lands The City of the Waters stands. The spoiler like devouring flame, On Heuben and Manasseh came ; Rich Giiead's folds were swept away, And Bashan's beauty was his prey. 2. The highways, where such throng had been. Without a traveller were seen ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 33 The villages, on hill or dell, Had ceas'd, had ceas'd in Israel ; On Abel's plains and Ramoth's rocks, Were heard no bleatings of the flocks. 3, In Sibmah's vineyards, where the sound Of happy men, late, rose around, There was no song of vintage-feast ; The wine-press-shouting all had ceas'd ; Heshbon did on her mountain mourn, And Elealeh wept forlorn. 4. Oh 1 gladness, then, and happy day Were taken from our land away ! The heathen lords from Kabbah's town Our plants of Joy had trodden down ; T wail'd the woes, that then befell The mothers of our Israel. 5 But now a light hath come from God ; Israel's great champion is abroad ; S4 jephthah's daughter^ God hath to Mizpeh given again The hero, wish'd so long in vain ; He came ; he gathered Israel's bands ; He marched up the mountain-lands ; 6. He fought ; he slew ; the bars he broke Of Amnion on his mountain-rock ; Baal-pcor's treasures up are riven ; Her priests and princes forth are driven ;- O Israel 1 bless and thank thy God ; Joy now in thee shall make abode 1 SCENE III. The Fortress of Rabhah. Jephthah, Sholmi, Hanan, and other Chiefs. Jephthah. Has the foil'd foe been followed ? Sholmi. To his holds We have pursued him. A DRAMATIC POEM. 35 Han AN. To the Arnon's bank, And city in tlie middle of the river, The southern boundary of Amnion's realm, Our men of Geshur tracked him. Sholmi. Onward thence To Minnith and the streams of Dibon-Gad, The western bound of his unruly realm, Our men of Gilead, following him, have vexM His residue with deadly persecution At the spear's point : His twenty cities, spread, From Minnith to the stream-nurs'd Aroer, Have been subdued ; — our Israel now keeps Possession of their gates. Jephthah. And Rabbali's hill. The head and heart of Ammon's roving war, Now garrisoned by Gilead's valiant men. Remains secure to Israel ; all the gold, That dazzled Ammon's temple- worshippers, And their vain gods themselves, clamp'd up of gold. And burnish VI brass, Milcom and Chemosli lewd, Are spoird and carry'd captive ; Israel's horn With honour is exalted ; Ammon's lies Scatter'd and brought to nought; Nought then re- mains Yet to be conquer'd ; all the work is done, 36 JEPHTHAIl's DAUGHTER, For which we overpass'd the Jabbok-stream. God hath been gracious to our grieved land, And, in proportion to our previous griefs. Hath multiply 'd our war's prosperities, — Since, then, the enemies are all dry'd up, Bootless were now the longer lingering To Israel's chiefs, now of the war discharged. — Hanan ! remain thou in the mountain-fort, With these thy Gileadites, their governor ; — Gareb 1 possess the cities in the plain ; — We, other chiefs, may to our household-hearths In peace retire ; and thence throughout our land Diffuse the circling joy, each from his house. As from a centre, till from coast to coast Israel's whole people comprehend the joy. SCENE lY. Flat Roof of Jephthalis House. TiRZAii, Zebah, Nurse. TiRZAH. Look thou, my daughter, in the farthest east, A DRAMATIC POEM. 3i Where seems the blue sky edging the green earth ; — Seest thou ought stirring ? Zebah. O'er the vineyard- tops, Between us and the eastern road, that leads To Rabbath-Ammon, I discern no dust, Cast up to heav'n by my dear father's steps, Th' announcer of his coming. TiRZAH. 'Tis the strength Of our fond love and weary wishfulness, Which makes the time to roll with slowness on, Until my lord appear. Nurse. The showers, that fall High in the mountains, may with sudden rush Have slackened his foot's speed. TiRZAH. The mid-day heat, That burns the mountains, may have haply forc'd Th' overheated traveller t' exchange the broad And sun-scorch'd highway for the cooling shade Of forest-trees adjoining it. Nurse. As yet Day droops not ; and the sun, 'tween Gibeon s hill And his far setting-place i' th' western sea, Hangs mid- way, calling forth the rested hind To evening's furrow-labour. TiRZAH. There remains, 38 JEPIITII All's DAUGHTER, Till til' evening-star appear, sweet interval. Next to the morning sweetest of the day. And grateful to the traveller. Zebah. Ere the dew Of twilight falls, the trumpet's voice aloud From Jabbok's ford shall publish his approach. Inviting us to meet him. TiRZAH. Deem it so, daughter ! and prepare thee for his coming ; Attire thee in thy goodliest array, The meetest for thy father in his triumph ; The chaplet broider'd and set up with gold, During his absence thy glad chamber-task, Now finished and adapted for his brows. Take in thy lap to crown him when thou meet'st ; The song thou hast indited for his love Have ready on thy lip ; and in thy hand Thy harp, to greet him with a burst of joy. Thy choir of damsels, too, the bloom and flower Of Mizpeh's daughters, taught to share thy song And dance, have all about thee, ministrant, With viols, harps, and timbrels, to swell out And furnish to the full the gratulation With every note, and chord, and sound, and step, Becoming that glad welcome ; — Look again A DRAMATIC POEJM. S^ My daughter 1 towards the eastern road, across The summits of the vineyards ; — Lo, methinks, A dust uprises ! Zebah. Near the white watch-tower I see a whirl of ruddy dust ascending O'er the green tree-tops ;. — Ha ! It follows on — - It marks the line of path — It cometh down — Draws toward Mizpeh n^earer, TiRZAH. Take thy harp ; Gather thy damsels — Go, my daughter, go, And meet thy father 'tween the vineyard rows, On this side the Jabbok. Zebah. Happy day ! And happy hour ! to give me back again My father I 40 JEPHTHAH's DAUGHTEi?, ACT III. SCENE I. Vineyard between Mizpeh and the Jahhok. Zebah, Damsels, with Musical Instruments, Zebah. Here stand, O sisters, in this cool recess Of vineyard- shade, beside the way—- here, stand A little while, until the trumpet's note Warn us of their ascending up the path From the stream's bank. 1st Damsel. They cross the Jabbok — now The trumpet, hark ! proclaims that they have reached The river's hither bank. 2d Damsel. I see the prince Of Mizpeh in the fore- ward marching up, His spearmen following after. Zebah. Forward now, Upon the way, O sisters ! — right in front To meet him in the march ; — Each in the dance Assume her place, and let both voice and hand Send forth loud gratulation ? \_They begin the dance and song^ with the sound of harp and timbrel. A DRAMATIC POEM. 41 1. {All sing.) Awake my ten-string'd glory ! wake ; My voice ! sweet celebration make ; Sing praise, sing praise, to him who hath Freed Israel from the spoiler's wrath ; Make loud the timbrel ring ; advance To meet him in the measured dance ! 2. (Zebah alone.) Follow me, sisters ! — I will lead The song, and in the dance precede ; The chaplet, which my fingers wove, Dear token of a daughter's love, Shall gird his temple ; mine own hand Shall crown him with the beauteous band ! 3. {All) Mountains of Mizpeh ! lift the voice ; Ye vales ; ye vineyards ! all rejoice ; Your prince returns ; Behold him come Exulting in his triumph home ! In front he marches ; in the rear His warriors walk with ported spear. 42 JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, 4. (AIL) Approacli, tLou Champion of the Lord ! Now put aside thy spear and sword ! Joy, joy thy glorious entry waits ; And Mizpeh lifts on high her gates ; Thy consort for thy coming longs ; Thy daughter hails thee home with songs ! 5. (Zebah alone,) Follow me, sisters ! I will lead The song, and in the dance precede ; The chaplet, which my fingers wove. Dear token of a daughter s love, Shall gird his temples ;— Mine own hand Will crown him with the beauteous band ! (Jephthah approaches — his daughter acU varices to meet him,) Zebah. Joy to my father ! Joy ! (Jephthah, starting hack with surprise.) Oh God ! My daughter ! Thou ! — Thou ! — my daughter ! — Oh ! Zebah. Look on me. Father ! A DRAMATIC I'OEM. 43 Jephthah. Out on thee, O mj cbild ! where- fore, wherefore, Appear st thou here before me ? Zebah. I have come With songs to meet thee in thy home-approach, To crown thee with this coronet of love, Woven for thee in my chamber when I sate Pining for thy return ; — Ah me ! thou look*st not Upon me and the broider'd gift I bear ! Look on me, O my father ! Jephthah. my God ! Why was I born for this ? — would I had fallen Beneath the weapon of the Ammonite, And not have met my dearest, only child, Here, here, the first — thus, thus, disastrously ! Zebah. What meanest, thou, Father? Hast thou not Seen thy desire upon thine enemies ? Has not the God of Israel been with thee. And brought thee home, in all a warrior's joy. To meet thy people, Gilead's sons and daughters. Thy wife, thy daughter, now from Mizpeh's gates Pour'd to salute thee ? Jephthah. Speak not of it, child ! O speak not of a warrior's happiness ; 44 JEPHTHAH^S DAUGHTER, Spare, spare, thy salutations — would to God Thy going forth, thy songs, and thy salutes, Had been forborne ! — thy virgin-choir and daince ! — And thou, first songster in thy father's praise, — Alas ! thou knowest not how they have slain Thy father's peace for ever ! Zebah. O what is this ? Such unexpected words — what mean they, father ? Alas! He looks not on me still — still in his eye From me and from the chaplet in my hand Turn'd off as in displeasure 1 (She weeps) O God ! reveal to me my sin ; what crime Have I committed in my ignorance Against the father that once lov'd me so. That thus his eye refuses me, and I Am shut out, as a stranger, from his heart ! O let me know mine error or my crime, That I may yet repair it, and regain A father's greetings and a father's love ! Instruct me, O my God ! (looking toioards heaven J Jephthah. O weep not, weep not Ill-fated, loving child ! — yea, for thy love Ill-fated ! — 'Tis not thou that hast been erring ; Thou art all innocence, and too much love ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 45 Tis I thy father that hare err'd — 'Tis I That have against thee sinn'd — My lips, too rash, Have cruelly involy'd thy innocence, And made thee sufferer from thy father's error. Alas, I thought not — pardon me my child, O Pardon me ! (He kisses her) Thou canst not pardon me — 'tis a crime too huge For thy forgiving — do not then entreat me — Escape me— flee thy father — get thee up Into the mountains with thy virgin-choir, And dwell thou there within some secret cave Deep, deep, and dark and inaccessible. Which thy sad father's steps may ne'er have skill Amid the mazes of the wilderness To search out, and to penetrate ! Yet flee me not, my daughter — Oh, no, no — Thou must not, and thou canst not — thou art mine — I love thee — thou art due to me — thou canst not Escape the fatal pledge, remediless, Fallen from my lips ! Zebah. What fatal pledge, O father ? Thy words are full of mystery — but thine eyes. That look not on me with their wonted smile. Speak secret sorrows, too, too full of meaning ; — He weeps, alas ! and speaks not ! 46 jephthah's daughter, Jephthah. (after sobs of weeping) Happy thou, My cliild ! more happy in thy ignorance, Than I in my most miserable knowledge ! — Ah me ! let not the day be blessed wherein I left my house in Ishtob, to lift up My spear against the foes of Israel ! O that the battle-field had been my grave ! Then I had died in peace, and not have seen This labour and this sorrow, that my days Should be consumed, and Jephthah and his house Be made a spectacle to Israel ! — Leave me my daughter! (Repels her from him,) Zebah. Miserable me ! My father flings me from his heart — Receive And refuge me, sweet comrades. 1st Damsel. See ! the hero hides His head within his mantle-folds — ^his heart Throbs vf ith some strong unconquerable grief, — Unknown save to himself; — Daughter of Jephthah ! let us hence remove ; — Joyous we came, unjoyful we return ; — Pass onward, O my sisters ! A DRAMATIC POEM, 4? SCENE 11. Chamber in Jephthans House. Zebah, Tirzah. Zebah. mother ! Tirzah. My daughter, all in tears ! what hath befallen, That thus in sorrow to thy father's house Thou art returned ? Zebah. Ask not of me, my mother, Enquire it of my father ! Tirzah. Hath he not O'erpass'd the Jabbok as a conqueror ? Hath he not met thee with a kind embrace ? Didst not thou go out with thy virgin-troop The first to meet him on his homeward way ? — "Woes me ! thy look shows some befortun'd sorrow ; Not thus thou wentest forth with song and harp. With step more light than that of mountain-roe, Thy cheeks as two bright beds of morning-flowers. Thy forehead crown'd with gladness and with joy; — Not thus thou left'st me to fulfil thine errand 48 JEPIITIIAH^S DAUGHTER, Of tenderest, sweetest, love — thou weepest now. And tears are on thy cheek ! Zebah. O mother, mother! I have offended ; — I have sinn'd ; — though free From self-reproach, unconsciously I have sinn'd, Against my father, and my God, and thee ; Oh, by a mothers love ! reveal wherein] I have offended — let me know the cause. That I may heal mine error, and recover Th' affections I have lost ! TiRZAH. Speak thou not thus. My child ! — conceive not, in thy soul's distress, Thoughts so unworthy of its purity ; Thou art not fallen in our most dear esteem, Hast suffered no abatement in our love ; Thou art all blameless ; and thy tenderness. By every act, but more and more deserves Richer returns from father and from mother Of corresponding sweet affection ; — If error hath befallen, 'tis not in thee — 'Tis in thy mother or thy father ; — Say What, in thy going out, hath happened thee So strange, to mar thy cheer so suddenly. To fill thine eyes with tears, thy sinless heart. With cruel accusations of thyself, A DRAMATIC POEM. 49 And me, thy mother, with such anxious fears ? Saw'st thou thj father ?— Did he give to thee The fatherly salute ? Zebah. I saw him — but he gave To me no fatherly salute ; his eye Appeared to loathe or disacknowledge me, His daughter, as I led the virgin -choir, And met him with the greetings of my song. His ears seem'd shut against our gratulations, His heart against communion with our joy ; He gave no sign of joyous interchange ; But stood estranged to me and to my gift, As if o'erpassioned, talking to his heart Of some unspeakable and secret grief That had wreck'd all his peace. TiRZAH. Thy cheek, Wet with the tears that his estrangement caus'd, Did he not kiss ? Zebah. Alack ! it was a kiss That sprang not out of joy, but melancholy, A kiss of separation, not of welcome, That seem'd to signify a sad farewell ; 'Twas ominous — as were the dreadful words That came with it, and sounded in mine ears D 50 jephthah's daughter. As terrible commands, forbidding me My father's sight forever ! TiRZAH Woe is me, My daughter ! some calamity hath touched Thy father's spirit ; — Be thou comforted ; — His soul's obscurity to-day will clear ; — But see, he comes — not cheerful as was wont, But sorrowful, his warrior-mantle rent. His head with ashes stain'd ; — Retire^ my daughter ! (Zebah tcithdraws — Jephthah approaches from the opposite side, J Leave me to meet thy father. TiRZAH. Hail to my lord. And welcome to his house ! Jephthah O woman, woman ! Bid me not hail, nor welcome to my house ! TiRZAH. What means my husband by these startling words ? Jephthah. Look on these staining ashes — on this robe Rent by my anguish — these will not announce That Jephthah to his home returneth happy ; If these are feeble to express the pang Gnawing within, this bitter flood of tears More plainly will reveal it. fHe weeps. J A DRAMATIC POEM. 51 TiRZAH. O my lord 1 Thy sorrow terrifies my soul — What pang, What sudden arrow of heav'n-sent afiliction Hath pierc'd thy peaceful spirit t Jephthah. Pity me ! It is not God's infliction — 'tis my own — Mine own — th' infliction of my own rash lips — The words of dreadful import have been utter' d ! TiRZAH. . What words, my lord ? Thou speak'st a riddle to me ! Jephthah. O these dire words ! which ne'er should have been utter'd, But now are seaFd — are seal'd indelibly In Time's black, awful, unforgiving book 1 TiRZAH, Still dost thou dissappoint me in thine answer, Nor let'st me be thy consort in thy sorrow ; O for mine own, thine, and thy daughter's sake. Admit me to the secrets of thy soul. Jephthah. My daughter ! — she is no longer mine nor thine — She is devoted — irredeemably Devoted — TiRZAH. By what vow, my lord, or where, Or when ? 52 JEPHTHAIl's DAUGHTER, Jephthah. By his, whose words admit of no recall, Her miserable father i TiRZAH. O my lord ! Jephthha. Tis past — 'tis seal'd ! TiRZAH. Forbid it, gracious heaven ! Jephthah. Would that I could undo it ! TiRZAH. By what act Irreparable, hast thou vow'd away Thy daughter from thine arms ? Jephthah. The utter'd words, Though hastily pronounced, were in their scope Enlarged, not narrow'd to that single issue, To which th' untoward falling- out hath led, — An issue unconjectur'd, unforeseen, But now, to me, my daughter, and my house. Stamped — irretrievable calamity ! O hapless was the hour, when, from her chamber. My daughter went to meet me gratulant ! Unblessed were the steps, that with her choir She took, to face me foremost in the dance ! She met me first, — and she has brought me low — She, gentle, loving, too, too-duteous child, Has brought her father low ! TiRZAH. How so, my lord ? — Her joy to see her father, in his triumph. A DRAMATIC POEM. 53 Urg'd, and made bold, her blushing modesty, To meet thee of her maiden-troop the first ; In this, lay ought of error ? Herein, chief, Did not she pay due honour ? Jephthah. In this — in this, — Too much she honour'd — she hath humbled me ; Yea, brought me very low ! For — I, alas, had open'd to the Lord My mouth, and in the day of battle, vow'd A vow to God, and said, that, if he should Deliver th' Ammonite into my hands. Then, whatsoever shall come forth to meet me From mine own house, when, from the battle, I Return in peace, shall surely be the Lord's ; And I, unto the Lord, shall offer it As his burnt-offering up ; — Thus, thus, alas ! I op*d my mouth, nor can I now go back. TiRZAH. O vow Cruel, calamitous to thee and thine ! Heedless and unreflecting was the heart That gender'd it ! Most rash and unadvised The lip that did pronounce it ! O my devoted, dear, death -doomed child ! My daughter ! how shall I acquaint thine ear With these oer whelming tidings of a woe 54 JKPirniAii's daughtkr, Tliat (loth belong to thee — and to thy mother — Thy father — and to all our house, — Alas ! To thee, my daughter, most ! \^iShe rushes out. SCENE III. House of the Priest, JEPinifAii, Priest. Jkputiiah. O thou, who with thine ears didst hear me pour, Amid the battles' bustle, the ru'd words, That now, alas ! as with a hedge of thorns, Circle me in, inextricably, with trouble, — Consider thou my souFs perplexity ; () weigh thou (if thou mayest,) in the scales Of mild interpretation, th' unweigh'd words That came, devoting, from a heart devout 1 The purpose was all-pious,— -O let not The consummation be a deed so harsh, Unfatherly, and sinning against piety, As ev*n in thought doth stagger so my soul ! Heav'n, who is merciful, may overpass A DRAMATIC POEM. * A non-fulfilment, and a meant neglect, Proceeding thus from mercy. Priest. Heav'n accepted, And Earth recorded, the free-proffer'd vow ; — It cannot be recalled — She is devoted — By thine own words, thy daughter is devoted Unto the Lord ! Jephthah. The words were undeliberate ; — Amid th' anxiety and crowd of war. Oast up to heaven in casual utterance. As token of acknowledgment to Him To whom belong war's issues ; — what was thrown Out from between the toeth, without forecast. And weigh' d premeditation of the heart — Can Heav'n approve ? and by severe and strict Interpretation, claim inexorably As due ? the shedding of a daughter's blood. As the completion of a parent's vow, From the rash-vowing parent ? Priest. In that law Given by the heav'n -taught Moses for our guide, The rashness of the vower enters not Into th* instruction, as of force to change. Affect, or nullify the law's award. The law enjoins not, recommendeth not, 56 jephthah's daughter, To any man, entangled howsoever In wars, or jeopardies, to make such vows As may infringe upon life's sacredness. Or desolate by death the family circle ; But, when such vows, how rash soe'er, are made, And are propounded with free voice to heav'n, The pledge, to heav'n proclaimed, must be fulfilled ; The law is rigid, without reference To wariness or forethought in the vower. Proclaiming, in its' plainness, loud and clear. That every thing devoted is most holy Unto the Lord ; "^ that none, who is devoted Of men, shall be by them redeem'd ; but shall Be surely put to death : These are the terms, Clear, simple, unencumber'd with exception, Of our most holy law. Jephthah. Ah, miserable ! Distracted thus — thus oppositely drawn. Between Loves' cords twin'd close about my heart. And the rude bonds my oath has laid upon me ! O whither, whither, shall I scape from anguish I On this side, perjury and breach of faith, Heav'n's execration, persecution, wrath. With man's deserv'd contempt, and contumely, * See Leviticus, chap, xxvii. ver. 28, 29. A DRAMATIC POEM. 57 Heap'd up upon me as a perjurer ; On that side, my dear daughter, mine own blood, My only child, mine and her mother's hope, By her own parent yielded as a victim. Falling beneath the sacrificer's knife ! Think not upon it, O my soul ! Priest. Go, prince Of Israel ! — fortify thy soul for this ; — Alas ! thine own mouth hath sore troubled thee ! SCENE lY. Tirzah's Chamber. Zebah, Tirzah. Zebah. Weep not, O mother ! 'Tis the hand of God Upon us and our house ! Tirzah. my child ! Had with his heavy hand God touched us, And, by disease or sickness, summoned thee To his own happy world, unmurmuring I Would have resigned into his mighty hand 58 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, Thee, whom his goodness had but lent to us ; — But thus, thus cruelly and haplessly, To be dragged off from thy griev'd mother s side A victim — to die thus ! — God of heaven 1 Thou, who art wont to send thine angels down T' encamp about the house of them that fear thee, And save them from their troubles, be thou nigh To us, that are of broken heart ! Give comfort To thine afflicted ! Zebah. To my father most, The faithful, who hath bound himself to heaven At his own blood's expense ! — Him, him may God Support in his soul's trial ! — -He hath sav*d His country ; God by him hath taken vengeance Of Ammon's children ; and his daughter dies A death of honour, the pact stipulated To Heaven, for triumph o'er his enemies ; And she will triumph in fulfilling it ; Not, in her glory, less than he whose spear Achieved the prize of battle. Fear not, mother ! God will support us ! TiRZAH. O my daughter ! thou Dost in thy meekness and submission give A lesson to thy parents too sublime : — O into me infuse thy spirit's calmness ; A DRAMATIC POEM. :)\) Teach me, thy mother, thy serenity ; T' endure the torturing thought of loss of thee ; To lose my solace in a world, thenceforth Made but a vale of tears by thy departure ; To hear thy harp-consorted voice no more ; To see the place where thou at table sat'st For ever empty, and to sit, alone And weeping-weary, in the happy chamber, Where thou wert wont to feast me with thy song ! Zebah. O mother, greater are Heav'n's sacred pleasures Than those that spring of frail humanity ! TiRZAH. Ah me ! The cares, and fears, and tears, and joys. And all a mother's first anxieties. In nurturing thee, her only, only stay. In fixing thy yet-tottering infant-steps. In watching thy fair virgin-growth, that seem'd A graceful olive twining round our wall — Her hope, who, in the coming eve of life, (She trusted), would support her faltering steps. And close her eyelids in her dying hour — All these fond thoughts and expectations Blasted, cut off — and desolation's gloom Hopelessly settling o'er a mother's heart ! 60 jephthah's daughter, Zebah. God v/ill compensate thee with other joys, My mother ! TiRZAH. Alas ! the House of Jephthah ! It alone, Amid the many thousand families Of Gilead and of Bashan that rejoice In Jephthah's victory — Jephthah's house alone Is struck with sadness and with misery 1 And, when the mothers of our land receive Their captiv'd daughters back again from his Victorious hand, their champion of deliverance, Who hath triumphed and led captivity Heroically captive — his own house, For country given away, instead of joy Is fiird with sorrow, his lone consort reft Of daughter, and the daughter suffering doom Beyond a captive's worst and cruellest ! Oh ! 'tis too much — a sacrifice beyond The capabilities and powers of Nature ! — Unhappy, unforethinking, unkind father, Beneficent to others, to his own Too reckless and unsparing ! Zebah. Spare, O mother ! These frettings ; spare thy consort, O BelovVl ! Let no untender or repining word A DRAMATIC POEM. 61 Fly forth against liim ; — That Id deed would be The worst and heaviest part of this our trial, Whereby th' Almighty proves us. TiRZAH. How may I, O child ! forbear to fret at him — ray husband — That doth unehild me ? was it not his mouth That spoke, uncall'd-for and unnecessarily, The death-charg'd words ? happy ! had he been But silent, and not, of his own accord. Chained himself down into such dire necessity, By a few winged words ejaculated Forth of the lip ! Thy father's silence, then. Had been our safety and our happiness ; And we, to-day, like Mizpeh's other mothers, Would have rejoiced : — But now, we are the sad ; They happy ! Zebah. Jephthah's house shall in its fame Flourish amid the families of Israel, When Mizpeh's mothers are uncelebrated : O let the thought of thy dear daughter's glory Sustain thee, mother, when, without her thou Walk'st through the Baca of this passing life. Onward and upward to thy God ! Tirzah. My child ! Sweet are thine answers, yet they do but more 62 jephthah's datjghter, Excite that sorrow, in thy mother's breast, Which, in thy goodness, thou wouldst fain repress : O, had it pleas'd my God ! (Heav'n pardon me If I do speak unwisely) that, instead Of thee my only child, thy mother had Advanced to meet thy father — had that vow FalFn but on me ! that so thou might'st have liv'd, I died ! Zebah. My mother ! let us not arraign The providence of Heaven ; — What hath befallen Hath fallen out in wisdom. TiRZAH. Nought for me, I see all round, but sorrow, sorrow, sorrow ; — O house, O walls, O chamber, weep for me ! Weep with me, and for me ! Maids of my house, Mothers of Mizpeh weep for me ! — Alas ! The suffering is too much ! Angels of Grace Support me 1 \_She SW0071S and falls into the ay^ms of her daughter. A DRAMATIC POEM. 63 SCENE Y. A Chamber, Zebah. Zebah. 'Tis stiird — the rage of grief ; — my mother s breast. Exhausted by her too much suffering, Beats calmer ; and, with words of consolation, I left her, sooth'd into tranquillity. Oh — now my heart is left unto itself, Flow, flow, my tears ; weep, weep, my streaming eyes, A flood of sorrow for my father's house. For my dear father, for my anguished mother, For me myself — Ah ! no, not for myself ; — To pour down tears of sorrow for myself, It were too weak, too like to a regret At the sad issue that involves my life ; And yet — they needs must come — fShe weeps J — Excuse, God! These tears of nature ; — they flow not from ought To thee rebellious, or thy Providence : — 64 JEPHTII All's DAUGHTER, I am prepared — I go — my victim-life Is ready, ready, for the sacrifice : And yet — to leave so soon my mucli-belov'd And loving parents, with their hearts all-torn By a departure unto them so sad ; To leave my sweet companions, with the whom So glad I climb'd the flow'ry hill of Life ; To leave this dear delicious light of God, His sun, and moon, and stars, and earth, and all His beauteous, boundless world, gipread round about me, The ocean of his glory, still inviting My young and ravish' d eyes to feed themselves With His most rich and unexhausted pleasures — To leave all these — to say. Farewell to these — To die so prematurely, ere I well Have known God, or his works ! (She iceeps.) Weep, weep, my heart — Yet sink not, O my heart ! Arouse thee — leave all these — leave father, mother, Companions, God's bright works, sun, moon, and stars. And, in exchange, take what excells them all, O take thy God himself ! — Rejoice then, heart, and take thy bliss in him ! — A DRAMATIC POEM. 65 'Tis fix'd — I am prepar'd — I go — my life Is ready, ready for the sacrifice ! Jephthah. (^who enters J T heard a voice — my daughter ! Zebah. O my father ! fShe embraces him. J Jephthah. She sinks into my arms — O thou most hapless ! At once the grief, and gladness of my soul, How canst thou thus embrace thy cruel father ? Zebah. Out of my filial tenderness and love, And to regain the kindness of that smile. That made me so o'er-blessed heretofore ; Look now upon me, father ! Jephthah. Spare, spare my child, These filial sweet caresses unto me. Of them so undeserving ! Zebah. Say not so, O father ! — thou deserv'st them mere and more. Art thou not he, whose champion-spear hath wrought Deliverance to thy country ? He who proved His patriot-spirit, by conditioning With Heav'n for victory, in terms which Heav'n, Accepting, hath now ratified and seal'd, By a completion rich to Israel Of glory ? 66 jephthah's daughter, Jephthah. Rich to Israel, to myself, Most desolating, making me poor of thee, The gem and jewel of thy father's house, My dear and only child ! Zebah. Ah, no ! thou hast Above the thousand daughters of our land Thy daughter's name and reputation raised : — Hast, by thy poising her in the same scale With Israel's victory o'er his enemies, Advanc'd her worth, made precious her esteem Above the rate of women : — She is now The gem and jewel of her father's house. Set and enchas'd within her country's glory, Unperishing, and excellent in brightness Beyond the gold of Uphaz. Jephthah. Thy filial love, O daughter ! doth too much enravish thee, — It makes thy dutiful and lenient soul Too much forgiving of thy father's error, — Or, shall I call it error, or misfortune. Or crime — that rued, and rash, and rapid act. Which, though compris'd in a few moments' space. Is yet most durable in its infliction. Has struck a sword into my house's peace, Made my lone house a wilderness for ever. A DRAMATIC POEM. 67 Robb'd me of thee, and brought — Fly back my soul. Approach not the sad sequel — 'tis too full Of ghastliness to think of ! — Would I could Make void my pledge's terms, and, stead of thee. The innocent, dear, daughter, substitute The lost and erring father ! would that Heaven Would forego the strict claim, and take, in mercy, Me, the de\^oting, for the sad devoted. Me, who deserve, for her, the undeserving ! Zebah< O father ! in thy sorrow tempt not Heaven With quer'lous thoughts, most near to fretfulness : Ev'n from my father's mouth, I may not hear Words that accuse my father ; He must be Unblam*d, ev'n by himself ; his aim, his act, Held honourable, just, and virtuous, Flowing from country's love, and, by th' event, Link'd in with country's triumph : — 'tis to me That lustre all accrues, — I fall triumphant Upon the altar of my country, fall A sacrifice, illustrious by the glory That hath o'erpaid and overbalanc'd it. Then, grieve not, father ! rather joy with me At an adjustment, and a latter end, Crown'd with a garland of such lofty honour, — 68 JEPHTn All's daughter, Thou hast unto the Lord opened thy mouth ; Do to me, then, according to the word Which hath proceeded from thy mouth ; prepare Altar and altar's implements, and all The fitments seemly for the sacrifice ; Lead forth thy daughter to her scene of glory ; She is prepared ; she goes with thee not loath. But willing ; and her own untrembling feet Shall carry her to the altar. Jephthah. O thou spirit Sublime ! devotedly magnanimous ! Who, in thy maiden meekness and thy youth, Mak'st thy self-chastis'd father yield before thee. And do thee homage, as a mind not earthly. Soft as thy sex, but, as an angel, firm, O how shall I accost thee ? Shall I call Thee, Daughter ? Is it thou, whom, with a few Swift-utter'd words, I have so thrown away ? O is it thou, who must — so soon — alas ! Be yielded up — and, by a father's hand, As a thing forfeited and due ? So much Of sweet endearment and of excellence ! Zebah. Yet father, ere the offering be completed, One thing I beg — let it be done for me — 'Tis but short respite for the sake of love. A DRAMATIC POEM. 69 Jephthah. Speak, O my angel-child ! Thou art to me As Urim ; and the bidding of thy words Is as the chiming voice of oracle, That ravishes the ears unto obedience. Zebah. Ere that be done to me, which hath pro- ceeded Out of thy mouth, allow me for a space. Attended by my fellows, Mizpeh's maids, Friends of my youth, and co-mates of the choir, To walk on Mizpeh's mountains up and down, And sing our virginal sweet Farewell-song Unto the woods, and hills, and fountains clear, Aye intermixing^: tender lamentations For my lost hopes, and my virginity. Jephthah. Be it according to thy wish and word, High-minded child ! — for thou hast conquer d me ; And, even against thyself, I am all thine. JEPIITHAH S DAUGHTER. ACT lY. SCENE I, Chamher, Zebah, Nurse. Zebah. O thou, who in thy bosom once did carry, And cherish me, a child— guide of my steps I And trainer of my spirit, to whose ears I did commit my every childish care, And childish want, which were so readily Ans\yer'd by thee, with motherly affection — Assist me now, thou faithful one ; — again I need thy kindly heart, and helpful hand, Though not, as heretofore, t* abet the joy And schemes of playful childhood ; — Childhood's days Are over, and their pleasing pastimes gone ; New days now roll upon us other duties. And call up other and more serious thoughts. Nurse. My Child, (for by that name, both from my love A DRAMATIC POEM. 71 And foster-privilege, I do address thee,) Thou, who didst sleep an infant in my bosom. And whom, in thy j^oung spirit's amiableness, Mine eyes, admiringly, have watch' d and followed, Ev'n to this hour, when I behold thee sad And cumbered with the dire calamity. That hath befallen thy father and his house — O inauspicious vow ! O fatal issue ! — — Accursed be the hour when Gilead's chiefs Dragged forth thy father from the tran(][uil land Of Ishtob, to take up his spear for them. And fight their battle out, that they might live Quiet amid their sunny vales, whilst he, He and his house, disquieted, convuls'd, Should — 'Worse than die 1 Zebah. Spare, spare, I pray, these words That strike at heaven ; — It is not fit that we Should fret as sinful murmurers, and say To Providence, Thy issues are untoward ! 'Tis ours to be obedient, and comply As God directs the current. Nurse. God himself. My daughter, doth forbid not our regrets, Our struggles to stem up the counter-current. 72 jephthah's daughter. When Prudence justifies and gives an aim :-— — O was it then for this— an end like this- — So unexpected, cruel, terrible. That I have in my bosom carry'd thee, Tended thy pillow in thy infant slumbers. Fed thee with honey and with milk, train'd up Thy lisping tongue to syllable the name Of God, thy heart to marvel at his works, Taught thy fair feet to vary forth the dance, Thy fingers to call music from the harp ? All, all, for this, a termination hateful, Abhorr'd, as most unsightly, and unpiteous, For eye to look upon, or heart to think I — - — O thou my daughter, dearer unto me Than is the blood now fluttering fearfully About my aged heart — hearken to me — List to my love-urg'd counsel — Flee these walls — Thy father, kindred, country, flee them all — Escape man's cruelty — get thee away Up to the mountains, and the forest-shades ; There lurk — there save thee 'mong the forest-beasts, And live unharm'd, forgetful of thy father. And reckless of his vow. Zebah. Where a vovv's pledge A DRAMATIC POEM. 73 Has solemnly been given before the Lord, How faithless and unholy to infringe The vow in faith thus given ! Nurse. Tis piety, Where the fulfilment's fraught with inhumanity. In thee to be unpious ; — 'Tis the end, That characters the whole preliminaries, And where the sequel is a thing abominable, Too hideous to be nam*d, the leading acts, Though simple in themselves, yet, from that bad And barb'rous consequence they introduce. Borrow a barbarous and a bloody tinge. Zebah. Where man with God hath bargained for the good Of his afflicted country, and that good Hath followed on the bargain's terms, 'tis just That man should, what he cov'nanted, fulfill ; He stands a bounden debtor to his God. Nurse. High Heav'n, my child, in dealing forth success, Doth not on such low terms make covenant With man, his creature ; what our God bestows, He giveth freely, like himself in grace, Without the bondasre of such mean conditions. / 4 JEPHTIIAH S DAUGHTER, Zebah. God's perfect laT^, to IsraeFs sons tlie guide, Consign'd for sureness to the brass and stone^ Commands, that what of men shall be devoted By man unto the Lord, shall be most holy, And shall, as such, to him be offered up. Nurse. God's law of mercy, by his own wise hand Engraved for sureness on the human heart, Forbids, that man, by deeds unmerciful, Should honour him whose mercy shine th forth His darling and eternal attribute. Zebah. Mercy is mighty, and shines glorious forth Yf hen not out- faced by a mightier claim ; When world-controlling Justice rears his voice, She yields, in modest silence, from her suit. Nurse. Mercy, my child, upon a theme like this. Will never yield ; stern Justice back will shrink, And hazard not himself and his awards, By a too harsh enforcement, that may shake Among mankind his fair authority, — Flee therefore, O my child ! Forget thy father. Forget his vow ! Zebah. A father s sway extends, A DRAMATIC POEM. 75 O'er all the life and conduct of liis children. When he commands, they must obey ; so long As they abide beneath paternal roof. They must be passive to paternal rule. Nurse. When fathers ask of unoffending children Things against which Man's ripened heart revolts, Ev'n to the sure destruction of themselves In their own blood, 'tis righteous to rebel ; 'Tis^wisdom in the child, then to withstand ; And stubbornness is kindness towards him 'Gainst whom it is rebelled — Flee, then, my child ! Escape thy father, and thy father's house ! Zebah. O thou the guide, and guardian of my youth ! I hear thee, yet assent not to thy words ; In vain thou plead'st ; in vain thou, in thy love, Essay'st to tutor me in this new law Of disobedience to a father's will ; As if his honour, and a daughter's love. And life, were set in strife and opposition. Ah, no — His honour, which is greater, is as mine ; My life, which is the less, is his ; they both Are as of one, and so accord together. That, to fill up the measure of the greater. 76 jephthah's daughter, The lesser willingly doth yield itself. There is no strife and no repugnancy ; I yield myself, not backward, but in joy, As one, whose life hath cheaply purchased • Her country's glory, and shall firmly seal Her father's faithfulness. — Essay not, then, To stay me, thou, whose voice's honour'd sound Thy daughter hitherto has e'er obey'd ; 'Gainst Heaven thou can'st not sway me ; herein I Must be triumphant ev*n o'er thee — O suffer And pardon, then, that here I disobey thee — It is the first — 'twill be the last — forgive This, this, my only disobedience 1 (She falls on her neck,) Nurse. Thou killest me, my child ! O cease such words — I am subdued — I will no longer plead ; — To thy affectionate and ardent spirit I render up myself ; — Yet still to me, Unfold, as to thy friend, thy thoughts ; — Be that Now, now, my only suit. Zebah. Ere that my father Shall do to me according to his vow, I go, with his allowance and fair will, To Mizpeh's mountains, I and my co-mates. A DRAMATIC POEM. 77 The fellow-songsters of that virgin-choir, That met my father in his homeward-march ; — There up and down the mountains, 1 and thej. Free-footed, will, with song and psaltery, Walk in the dewy morn, at sunny noon, And shadow -lengthening eve, beside the rills. And founts, or underneath the fir-tree's shades, — A new, sad, band of mountain-choristers, Making the mountain-hollows to respond In long, sweet echoes, to our lengthen'd notes Of lamentation, whilst I sing my wail Over my father's lost and wither'd hopes — His wither'd hopes — and my sweet tender youth Cut ojQf from blessing with fresh shoots his house. Go, then, my faithful dame !— of mine intent Apprise my dear companions, Atarah, Miriam, and Shelomith, and Abigail, Ahijah's fair-hair d daughter Arubah, Mahlah and Milcah, and the other maids. My playmates on the Jabbok's- flowery banks ; Bid them put on their simplest, lightest, robes. Their mountain-mantles, their sun-bafiiing veils,' Their mountain-sandals, best to guard their steps Amid the rocky summits ; bid them take In hand their timbrels, harps, and psalteries. iQ JEPHTHAH S DAL GHTER, That we may well accompany our song With the struck cliime of many-sounding strings. To-morrow, ere the day-star shall be hovering O'er Amnion's hills, be they prepared to join My steps, forth -coming from my father's house, To Mizpeh's eastern gate. There let us meet, And thence, ascending, take our bill-ward way. Beneath the sweet beams of the morning-star. Nurse. To one not slow or slothful to fulfil Thy will, thou dost communicate this charge ; To-morrow, ere the star of dawn be risen. Thy partners shall be gather d at the gate. Zebah. Thou too, dear dame, be there; — Till then, farewell ! Nurse. Till morn, farewell, my bosom-cherish'd child ! The God of Jacob be thy comforter ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 79 SCENE II. The Eastern Gate of Mizpeh. Nurse, Zebah, and the Choir of Damsels. Nurse. (Advajicing to the gate) Watchman, that keep'st the city ! from thy tower Where, during the night-watches, thou dost stand, Descend ! Watchman. (From above) What damsel-train, in goodly robes Appareird, comes so early hitherward, Streaking the public way, as down they pass. With a long, liying, line of lovely light ? Speak, friends, that I may know you ! Nurse. We are come On errand from the city, and entreat, That thou wouldst push aside the bars of brass That cross thy gates, and open unto us Free way to Mizpeh's mountains. Watchman. The day-star As yet hath hardly clomb the lowest step Of Heaven's steep ladder, and the city-gate, At this star-lighted hour, doth hesitate To troul upon his hinges. 80 jepiithah's daughter, Nurse. Not of us Be thou distrustful, watchman ! — we are bent To seek the mountains at this dewy hour, To see the morning-sun up-shoot his horns From Midian's eastern wilderness, to mark The family of stars die out of Heaven, To spy th' illumination of the world Before th' Almighty's servant, him who walks With steps of glory round the universe. T' inbreathe the mountain-fragrance, and to sing Our choral song to Heaven — Not, then, of us Be thou distrustful, Watchman ! Open thou To us thy gates ! Watchman. C Descends and opens the gate..) Daughters of song ! I ope To you the gates ; pass through, ye sister-songsters ! Behold, the stars invite you ; yonder East, Where Heav'n is knit to Earth, begins to gleam With day's young light; — Lo ! Heav'n and Eartl invite ^ou ! Go, get ye to the mountains, then, of myrrh ; Ascend, ye fair ! the hills of frankincense ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 81 SCEXE III. The Mo7intams of Gilead, Zebah, and the Choir of Damsels. 1. CAll) Behold ! the morning, in its spread, Makes Hermon's dewy summits red ; The vales, that sleep below in mist. Are by the rising radiance kiss'd ; I see them, mountain, valley, flood. Rejoicing in the light of God ! 2. (Zebah alone.) Fields, forests, mountains, valleys, ring With joy, and loud their anthem sing ; But I5 that wander all -forlorn, Take up my weeping here, and mourn ; I mourn my parents, and their state Of hope now reft, and desolate ! F 82 jephthah's daughter, 8. (The Choir.) O happy hero, had thy tongue Been prudent, as thy heart was strong I O hapless hero ! hopeless now. And childless rendered by thy vow ! A word thy greatness low hath laid ; And dreary-waste thy dwelling made. 4. (Zebah alo7ie.y In hope my father forth did go, To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; Without a hope, though rich in fame« Back to his house, the hero came ; His house's hope, his house's stay, He vow'd unto his God away ! 5. {AIL) Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; Respond, O Bashan's every vale, In echoes to our woeful wail ; Fountains, and forests, join our grief, For Mizpeh's maid, and Gilead's chief! A DRAMATIC POEM. SCENE lY. Another part of the Mountains of Gilead. 1. {AIL) A many-marching troop we be, Of melancholy minstrelsy ; Now up the mountains wend we slow, Now down into the valleys go ; From height to hollow, den to dale. We wend and wander in our wail ! 2. The grottoes in the mountains steep Are the night-chambers where we sleep ; The pine-trees shade at noon we make The couch where cool repose we fake ; Around the founts we build our bowers, To save us from the mountain-showers. 84 jephthah's daughter. 3. As round we range in mournful mood, The mountain-berries are our food ; We pluck the fruitage fresh and free, From the wild fig and olive-tree ; And, from the rill that trickles near, We drink the waters sweet and clear. 4. (Choir op Damsels.) Like doves of the far valleys, we Upon the dewj mountains be ; Each of us mourning her we love, Our sister, sweetest turtle-dove ; Each of us mourning, long and loud. Him, who so fatally hath vow'd ! 5. (Zebah alone.) In hope my father forth did go. To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; Without a hope, though rich in fame. Back to nis house the hero came ; His house's hope, his house's stay. He vow'd unto his God away ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 85 6, (All) Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; Respond, O Bashan's every vale ! In ecboes to our woeful wail; Fountains, and forests ! join our grief, For MizpeVs maid, and Gilead's chief! SCENE Y. Grove in the Mountains of Gilead, Choir of Damsels. 1. As shoots the citron, blossom-crown' d, The fairest tree in forest-ground, So MizpeVs maid, to every view, The blossom of our city grew ; Her mother saw with gladden'd eyes, Her shape of comely beauty rise. Si} jephthah's daughter, 2, Her father's heart joy'd secretly Her sweet unfolding bloom to see. His only plant, he saw her shout. With promise and rich hope of fruit ; He forward look'd to years, when bliss From children's children should be his ■: 3. Alas ! these golden hopes are shorn ; The tree of promise up is torn ; His house, with shouts of joy that rang, Nov/ suffers under sorrow's pang ; Toss'd on her couch, the mother weep&j The father gloomy silence keeps. 4. (Zebah alone.} In hope my father forth did go, To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; Without a hope, though rich in fame^ Back to his house the hero came ; His house'"s hope, his house's stay, He vow'd unto his God away 1 A DRAMATIC POEM, 87 5. (AIL) Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; Respond, O Bashan's every vale \ In eclioes to our woeful wail ; Fountains, and ft)rests ! join our grief, For Mizpeh's maid, and Gilead's chief ! ACT Y. SCENE I. The Norther 71 Gate of Mizpeh. Watchman, Nurse, Zebah, and Choir. Watchman. What train be these, in damsel- raiments dress'd. With long, green branches in their hands, seen waving In the clear moonshine, hitherward that come Down the steep northern road that slopeth up To Gilead's mountain ? Speak, night- wandering train ! That I may know you ! Nurse. Watchman, on thy tower That standest all night long to keep the city ! 8 8 jephthah's daughter. Descend thou, and unbolt thy guarded gates. That we may enter. AYatchman. The wayfaring men, Familiar to the desert, that all day Have jaded out their journey to the sun, Already have pass'd through — the vintager And labour- weary'd hind, now cabin'd sit Within their reed-roof d houses — all that seek The city, or for safety, or for rest, Are enter'd ; — who, then, ye, O damsel-train ! So tardy, that have over-timed the hour That shuts the city-portals ? Nurse. We are come Down from the mountains, where, a season, vve Have been with thoughtful footsteps wandering. Singing upon their summits, and within Their greenwood hollows, both to heav'n and earth, Our plaintive song, expressive of the theme That burdens our sad hearts. Watchman. The moon hangs high ; And the rich dew falls heavily; — this hour Is late for the wayfarer. Nurse. We have chosen This hour, the bright, the quiet, and the cool. When the throng'd city-gates have ceas'd their noise A DRAMATIC POEM. 89 Of thoroughfare and business, to pass in Silent and unregarded ; — open, then, To us, O watcher ! that again we may Be greeted in our houses. Watchman. (Opens the gate,) Enter in Ye minstrels of the mountains ! that have been Singing your songs of lamentation To heaven, and earth, expressive of the theme That burdens your sad hearts ; — Enter, and greet • Your friends, and be ye greeted in your houses 1 SCENE II. Chamber. Zebah. (Alone.) Zebah. After a sweet short slumber, I awake :- The sun yet keeps his eastern cave, but Night Is nearing to the world's great western gate Through which she seeks the sea ; — It is the hour AYhen the hir'd labourer doth unfold his hands For yet one slumber ; whilst the virtuous matron, 90 jephthah's daughter, Girding iier loins witli strength, dispenses food. By her lamp's early light, unto her household. And portipns out the day-tasks to her maidens ; — It is the hour, too, when the watchful sage. In love with wisdom, courts her by the light Of the Day-star, his lamp, whose brighter beam, Amid a field of lustres numberless, Directs him to his Maker ; — fittest hour For meditation, and soul-arming thought Against Time's various stirring incidents. Toils, trials, duties, of th' approaching day. — O thou, my soul ! thou hast to-day thy toils, To-day thy last great duties, and thy trials ; Be not disquieted ; encounter them ; Enwrap thee in thy conscious virtue ; make Thy stay, thine own nobility of purpose ! Be Heaven thy hope, when thou quit'st hold of Earth ; Be God thy comforter, in th' arms of Death ! The day that dawns shall be thy day of glory ; A day not unrenown*d to Jacob's sons ; In future times, the daughters of our land. On mountains, and in valleys, in their songs Shall of thy name make honourable mention. As one, that, with her short, frail life, did buy Her country's and her father's lasting triumph. A DRAMATIC POEM. 91 O arm thee, then, mj soul, to take tliy last Farewell of all this world ! — fair though it be, Tis but an out-field of God's bright creation ; A better world awaits thee ; — Fear thou not, Towards that much-fairer land, th' Almighty's home. To wing thy flesh -uncumberd, happy way ; Happy the more from being premature ; — Too soon we cannot be unclogg'd of earth. And taste eternal joys I — But soft — I hear The sound of gentle footstep — 'tis the tread Of one — my trusty servant — whom I bade Attend my chamber, at this early hour. For my behests — 'tis she — f Servant enters J The peace of heaven Be with thee, faithful one ! Thou timest well The over-night's appointment. Servant. May the grace And blessing from on high abide with thee. Thou daughter of my lord ! I stand before thee Submissive to thine orders. Zebah. In apt hour Thou comest ; — -Yet is heard the din of men In Mizpeh's streets ? Servant. Deep silence sitteth yet On Mizpeh's house-roofs, and within her streets ; 92 jephthah's daughter, The mill-stone sleepetli idle on the hearth Unwhirl'd, nor utters yet his lively sound ; The grinder's morning-song is yet unsung ; And not a creaking hinge is heard to move. Letting day-labourer forth. Zebah. 'Tis a meet time For wafting forth such messages as mine ; Go then, thou faithful bosom ! unto whom I thus entrust my secretest resolves ; Steal, in thy veil, forth from my father's house, And, passing thorough Mizpeh's silent streets. Seek thou the habitation of the priest. Where, lone and over-arch'd by branching trees, It stands beside the city- wall : — Address To him the words wherewith I charge thine ear ; Bid him put on his breast-plate, and his robes For beauty and for glory eminent. For this good day requires his ministry ; Bid him prepare his altar, and with it The sacrificial fire, and implements Subservient to the work of sacrifice ; Have them all forth, and ready by the time The sun at highest rides ; — for, at that hour, The victim, in her robes and fillets dress'd, Shall stand at th' altar by his side, prepar d. A DRAMATIC POEM. 03 The just and willing offering due to Heaven ! Go then, O dear and faithful heart ! bear thou These my commands in secrecy, and seaFd Ev'n from the people of my father's house ; Nor let thy footsteps tremble, or be backward In this thy trusted mission. Servant. Ah, sad errand ! My fearful feet, indeed do hesitate ; And yet, my duteous heart, engaged to thee, O daughter, urgeth me to its fulfilment. Farewell !| SCENE III. Chamber, Jephthah, Sholmi. Jephthah. Man of my peace ! thou who hast shar'd my joys. And tasted of my griefs, support me now In my extremest sorrows : — I have stood With thee in battle's terriblest assaults, Unshaken, though the arrow and the spear Were levell'd at my bosom ; but the griefs 94 JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, Of fchis impendiDg conflict weigh me down, And make me roll in ashes. Sholmi. Would to God I had a balm for such soul-piercing wounds ! I look around me wide for remedy, In vain ; — I cast about for some device, In vain ; — some scheme to free thee from the net Of misery, self-wrought, self-spread, wherein Thy momentary speech hath tangled thee ! Jephthah. 'Tis fix'd my friend 1— Cruel Necessity Hath shut us in, within her iron arms ; Alas ! my faith stands sponsor for the issue ; The law with peremptory tone exacts ; The priest unwillingly, with trembling lips, Expounds the altar's claims ; and Mizpeh's people, Deeply commov'd 'tween a religious sense Of th' obligation of that awful vow. And pity for th' event that needs must follow As its completion, stand perplex'd, confus'd. Anxious, yet fearful for the deathful close. No light — no hope — no possibility Appears of an escape ; — Religion, Law, And Honour, all conclude, — My Child must die ! Sholmi. O word of horrid utterance — name it not! A DRAMATIC POEM. 95 Jephthah. Heav'n is imperious — Would to God I too Could name it not — could never think of it. But as a thing impossible, too dire For a dear father's acting ! Sholmi. Yet, methinks, Yet, jet., perhaps (would we could compass it !) The deed of blood, the last, the frightful act. Of impious law-requirement, may by thee Be blamelessly forborne. Jephthah. Alas ! my friend, Heav'n, human virtue, faith, lift up the voice Against the non-fulfilment. Sholmi. Let us strain That virtue to the very farthest verge, Ev'n overpass the strictness of it*s limit, That such an act, to virtue so abhorrent, 'Gainst which the voice of Nature is so mutinous, May, in its homicidal, black performance. Be, happily, if but in any wise. Made by prevention void : — Thy daughter walks A mourner on the mountains ; — Let her there Tarry, a stranger to her father's city, A stranger to the valleys — there unseen. Obscure, unsought, and undiscoverable. 96 jephthah's daughter, Live she, a mountain-nymph ; and, in her absence, Let the law's claim, fraught black with cruelty, Die, in approved forge tfulness, away. So may thine honour, and thy plighted faith. Be unimpeach'd, and thy dear daughter's blood Pollute not Mizpeh's altar. Jephthah. Mean, my friend. Were such evasion, for myself inglorious, And hateful to the noble soul of her Whose life my hasty mouth hath jeoparded. She, of clear honour, and unwavering truth, But for a time made her retire ; nor now Stays she aloof, suspicious, and afraid T' entrust her life within her father's gates, Confiding in the mountain's solitude For her protection ; but, her purpose done Of lamentation, to her father's gates Hath she committed her dear life again ! Sholmi. O fearless bosom ! and magnanimous ! How dost thou shame us in our wish to form Escapes to rescue thy so-precious life, A life the more deserving to be rescued. The more thou undervaluest it, and seek'st To sacrifice it to thy father's honour ; Well are we justify'd in scheming means A DRAMATIC POEM. JJ i Even over virtue's limitary line, To save a soul so noble ! Jephthah. Alas! too vain The virtuous scheme — within her father's house My daughter sits ; — the moon had, yesternight, Traveird not far in heaven, when in my court I heard the clang of many psalteries — She and her fellow-minstrels, with their harps, Singing her home arrival to the ears Of me and her sad mother ; we, with weeping, Within her chamber, greeted her ; our hearts, Suspended in a wild distraction, hung 'Tween joy and grief ; but yet the heavy grief O'erweighed th' uncertain joy ; and all the night Tears were her father's and her mother's food : We wept — but she was calm, and shed no tears ; And, ever and anon, her voice was heard. During the still night-watches, to her harp Singing, with gentle and night- thrilling tones, Her ditty, soothing -soft, and melancholy. Sholmi. Sweet solace ! token of a tranquil mind, Feeding itself on thoughts of pleasantness ! Jephthah. Mid such tranquillity of soul, she hath, • In consultation with her heart alone. 98 jephtiiah's daughter, Arrang'd the fatal doings of to-day ; Ere break of morn the priest had been apprised Of her resolve, and order' d to prepare His altar, with its fires and implements, For her forthcoming at the hour of noon ; When, with her father to surrender her, She should appear, and give her life away, Before the eyes of her assembled country, As to her country sold and stipulated. These are my daughter's doings and designs, Now to her father, and her father's house Imparted, as determinate and fix'd Beyond recall — a covenant compact 'Tween her and Mizpeh's altar. Sholmi. Woe the while ! Alike we mourn the sorrow-charg'd result Of that resolve, as we admire and laud The magnanimity from whence it springs ! Jephthah. Thus hath she all dispos'd, with'placid care. And unconcern'd, as if she were not doom'd To be the chief transactor in the scene. But, in degree as she is undisturb'd, So is her hapless mother agitated, — A DRAMATIC POEM. 0^9 So is lier hapless father's bosom rack'd With double pain, as being both the cause Of all this boundless family-suffering. And fellow-suff'rer, too, from loss of her. Now, as her self-appointed hour rolls on, As the sun mounts, ascending tow'rds the point Of fatal consummation, so ascends A father's deep distress and strife of soul. On one side drawn by Nature's sweetest cords Tow'rds his beloved offspring, on another Dragged back, and tortur'd by the iron grasp Of an opinion-sprung, yet tyrant, power, 'Gainst Nature cruel and implacable. Assist me, then, my friend ! — Amidst this sea Of suffering, let at least the willing hand Of thy condoling friendship under me Be flung, to bear my spirit up, whenas Their former props of consolation faiL In vain I look to Heaven ; Heaven seems to frown In wrath upon me, even v/hen, to fulfil To the least scruple my vow-sanction d debt, I overstrain our weak humanity, And outrage Nature to appease the Law. In my own heart in vain I seek relief, 100 JEPllTlf All's DAUGHTER, For there, from thought to thought repelFd and toss'd, A double torment haunts my restless soul. Oh, pity me, my friend ! — 'Tis terrible — This tumult of the spirit, this wild agony ; — Methinks the day-light darkens in mine eyes, Before my grief, and, as the bright hours mount, Their glory blackens ! \^A sound of harps and voices heard from below. Hark ! again I hear The clang of harps — 'Tis of the virgin-choir, Mustering to meet my daughter in the court — The last, sad, meeting ! — let us hence, my friend — And join below the mourning minstrel -train,^ — Sad mourners also we ! — A DRAMATIC POEM. 101 SCENE IT. The Court in the middle or enclosed part of Jephthah*s House, TiRZAH, Zebah, Jephthah, Sholmi, Nurse, Choir OF Damsels. Tirzah {entering,^ supported hy her damsels.) {To the Damsels,) Sustain me, my dear maidens ! aid my steps A little onward to the oli re-tree ! — (^To her daughter.) O daughter ! from my chamber. at the call Of thine entreaty, and th' inciting chime Of these thy minstrels' many-quiring harps, I come — with heavy heart — to see thy face, And hear again thy sweetly- warbling tongue, Beneath the olive planted by thy sires. To screen their children's children in its shade — I come — but, ah ! — why see I thy fair form So chang'd, thy customed garments laid aside i What mean these ominous habiliments 102 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, New to mine eye and strange, this head attire Of fillets compassing thy beauteous brows, This suit of dire apparel ? — Oh ! too plain Methinks they speak — thou needest not to tell Thy mother, who hath dress'd her daughter thus. Or what the fearful import of this change ! I see, I see the issue 1 Zebah. Grieve thou not^ O mother ! nor misdeem thou in thy grief ! These be the marriage -garments, w"'herein I To-day, before the face of Israel, Shall marry'd be to glory 1 TiRZAH. Ah ! that thought Too, too divinely for thy mother's peace Enraptures thee, my child ! — 'Gainst such unble^t Espousals, doth thy mother with these sobs Make loud reclaim, nor ever shall her hand Give thee away, though willing of thyself, Into a glory so obnoxious : Oh ! canst thou part from me, my dearest child ? Oh 1 can thy father, he who gave thee life. He, whose imprudent and o'erhasty lip Hath, without reason, without cause, drawn down All this tremendous ruin on our house, Can he abet these doings, or applaud A DRAMATIC POEM. 103 This thy resolv'd devotedness ? — Can he, Guard of thy life, escort thee to the death, Bestow thee, in thy guiltlessness, into Spousals so full of guilt, and so abhorr'd ? Oh ! can he tear thee from thy mother's arms For ever ? Jephthah. Spare, O consort ! spare these shafts Of too just crimination : — this vex*d heart Too much already has begnaw'd itself.. To merit such dire rackings from without. Leave, leave my bosom to its torturing self; Sufficient for my fault its own remorse. Tirzah. Thou feel'st but as a father — v\^ere thy love Keen as a mother's — her's who, on her breast. Bore the dear child, a portion of herself. And fashioned forth of her own blood and substance, Thou would'st not thus, with dull indifference, O'erlook'd her separation — seen her led Ev'n from the shadow of thy father's olive. Where thou a child wert wont to play in safety — Led by her father to the hideous place, Caird by herself of glory, but by me. Her mother, calFd a daughter's murd 'ring -place ! Oh, no ! she shall not — Is she not my child ? 104 jephthah's DALGIITER5 Did not my womb conceive her ? Lay she not A suckling in my bosom ? — Thine alone She is not — she is mine, her mother's too — Ask her of me — beseech me to give up The dear, dear treasure of which half is mine — Beseech my heart for her destruction — beg The daughter s life, an only daughter's life, From her much-loving mother ! Jephthah, O that Heaven Had shut mine ears up in eternal silence. Ere through their portals such afflicting words Had pass'd unto my heart ! — Be merciful To me, my consort ! 'Tis not I that ask Thy daughter from thy side — 'Tis Faith, 'tis Justice, 'Tis Israel's expectation, it is Heaven — TiRZAH. Cover not, husband, with such hallow'd words A deed, the huge enormity of which Faith, Justice, Heaven, repudiate — God's bright sun Will not shine out upon it ! Oh ! 'tis thou— Thou art the cause — thine oath — (Heaven frown not on me For this large freedom of my lip) — thine oath. That wicked, most unwise, child-killing oath ! — A DRAMATIC POEM. 105 — Bear me, my maidens ! — Uphold my tottering frame, till I do speak A mother s mind, and utter it thus loud Into the ears of all my husband's household, To this bright Sun, to Israel, to Heaven, That, in the name of Mercy, Nature, Love, A mother's love, I do disclaim these doings ; Reject, and fling from me, with due abhorrence This unpaternal, impious, sacrifice. This, this, my husband's blood-burnt-offering ! So may my God, my comforter, regard me ! Jephthah. And I — most wretched father ! may my God Admit me too into his consolations ! I that do need them most, as most the cause. — Uphold me, O my friend ! (To Sholmi) — let thy kind arm Proj) me amid this anguish. Zebah. (Addressing her Mother,) Spare, O mother ! I do conjure thee, by a daughter's love. If I was ever dear to thee, if now Most dear and most admitted to thy heart, As being soon to pass and travel hence, — Have mercy on a father s broken heart, 106 jephthah's daughter, (Already full, and crowded with its trouble !) As thou would*st wish to see me ever happy, Speak thou not that which can alone disturb That happiness with dread of your disunion ! O break not up, with soul-exciting words That peace, that blissful calmness, into which Th' Almighty God hath settled my glad soul, And let our parting be an hour of Love ! {To her Father.) Be thou consol'd, O Father! — 'tis not thou. It is Religion, Faith-— 'tis I myself, 'Tis my own love of country, and of Truth, That bear me forth, triumphant, clad in glory. Of which these altar- vestments are the type. Forth to my stage, the high-place of my triumph. Where this mortality shall fall, but where My spirit, tli' immortality, emerged From its engrossing cover, shall ascend Up on it's altar-flame to God and Heaven ! One thing I wish, ere I relinquish earth, One charge I as my last commit to you. Which, as ye love me, care not to pass by — O father ! be my mother dear to thee, Aye dear, as in my early childhood-days ; Because she lov'd her daughter, cherish her, A DRAMATIC POEM. 107 That, in her husband's strong affection, She may find solace, from her daughter s loss : (To her Mother,) O mother ! be my father dear to thee, Still dear, as when the husband of thy youth 1 He lov'd his daughter much, and for that love, He gave her to be greatly glorilied. Set her on high, his country's triumph-price : — And, when the thought of me in after-times Comes o'er your souls, think not of me as perished, Departed, lost, unto my father's house ; Believe me ever present, count on me In chamber, and in field, as your companion. Your bosom -comforter and secret friend : Nor say. Our daughter thus hath dyd — but say, Our daughter lives eternally ; she hath Before us mounted to tK Almighty s ]palace ; T* enjoy her jubilee of bliss and glory ! Sholmi. (^Aside.) O happy parents ! to have such a child ! Hapless, oh hapless ! to be reft of such ! \_A sound of trumpets is heard from without, Zebah. Hark 1 'tis the trumpet sounds ! I know its speech, — it bids me hie away — 108 jephthah's daughter, It says, the hour is come, when gathered Israel Stands ready waiting for the sacrifice ; I come, I come — O mother ! may our God Apply the bahii of solace to thy heart ! — Stay, stay these tears — yet let me hear thy voice, In one farewell, one kind eternal blessing — One dear and last salute. (Kisses her.) TiRZAH. O my daughter ! — — Thou goest — Shall thy mother stay behind ? — Let me attend thee to the fatal steps. And see thee to the last. Zebah. Too heavy, heavy, My mother, is the burden of thy heart, For this thy deem'd sweet-duty ; — with my sisters Remain thou here ; — my father and his friend Shall walk as mine attendants. TiRZAH. Wilt thou part From me forever ? — O thou dearest child ! For ever part ? Zebah. Heaven and my heart, O mother! Command me to depart. TiRZAH. Oh, sad departure ! Most bitter separation ! Zebah. Weep not, mother. Heaven wills it to be so ! A DRAMATIC POEM, 109 TiRZAH. Alas ! alas ! Most cruel, so — and to a mother's ear Most bitter in its speaking — Oh ! may God, Out of his own high hearen, look down upon thee, And bless thee, O my child ! — Ah me ! thou carry'st with thee, from this house Of tears, a mother's tenderest love and blessing ; Once more thou dearest ! [_She kisses her^ then sinks doicn^ and is horme up hy her damsels. Zebah. Heaven's holy peace sustain Thy sinking heart, O mother ! (To the Choir.) Ye sisters of my soul ! (To the Nurse.) Thou faithful dame ! \_Kisses them. Take this last earnest of a loving heart — Farewell ! Let us depart, father ! \_She takes her father's arm^ and retires with him and Sholmi. 110 jephthah's dalghter. The Choir, fSing^ with their harps.) 1. She's gone — our sister soft and dear. The maid high-minded, yoid of fear ! Whilst every eye around her grieves, And every breast with sorrow heaves. Sublimely tranquil, forth she moves, Follow'd by all our tender loves ! 2. My harp ! my harp ! Oh, feebly thou Dost answer to my feelings now ; Thy strings, all -wet with eyelid's clews. Their wonted symphony refuse ; My voice— it trembles as I sing, — My fingers, as they strike the string ! 3. how can I refrain the tear For her I lov'd so sweet and dear ? " With whom, in sunny childhood's day, 1 wont on Jabbok's banks to play ; With whom, on Mizpeh's mountain's high, I wander'd, singing mournfully ! A DRAMATIC POEM. Ill 4. motlier of tlie noble maid ! How may thy sorrows be allay'd ? 1 weep unmeasured — how may I Bid thee from weeping stay thine eye ? Alas ! no check such sorrows know ; Flow then, my tears, in fullness flow ! SCENE Y. The Street in Mizpeh along which the train is passing, Hebrew Prophet. fThe Prophet advances to meet the tj^ain.) O daughter of my prince ! I grieve for thee ; All night I have been weeping — on my couch Sleepless, and spirit-sunk, from thought of thee ! Yet — now — a change descends upon my mood — Marvel and Reverence seize upon my soul ! When I behold thine innocence, thy youth, Thy beauty eminent o'er Gilead's maids. 112 jephtiiah's daughter, Thy filial love, thy sweet simplicity. Thy firm devotedness, and height of soul, How may I not, amid my flood of tears. Be struck with admiration, and with love ! Thou, honour to the dames of Israel ! Thou, pride and ornament of Gilead's land ! Thou, lasting jewel of thy father's house ! Now, with thy life, about to satisfy Thy country's honour, and thy father's debt ! O thou Serene ! that, with triumphant mien, Walk'st onward to the pyre — Oh ! go not on — Go not — 'tis full of pity and of horror — Doth my tongue err ? Is it my too-much love. That makes it reel and stumble in it's talk ? Go, go, thou maid magnanimous ! fulfil Thy soul's great purpose — walking hand in hand With thy belov'd, most melancholy, father, Precede in the procession of thy triumph, Ascend to Heaven — Go, go, to God and Glory ! Lo ! gather'd Israel compassetli thee round With sweet Compassion, Awe, and silent Love ! Nor only these — in future times, thy name By Mizpeh's maids in chambers shall be hymn'd, And Gilead's mountains shall ring loud with it ; Israel's wide land shall not contain thy glory ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 113 The sea thy fame shall overpass ; the isles Of Chittim and the regions yet unknown Of farthest west, with honour shall receive it ; Men, yet unborn shall take into their lips Thy name with celebration, and in tears, Like me, shall of thee sing their song of praise ! Go then, high-minded damsel ! go to Glor y SCENE YI. Court of JephthaKs House. Messenger, Tirzah, Nurse, Choir. Messenger. In sorrow I approach this house of tears. Intruding, yet with awe and deep condolence, Upon a mother's grief. Tirzah. O Israelite ! Thy tears — thy garments rent — that staining dust — ■ Speak thy pain*d heart : — Bear'st thou a farther load Of grief, to us already overheapt With measureless affliction ? 114 jephthah's daughter, Mess. By command Of Mizpeh's priest, I come to Jephthah's house, There to relate, though with yet-trembling lip. What my tear-flooded eyes have just beheld — A sight, though pitiful and full of woe. Yet radiant with sublimity — at which Assembled Israel, in their gaze, stood struck With admiration and astonishment ! TiRZAH. Speak forth to me, messenger ! thy tale; Already charg'd with heaviest dole, my heart Can feel no more accession of distress. How terrible so'er the purport be Of thy distressful, dire intelligence. Mess. O thou bereav'd of one, that, when on earth, Shone out an ornament to Israel, And now hath ris'n, on heav'nward-pointed flame, Up to her proper dwelling in the skies ! Mother of her, for whom this heart yet throbs With pity, these sad eyes yet swim in tears. How shall I make recital unto thee. Of that which, howsoe'er anticipated, Must, in the doing, yet afiect thy heart ! Yet be not, child -lorn mother ! overborne With grief, that boots not ; — God, in recompense. A DRAMATIC POEM. 115 Hath mix'd up kindness with thy suffering, And made thee, to thy people, yenerable, A mother, and an honour to our land ! hear thou, then, though sorrowful, the tale Of thy dear daughter's death-procession. TiRZAH. Though ghastly be the tale, it doth concern me — Relate the closing-scene of our distress. Mess. Forth from her father's gate, thy daughter came Beaming with beauty, and complacency. Amid the people congregated round, Eager, though deeply struck with awe and sorrow, To see the victim of her father's vow : Grief seem'd to touch her cheek, when she o'erpass'd Her father's threshold ; a few glancing tears. In memory of her childhood-happiness. Like gems of dew, came trickling from her eyes ; — That dear, sweet, pang was soon allay'd ; and she, With soul angelically calm, and countenance Erect, commanding love and admiration, Pass'd on in her sublimity ; her father Downcast, dejected, scarcely conscious, Dragg'd, tardily, and with difficulty, his steps, As by her side he wept ; his daughter's arm 116 jephthah's daughter, Sustained him in his walk :— As when the star Of Morning, np the causeway of the East, (Soon to be quench'd in Day's arrivi ng flood) Walks in her ocean-wash'd and burnish'd brightness, Receiving, in her heavenly motions, blessings From Araby's glad shepherds — so the maid (Whose light was soon to be extinguished) pass'd In silence on, saluted by the hearts Of Israel's tens of thousands ; — most stood mute As if in veneration ; some aloud Met her with songs, and, in their acclamations, Show'r'd from their tongues rich benedictions on her : Meanwhile, between her father and his friend, This on the left, her father on the right, Graceful she mov'd toward the appointed place. The altar of her sacrifice, whereon. High and exposed afar to view, the priest Stood in his long, white, linen, stole array'd ; The crackling fire burn'd brightly at his side; — She reached the altar's steps ; and, having kiss'd Her father, and received his parting blessing, (Scarce given through floods of weeping,) she, with step Untottering, mounted calmly to the place. The platform of her death and of her glory. A DRAMATIC POEM. 117 Whereat the men of Israel, now beholding. As stag'd for th' admiration of the world, Her youth, her beauty, and her dignity, Hush*d as the grave, their murmur ; Silence chained Their tongues ; Suspense, Attention, Pity, Love, Held fix'd their eyes, astonied held their hearts ; — At the priest's side she took her station ; — then, With eyes advancM to heaven, and lips ejaculating Prayers for her father, mother, friends, and country, Stood, waiting from the priest the fatal stroke ; His hand, unwillingly compliant, shook And falter'd in its task ; thrice he essay 'd. And thrice was disappointed in the gripe ; She with a smile looked down, and seem'd to chide The trepidation of his quiv'ring hand ; At last he rear'd the weapon, and, with head Averted, shuddering at his own forc'd act, He struck — he struck — Into her angel-heart ! TiRZAH. Merciful God ! my daughter ! Choir. Alas 1 our gentle sister ! Messenger. O Israel ! my country ! my God! Then, then, methought the world unto my eyes Grew dim and dark ; Grief prostrated my soul ; 118 jephthah's daughter, And downward to the earth weighed my sad eye. Commov*d was Israel's multitude ; th* emotions, That in their bosoms had been pent a while, Now impotent, burst violent forth ; — all round, From every eye gush'd torrent tears ; all round, Kose the loud sobs of sympathy to heaven : Pity with Admiration in each breast Disputed place ; and some cry*d out lamenting, " Ah I piteous^ piteous^ day for Israel V* Others, aloud, with triumph in their voice, Shouted afar — " Glory to Israel^ and to Jephthah's house ! To JephthaK^ house^ and Jephthah's daughter^ Glory ! Her father conquer* d Israel's enemy ; The daughter^ in her victory^ transcends The father's triumph — Glory! Glory! Glory! Live^ Live the memory of Mizpeh's maid ! Perish the enemies of Israel /" And, in a transport rapt of gratitude. They have up-rais*d and cheer d tV afflicted father ; And now enround and company him home. With songs of consolation, and with hymns Congratulant, and gently-ringing harps. Cymbals, and pipes melodious, whilst their hands A DRAMATIC POEM. 119 Bear braDches of the palm, and other boughs Of goodly trees, which, o*er their heads, on high, Sun- ward they ware — a triumph, such as that Upon the day when Jephthah home retum'd Victorious o'er the spoil-gorg'd Ammonite! — Hear, hear, their shouting, as aloud they cry ! — [_Voices from without, ^' Glory to Israel, and to Jephthah's house 1 To Jephthah's house, to Jephthah's daughter, Glory!" TiRZAH. Messenger I thy melancholy words, That hath summ'd up with sequel terrible Our house's loss, yet, yet, so far as such A woe can soften' d be by circumstance, Carry a little sweetness in their much Of bitterness : — My country's sympathy ! The consolations of my gracious God 1 Sustain my heart in its affliction 1 Choir. 1, My sister went — I too would fain Have gone in her funereal train ; She bade me stay behind — I stay'd To tend her mother as she bade ; 120 jephthah/s daughter, I heard not her last breathed sigh ; I saw her not as she did die ! 2. Sweet Sister ! thou art pass'd to God ; His palace now is thine abode ; While we, thy life's companions dear. Are left to weep and linger here ; Thy place is empty ; how may we Henceforth be joyous, reft of thee ? 3. How shall we now the song advance ? How weave the many-mazed dance ? With whom walk now beside the rills, Or wander high among the hills ? She, she is gone, that with her grace, And goodness, beautified each place 1 4. O sooner shall the Jordan's wave Stream backward to his fountain-cave ; Sooner the heavens shall eastward roll Their stars, and reel, unfix'd, the pole ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 121 Than from my mournful soul shall fade The fame of Mizpeh's minstrel-maid ! 5. Hills of Manasseh ! shout her name ; Valleys of Gad ! repeat the same ; On Jordan's either palm-clad strand. In Judah's, and in Ephraim's land. Let Israel's gratitude proclaim The glory of our sister s fame ! END OF JEPHTHAH S DArGHTEK. ESTHER; OR THE FALL OF HAMAN; A DRAMATIC POEM. DRAMATIS PERSON.E. Angel of Retribution. Ahasuerus (Achshirash), King of Persia. Esther (Haclassa), his Queen. Haman, an Araalekite or Agagite, his Prime Minister. Zeresh, Wife of Hainan. Mordecai, a Hebrew. Hatack. Esther's Chamberlain, — a Hebrew, interme- diary between Mordecai and the Queen. Harbonah, King's Chamberlain. Zethan, the King's Secretary and Reader. Choltah, a Hebrewess, Handmaid and confidante of the Queen. Hebrews, — Chief of the Synagogue, ]\Ien, Women, &c. Persian Water-Carrier. Persian Potter. Artificers. Echo or Bath-kol (Daughter of Sound or Thunder). The Scene lies in Shushan, the Capital of the Persian Em- pire, where the events take place, whether in the Palace or its precincts, the Streets of the City, the Jewish Synagogue, &c. The duration mav be considered as beinsr two or more davs. ESTHER. ACT I. SCENE I. Shushan. Angel of Retribution. I COME, at God's command — here, on this scene Of aye-revolving, ever-changeful earth, To do the deed which God hath set me to, His minister, more prompt than flaming fire. For, in this city, Shushan, where, high-thron'd Th' imperial Persian sits, and, from his mouth Issues the breath, that, or with life or death Affects a thousand cities — In this Shushan, This, surnam'd of the lily, gay, metropolis, A bloody plot hath been conceived, and now Is ripe, even to fulfilment : — One bad heart, By pride, and spite, and envy, gnaw'd upon. 128 ESTHER, Is father to the black, blood-pregnant scheme- — Haman, of Esau's seed, the Agagite, Hereditary hater of the race Of him, who did his red-haired brother baulk Of the dear birthright, sold so very cheap. This man, transplanted from Euphrates' banks. Where, erst he fed his numerous flocks, hath been For service to the empire, here advanced, Hath now his golden Mithras-blazon'd chair Set high, overtopping it o er all the rest. Beside the judgment -dealing palace-gate, Where Elam's high-sock'd princes congregate. Proud is his port, and haughtily he wears His head, as nearest to the sun, and thence Commanding bended knees, gifts, rev'rences, From the great common crowd of courtiers ; Yet, in his exaltation, and his pomp Of homages, from judges, magistrates. Lieutenants, captains, princes, governors. Sheriffs, and treasurers, and counsellors, The flower of this prime kingdom, — one non-homage. One small neglect — one stiff", uncringing knee. Hath dash'd his glutted soul with discontent. Shut out self-gratulation, and let in Confusion, fury, and self-torturing hate. A DRAMATIC POEM. 129 Hating the man tliat bows not, he has doom'd To death, not him alone, the recusant, But all the people of this non -complyer, The sons of Jacob, exiles innocent, Scatter d, and sunder'd from their Holy Mountain, Sad sojourners in Persians provinces, A small Jehovah-fearing folk, amid A mighty nation of fire-worshippers. And now the warrants of the massacre Are written out all fair ; and rapid posts. With up-tuck'd garments, riders on swift steeds. Mules, camels, and young dromedaries, stand At every palace-port, equipt for travel. Waiting the sign to start ; — all, all is ready. Nought wanting, save the royal ring apply'd To seal the written death just fledg'd for flight ; And, for the sealing, is this hour appointed. — Yet, let the monarch seal, let th' Agagite Hatch and o'erbrood his murderous machinations, — Let the wing'd shaft stand burning for its flight. And Death extend his bare hand for the gripe. — Here I am come from God to stop it all, — To clog the wheels, whereon this ruin rushes, — (As, in the Red Sea's strait, I did confound And strike off Pharaoh's impious chariot- wheels) — I 130 ESTHER, To interpose the arm that guards the good From unjust persecution, and roll back Th' intended evil on th' intender's head, With retribution tenfold aggravated, Ev'n to the world's amazement. — This my office ; — And this, the charge by the Most High assigned me, To save a guiltless people, and show forth Example to a doubting world, that God Rewards a man according to his works. Has good men in his keeping, nor will suffer Malice to triumph o'er simplicity. And cruelty to crush the innocent. — So shall all good men hope — all bad despair I SCENE II. Chamber in Mordecai's house. MORDECAI, HaTACH. MoRDECAi. Be sure, O friend ! there is some danger toward — Some mustering mischief — some conspiracy A DRAMATIC POEM. 131 A -working in the councils of the state : — I pray my God that it may light on me. And not upon my country ! Hatach. By what signs Inferrest thou ought evil ? MoRDECAi. As the mariner Foresees, in the horizon's troubled edge, Confus'd and over-dimm'd with ragged clouds, The tempest of to-morrow, so I spy In to-day's sinister appearances The imminent dark danger. At the gate. The gathering-place of princes, where the news Accruing from a hundred provinces Travel, from mouth to mouth, in free discourse, Suspicion low'rs and reigns ; — men do mistrust Each other, breaking short the sentences They had begun, and turning suddenly Their backs to those whom they were just addressing, As if they in a moment had discern'd Something funereal to themselves or others Ensuing on their speech : — The palace, too. Travails with some mysterious, new, state-birth. Fatal to foreign or to Persian men. — Of courtiers entering in or going out The countenances are chang'd : — But chiefly he. 132 ESTHER, The Am*lekite, the leather of our race, Bears, in his broAvs and eyes, gestures and looks, Too visibly impressed not to to be read Ev'n by the child, envenomed, deadly rancour Against th' unhappy sons of Israel. Hatach. There — there — your surmise carries likelihood ; — For, if from Ahasuerus' cabinet, 111 should (as you suspect) overtake the Hebrew, 'Tis he, the Hebrew-hater, from the whom. As fountain-head, that mischief must proceed ; His spirit there predominates; — the king, As table-friend, and boon -companion. Admits him daily to his banquetings. At which, in high-flush'd moments, when the soul Of Xerxes' son veers, like the summer wind. Around the sky's whole compass, this breed-bate Takes vantage of the wine-flush, and, with art, Perverts and warps the monarch's easy mood, According to his mischievous own nature ; With the king's name, covering, enforcing, wreaking, His own malicious, Jew-destroying, schemes. MoRDECAi. Too true — 'tis from this friendship, bred of wine, I chiefly do derive mine apprehensions ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 133 This man, this Haman, in whose bosom hate Holds her vexatious revels, from the day In which, through God, I sav'd the monarch's life, Has looked upon me with invidious scowl. As on a rival, too much bless'd in having An honest claim, superior to his own, Upon the royal favour ; and with this Personal hate and envy, there is mix'd — Hate national, the Am'lekites' remembrance Of the vale Hephidim, where fell their hosts Beneath the sword of Joshua, near the Altar Jehovah-nissi, on whose stones was ^rav'd — War^ war tcith Amalek from generation To generation. 'Tis this double malice. This fierce, twin-headed hate, that gnaweth hiui. Taints ev*n his eyes with prejudice, and makes Him misinterpret men's most simple acts. And attitudes, into contemptuous signs Admitting no forgiveness. Well I see. As through the gate he passes every morn, The deep-laid mischief, meant to Israel, Flung from his wrathful eyes intelligibly, As lightning darted from the lurid cloud Marching along with thunder. Hatach. From that spite, 134 ESTHEI?, Ere it concoct to action, Lave we not ^4 surety in our queen, of Hebrew born. The daughter of thy brotiier ? MoRDECAT. She, indeed, I hope will be our safeguard. — O my God ! How breathes my heart its gratitude to thee, When I do think upon my brother's cbild. My daugliter, whom I brought up on my knees, My gentle nursling, whom to me her mother. Gave on her childbirth-bed of death, in th' hour She dy'd, and, dying, said—- To thee^ my hr other ^ I give my orphan-infant ; Be to her Mother and father ; She shall he to thee A hlessing ; God shall richly bless the child^ And make her he a Mother unto Israeli PJatach. And she hath been, and shall be, as we hope. Yet more and more a mother unto Israel. MoRDECAi. She, more than all the virgins, hath obtained Favour and grace in the king's sight, and sits In the house-royal, with the royal crown Upon her head; yet hath she kept concealM Her kindred and her people from the king, According to the charge that I have given her, A DRAMATIC POEM. 135 Not to shew forth her birth, until what daj The revelation may be not unseasonable, But influence for good the Hebrew name And state : — And now, methinks, that likely day Is drawing near : — Yet, let us wait, my friend, Till the time ripen its yet dark events. To justify and prosper the disclosure. I shall be watchful of the signs ; do thou, Between queen Esther and her kinsman go. As one unknowing of her family, And be the bond between us. — Till to-morrow — I to my gate — Thou to thy palace-duties. SCENE III. A Room in the Palace, Ahasuerus, Ham an (at the Wine-banquet J . Haman. My lord, O king! it is a perverse people — Even from their origin, their father Jacob, — Whom Isaac lov'd not, but his mother doated ojn. And urg*d the dim-ey'd father to the fraud 136 ESTHER, Whereby poor Esau, cheated of the blessing Was banish'd to the desert, there to live A prowler, by the sword, and serve his brother. — Even from their origin, their foul beginning, The people are corrupt ; — Not their own lake Of Sodom and Gomorrhah so infects The pure-orb'd sun with pestilential taint, As do these out-casts our sun-honouring realm With their most-loath'd infection ! Ahasuerus. Of what strain Be their opinions and their laws ? Haman. Diverse From those of other people ; they despise The King's commandments, and, when every man In every province, from th' Egyptian flood Eastward to Ind's long river, bows the head Submissive to thy mandates, this stiff race. Obdurate as the rocks of that steep mount From whence (they say) the Thunderer gave them laws, Stand out rebellious, and gainsay with words, Alledging, God^ not Fleshy is their commander^ Jehovah is their Maker and their Lord ; While Ahasuerus is hut Xerxes son^ That scatter d them. A DRAMATIC POEM. 137 Ahasuerus. Their religious rites, And tenets — of what character ? Haman. Alike, Sav'ring of disrespect, disloyalty, And disbelief — their own is all — ought else Is nothing, though believ'd by half a world : They mock the sun when rising ; and, when others Turn their glad faces to the fresh-gilt East, Kissing the hand with mouth of adoration, They flout with blasphemy the glorious light, And, Creature not Creator^ cry aloud Even to the Persian's face, even at the doors Of Mithras* temple : And, when night's sweet queen. The sister of the day-rejoicing God, Walks in her brightness, and Susanian dames Bear forth their little children in their arms To doors and casements, thence to greet the light And worship it with welcome, then these dames Of Jewry hide it from their little ones. Fly to back-casements, where they skulking sit With faces turn'd towards Jerusalem, Giving the fair moon scorn, as being but An up-lit thing that doth deserve no worship. — These be their blasphemies ; and then their walk 138 ESTHER, And conversation is of similar bent ; Their thoughts tend only to their own behoof ; Their hands are fangs to clutch huge usury ; Their tongues, contemptuous, only laud themselves ; Their feet are prompt to chase each sordid gain ; In brief, their very garment-hems and sleeves, Befring'd with parchments and phylacteries, Do utter treason, and defiance cry To Persia's King and God. Ahasuerus. My father Xerxes — Shifted he not these folk from Babylon, Where in brick-kilns they toil'd as brick-makers. To this our sunny peach-producing land, AVherein they, like to griffins, scrape up gold. And guard it in deep holes ? Haman. He did, my lord ! — Maugre their God, whose emblem is the cherub. Your sire transplanted them ; — in spite of all Their boasting, that they are the blest of Heaven, He hurry 'd them unwilling, pushed them off* Hand-manacled, before his chariot-wheels, And sham'd them of their Glory : — Witness now This trophy of your triumph now before us. This golden wine-cup from Jerusalem, O'er-carv'd with little cherubs, consecrate A DRAMATIC POEM, 139 Once to their temple, now the pretty gaiide That garnisheth thy banquets ! (Lifting the cup.) Ahasuerus. By the tombs Of my forefathers ! 'tis a goodly goblet ; See how, with mantling, interlaced, wings, The well-pair'd angels of Jerasalem Float, in the rare embossment of their gold, O'er the gemm*d coffer lodg'd beneath ! Haman. It is A grace to Persia's banquet. Ahasuerus. Then, fill it high With Pasagardian grape -juice, and up-drink The beverage to the bottom, as the sign Of exultation o'er the prostrate Jew ; f Haman^/Z^ it and drinks. J And fill it too for me, when thou art done, That I may revel with thee — (The King takes the cup from the hand of Haman, and drinks.) Ha ! — Our land Of Persia must be purg'd — the sun no longer Can brook these weeds of Jewry rankling on 't, And fattening in that sunshine they abhor. — Another cup — (Haman Jills.) And brim it full and high 140 ESTHER, With Chalybonian ! ■ Now — To Persia's God ! And may his worship dominate in tK earthy As he at mid-day rides upon the sphere ! (The King drinks^ and gives the cup to Haman.) Drink Hamao, to the God — Can the grape's blood Be fitlier used than thus to glorify Him, by whose beams it is matured ? me-seems, This Syrian- wine from this Jerusaiem-cup Tastes sweet and sweeter. Haman. (Aside.) Mantling in the pate Of royalty, I ho23e 'twill generate No good for Jewry. Ahasuerus. Haman ! hath your mandate, Ordering the death of these fire-flouting men, Been seal'd and sent ? and hath the month and day Been fix'd by the Chaldean's astrolabe. As fortunate most for the doom'd Jews' misfortune ? Haman. My Lord, here is the death- writ fairly drawn. Waiting the impress of the royal ring ; — Wherewith, by your permission — Ahasuerus. Stamp it, Haman — Give it the final pass, to make it roam All-current, as good coin. A DRAMATIC POEM. 141 Ham AN. Then, before Your eyes, I stamp it — thus — \_He seals the icarrant. Ahasuerus. Now call the Chalclee, And let him, with his star-perrading glance, Determine the good time. Haman. My Lord, from month To month, from day to day, I have been wearing The stairs o' th' court-astrologer*s abode, Courting his lucky answer ; — I cast Pur, Before his presence every day at noon. That stars might ratify what lot cast up ; But, till to day, it seem'd each planet fought Fierce against Pur ; and our Chaldean sage. Star-conversant, forbade the undertaking, Saying one day, that Mercury was thwart^ And on another^ now is Mars conjoined With Ophiuchi^ an ill-omen d place 0' th' zodiack^ that hreeds nought hut late and bane. But ho ! to-day, at noontide, when I shook Purim before him, and they pointed out The thirteenth day of Adar for the work, Then did our chop-chang'd Chaldee clap his hands. And cry, Now Pur icith Planet harmonizes^ Noic is the moon in a most lucky house ; 142 ESTHER, Now^ Venus ^ Mars^ and Jupiter in trine Conspire in Heaven most prosperously for plots Begun on earth 1 Now^ Hainan^ to your work ! The stars are yours — onward icith your good stars ; Men may he untrue^ hut the stars are sure ! Whereby, my Lord, encouraged, I have brought All forward towards completion; and the posts Stand at your palace-gates, accoutred all For quick dispatch. Ahasuerus. Then, let them fly like cranes, East, North, South, West — let loose by my com- mand : — They cannot rush too rapid for the work. Haman. My Lord ! not only shall their flight be quick. Their execution, too, shall be effectual ; — They shall empower, excite, exhort thy people, To kill, to cause to perish, and destroy. All Jews, their children, and their little ones, Both young and old, in all the provinces, On one same day, upon the thirteenth day Of the month Adar — Tis a day that shall Be richly-red with Jew-blood ! Ahasuerus. In the calendar Mark'd with a flaming rubrick ! — See their spoil A DRAMATIC POEM. 143 Up gathered be by Shazgaz for a prey, And heap'd into our treasure-house. Haman. The dogs Are rich — it shall be done ; — so perish all The king^s bane-breeding enemies ! Ahasuerus. 'Tis settled — Now fill the fair Jerusalem-cup again, Brimful for the confusion of our foes ! SCENE lY. Chmnber in Hainan's Palace, Zeresh, Haman. Zeresh. Here comes my Lord, alJ glowing from the palace, And redolent of courtly news ! Methinks, His high-curv'd brows speak more significantly Of honours, than i' th' morning, when he past His house's threshold.— Welcome to my Lord ! Thrice happy day ! and joy ! for now his house Seems saturate with good fortune, and with honour. 144 ESTHER. Haman. Honour and joj ! — Daughter of Tatnai ! what, and where, are they ? What are a thousand honourers, when one vile Dishonourer stares me in the face each morn, Marring the day's whole triumph ? — How I hate him ! This Mordecai, this proud, unfawning Jew, That stands alone, a pouter with his lip, Amid a congregation of sweet smilers ! Why — this same morn, when up the palace-court, The levee-place^ where courtiers congregate, I pass'd, to have a parley with the king, I saw him standing sullen as of yore, A pillar of contemptuousness ; and when My train of satraps, chancellors, and scribes. The Lords of Media and of Bactriana, Prince Tharubis and noble Ariomard, Duke Datames and Prince Artembaces And Arsaces the Duke of Arachosia, With other noble servants of the king, Approach'd me, with becoming rev'rences. As saying, TJiou^ Haman^ art our Lord ; We put our necks below thy lordly feet 1 Then this haught Jew did seem to plant himself Industriously before my very path, A DRAMATIC POEM. 145 And, as I pass'd, did turn his eye askance, And crook'd his form to uncouth attitude, Forsooth, in mockery, as reckoning me But a poor shadow passing, as a thing Of less importance than the buzzing fly That hover'd round his turban : — But, by Mithras ! I have him — Him, and his total Amalek-hating race. Proscribed, death-doom'd — for this — for these insults To me, and to my house ! Zeresh. Not less, my Lord, At home have we been watchful to secure Revenge for thy spurn'd honours. — In good sooth, This study'd niock'ry touches our whole house. And merits, in its turn, an exquisite And study'd punishment ; — There is preparing, Here in our dwelling's very heart and centre, A show- place for our vengeance, — Ham AN, Thank you, dame ! — Why — 'tis most seemly that this mocking Jew, This joy-dispelling Mordecai, should not Die darkly by a vulgar Persian poniard. Like his Jew-brethren, in the gross : — No, no, — He must be half-rais'd to the heaven for this, Aye — aggrandized in 's taking off. — Hast thou, then, K 146 ESTHER, O'erseen to-day the work, tliat yester-eve Thou with thy father's brother Arisai, Didst recommend ? — Yea, marry, I do hear The clank of merry hammers in my court ! \jBe hears the sound of the icorkmen. Zeresh. My Lord, the tree is up 1 Look from the window Down on thy court, and see how diligent Thy consort, and her uncle Arisai, llaye, in thy absence, tended to their task ! Ham AN. {Looking from the casement,^ A goodly gibbet, fair, and high to see ! Zeresh. My Lord ! th' artificer declared it was The stateliest pine that e'er, from Zagra's mount. Swum down to Shushan on Choaspes' flood : He cuird it out from all his work-yard store ; A tree of fifty cubits, that might top it Above thy palace-pinnacles. Haman. I like Its altitude and fashion well ; — the man, Fore-doom'd to dangle from it, shall be seen From Shushan's every street. — Now let this tree, Which is set up so graceful to my mind, Be garlanded all gay, its top festoon'd With the Spring's prettiest flowers, its every bough. A DRAMATIC POEM. I47 Trunk, branch, and twig, set round with Shushan's lilies. To captivate the eye. Send forth thy maidens Round, to the meadows, and the riyer-banks. To gather pink and primrose for its dress. So shall this evening see its flowers ; to-morrow Shall see its fruit dependent. — And, sweet dame, See thou the carpenter be well rewarded ; Prepare a dainty banquet in the court For him and all his craftsmen : — At the foot Of the tall gibbet let them have their feast. And drink, till midnight, a prolong d carousal, For their good work completed. — Now, my soul Is somewhat eas'd by this imposing prospect. Seen from ray casement ; — soon our jeering Jew, Peace-murdering Mordecai, shall handsel it ; And he that, living, bow'd not, shall in death Quiver each limb and feature in my honour ! 148 ESTHER, SCENE Y. Interior inclosure^ or Court-yard of Hamans Palace. Artificers. 1st Artif. Drink to my Lord Duke, Haman ! 2d Artif. To my lord ! 3d Artif. The son of Hamdatha, and glory to him, And to his house ! 1st Artif. May all his enemies Hang as rich apples on this goodly tree ! We sing and drink their dirge, ere yet they're dead. 2d Artif. Friends ! we are here face-merry ; but, I trow. Some heavy bodement hangs about the heart, I feel it, dragging us all down to sadness. 3d Artif. True, true — 'tis but a poor, unseemly joy. To quaff thus — 'neath a gibbet, howsoe'er Good be the wine, and generous be the treater. 1st Artif. My heart misgives me — I do bode some ill — A DRAMATIC POEM. 149 Little men know who set a gallows up Who, in their turn, may get the usufruct. 2d Artif. Ay, sooth, it is a mad unhallow'd thing To sit a-drinking here, as now we do, Under the shadow of a gallows-tree. As if it were a palm or mulberry ; — I wonder how we 'greed to 't : Heay'n forgive us ! 3d Artif. Yon rising moon is ominous — I like not The ugly halo gathering round her rim ! 1st Artif. See'st thou yon owl upon the left- hand turret ? 2d Artif. I see an ugly raven on the left. 3d Artif. Hark ! how the huge, tall gibbet creaks ! It twang'd Through all its length a melancholy sound, As if the ghost of the uprooted tree Was parting from it. 1st Artif. Tis the midnight wind Whistling amid its tops. 2d Artif. A dreary sound Sings down from Haman's Palace. Things like ghosts Seem dancing on the pinnacles ! 3d Artif. The sky Gathers a storm, and lightning-freighted clouds Stream up from the sea-gulf. 150 ESTHER, 1st Artif. Hearst ih&u not The thunder mutter on the rim of heaven ? Such clouds ! — their blackness seems to come from hell, To terrify and thunder-strike the world ! Would we were hous'd, safe from these heavy rain- drops ! Away, away — this storm confounds our wassail I \_Exeunt, Echo (or Bath-kol) Voice from Heaven amid the thunder-storm, 'Tis fit — 'tis fit — it is a fitting tree. And fitly set, for Haman and his house ! Let the voice go rebounding through the heaven. Concordant with the thunder's dreadful roll — 'Tisjit — 'tis Jit — it is a fitting tree ! And fitly set ^ for Hamaji and his house.. A DRAMATIC POEM. 151 ACT IL SCENE I, A Boo7n in the Queen's Palace. Esther, Choltah, Esther. What mean these tears, mj Choitah ? Why dost thou Avert thy face from thy Hadassa thus, And sob, in secret, o'er some unknown grief, Deem*d all-unworthy of thy mistress' ear ? Thy sister-handmaids, too, that heretofore. Were wont to meet me with salute of smiles, Have chang'd their cheer;- — 'twas yester-noon we walk'd Within my garden, plucking in our sport The springing flowers, and ever and anon We sat us down in some rose -braided bower To listen to thy sweet voice- wedded harp ; — Then every face beam'd gladness ; — but, to-day. There is no joy — what means this drooping cheer ? Daughter of Achzah ! tell me ? Choltah. O, my lady ! My Queen ! my mother ! grief drives back the words, Which thy august commandment bids me utter ! 152 ESTHER, Esther. O, if thy queen's command, thy mother's wish. Thy friend's compassion, be of ought avail, Check, if thou can'st, the grief, and let thy words Reveal to me its cause : What hath befallen Thee, or thy kindred, or thy tribe, in Shush an. That thus thou weepest ? Choltah. Not for me alone I weep, nor for my kindred, or my tribe ; A wider sphere doth occupy my grief; I weep for Israel's captives ! Esther. They are driven, Like chaff, wind- wafted from the thrasher's floor, Afar, in every land throughout the world, The very proverb, and the pointing-stock, Of idol-worshippers, and heathen folk, The mock'ry of their children, as they pass Through streets and sorry lanes — what worse can hap The harassed children of Jerusalem ? Cpioltah. Afflicted though they be, driven forth their land. And overheap'd with sorrows, yet — they breathe ; Though life to them be but a fiery furnace. Thrice-heated with oppression, yet— they live : Now, ev'n this mis'ry-fraught, poor privilege. A DRAMATIC POEM. 153 Is grudg'd them, and a mightier blow impends To blot them out of being ! Esther. From what hand, Or what deviser ? Choltah. From some wicked heart Of Persia's Court, our country's enemy, Ev'n in the palace where thou reign'st as queen. Thine uncle Mordecai, the son of Jair, Got cognisance beside the palace-gate But yesterday ; and soon the tidings flew Like fire across a withered wilderness. Dreadful, from house to house, from street to street : The city Shushan was perplex'd ; the son Of Jair, sackcloth-girt, with ashes smear' d. Went out into the midst of this great city, And, with a loud and bitter cry, he cry'd. Through street, and square, and lane, bewailing loud Himself and brethren, with a shrieking voice, So dismal, and so full of melancholy, That even the dogs that kennel'd lay, alarm' d. Answer d in howls of horror from each house Of Shushan as he past : Meanwhile, his brethren Sat shivering in their dwellings' darkest nooks. With fasting, weeping, wailing ; many lay All night in sackcloth, wallowing in the dust. 154 ESTHER, Tossing in terror, lest some bloody sword, Unseen till the death-blow, should suddenly Be struck into their hearts. Esther. Alas, my country ! My brethren and my sisters ! Woe that we Seem born for very trouble, — that our cup, No sooner drain'd down to the dregs, again Is fiird with bitterness ! — So wrathful man, God's agent, oft has, with his wise permission, ; Already wrought against us, and once more Plots malice : — But the wrath of man, performed. Shall praise Him, and its useless, base remainder, Shall be restrained. Choltah. Our hope is set in Heaven, And, under Heaven, in her whose royal head Wears the rich diadem that Yashti wore. Esther. Frail is the trust in creature that is born Of woman, but, when God invigorates. The weak say, we are strong : — The son of Jair, Mine uncle — wherefore doth he keep aloof. Mid such alarm, concealing curiously, As of set purpose, from his brother's daughter. The project that is published ? — Yester-eve I look'd out from my lattice, seeking him With anxious eye, where he was wont to take A DRAMATIC POEM. 155 His daily walk before the women's court ; But his place knew him not. Choltah. He came, my Lady, Ere sunset, to the gates of th* outer court, Claiming as wont, admission to the queen ;— But clad in sackloth-vest, he came ; his head Defil'd with ashes, and with dust, up-caught Ev'n from the trodden street ; and thrice he sued For entrance, — thrice the royal porter chid him Back with harsh words, saying, — No man was suffer d To pass the king's gate cloth' d in such a garh I Esther. So, Persia's law forbids that I should know, From his own mouth, mine uncle's sorrow i — jet 'Tis not forbid that, through some other mouth, Some internuncio of mutual faith, I should be let into his inmost thoughts ; — Shall Elam's queen, alone of all her people, When dangers gather round, sit in her palace Unconscious, and uncareful ? — Call in hither The trusty Chamberlain, that waits on me Attendant by the king's commandment ; — [^Choltah, retiring^ calls the Chamher- lain^ who appears. Hatach ! Go seek mine uncle Mordecai, that stands 156 ESTHER, Upon the city-street, before the gate Of the king's palace — take with thee a robe Of princely worth, and tell him, 'tis my wish That he do doff his hairy sackloth - vest. And put his queen -presented garment on; And bid him tell the cause that covers him With mortifying vestment, that I may Know what it is, and why it is : — []Hatach retires. Now, my damsel. Reach me my harp, that I may solace me With one of Zion's solemn-thrilling airs : — (She sings to the harp.) 1. O Zion ! though thy beauty be! Cast down by Him that dwelt in Thee ; Although thy once glad ways do mourn, And thou art now the Heathen's scorn ; Yet, yet, my thoughts do linger still Upon thy Cherub-shaded hill ! 2. Ah me ! the hymns that once were sung, To many a harp by Israel strung. A DRAMATIC POEM. 157 Are silent now ; in all thy streets. None now with song his brother meets ; Thy gates are desolate a«d lone, And all thy gladness now is gone ! 3. Thy daughters, once so blooming-fair, Afflicted sit, and dimm'd with care ; Thy priests, and elders, sackcloth-bound, Weeping, sit silent on the ground ; For bread, thy high-nurs'd princes cry ; And all thy woe-struck people sigh. 4. Thine enemies are now the chief ; Thy spoilers glory in thy grief : — O God ! as thou wert wont of old, The troubles of my heart behold ; My soul is humbled in my cry ; Remember, Lord, my misery ! Yet, yet I hope, when I recall To mind his former mercies all ; 158 ESTHER, As God his ire liath shown, his love So will he magnify, and prove ; The Lord is goo% therefore I will Hope in his boundless mercy still ! SCENE II. Chamber in the Palace, Esther, Hatach. Esther. -Hatach appears — his countenance all- serious, Foregoes his tongue, and, in its silence, doth Prelude with heavy look his sad report : — What be the tidings, Hatach ? Didst thou find The son of Jair walking in his place ? And what his answer to the queen's request ? Hatach. I found the son of Jair in the court, Before the king's gate, walking pensively. Clad in his uncouth, hairy garniture. I stood before him, but he saw me not ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 15^ So strongly did his spirit work in him ; His eye seemed rooted to the spot of ground O'er which he pac'd ; he smate his thighs ; he beat His breast ; he sobb'd aloud ev'n to the heavens ; And cry'd, or seem'd to cry, with broken words,— We are the people that have seen affliction I Esther. O, utter not these lamentable words ! Into my breast like arrows thej descend. To cut into my heartstrings : O my people ! Hatach. I wept, and stood apart ; — I could not speak, For weeping o'er his j^itiable plight, So sad, yet so majestic in his woe ! Thrice I advanced — as oft I turned back, Lacking the courage to fulfil my charge, And break upon his melancholy mood : At last, when in his storm of grief there seem'd A pause, again I stepp'd before his eye ; And said — The queen commands thee, son of Jair ! I hare a special message from the queen. She bids thee put aside thy sackloth-vest. As bad of bodement, and to clothe thyself In this fair robe, embroider d by her hand, All-over- woven with lilies and with flowers ! At which, I show'd the garment, when he turn'd 160 ESTHER, His eye aside — he would not look upon it — But thrust it from him, with a flood of tears. Esther. His, his, indeed, must be a mighty grief, That thus perverts dear objects, and doth change What most should please, coming from those he loves, Into a thing delightless, as from those He hates ! Hatach. And then, he rais'd his voice, and said — Take back the broider'd garment to the queen ; Tell her, her kinsman, in the present woe, Dare not allow his sorrow-stained eyes To look with pleasure on her gorgeous robe. Though woven and broider d by her gentle hand. The son of Jair has no heart to wear A dress of joy, amid the fearful griefs That gather o'er his nation :— At the which, I charged him, in your royal name, to tell What he had learn' d from princes at the gate, Or noisy rumour in the public streets. Of those impending, dark, conspiracies, That I might, to the queen^s ear, carry back Tidings of what she so desir'd to know. But knew not. Esther. What his answer then ? Hatach. He open d A DRAMATIC POEM. 161 To me the secrets of the barbarous -plot ; Told me of all had happen'd unto him ; How that the son of Hamdatha, who saw The king's face daily, and, of all the kingdom, Sat at the royal table first, had hatched The scheme, through hatred at the name of Jew : How in his zeal t' extirpate and sweep off That name from under heaven, he had engaged To pay to the king's treasuries, a sum Equivalent to all their tribute's produce, Thereby t' induce the king to ratify His scheme, and seal it with th' imperial ring : He gave me, too, a copy of the writing Of the decree, at Shushan given, whereby The Elamite is ordered to destroy. Cut off, and kill, all Jews, both men and women, From under heaven : — He bade me show the queen The scroll of meditated massacre — {^Gives her the ivriting. And to declare to her the urgency. And charge her, in his own and people's name. That she shall go in, strait, unto the king. To supplicate him, and to make request Before him, for her people. L 162 ESTHER, EsTPiER. What can I, Alas ! mean instrument ! to frustrate such A wickedness, unless my God go with me ? Strengthen the weak, O God ! Hatach. The king, he said, O'erreach'd by bad adviser, in an hour Of table -gaiety, and heat of wine. Hath been drawn in t' approve the Haman-plot, Unknowing, as he hitherto has been. Of the queen's kindred ; and he charges thee — Thine uncle charges thee, O Queen — to show, (What hath not yet been shewn, nor yet reveal'd) Thy family and lineage to the king. And how the people, for the death proscribed. Are the queen's people. Esther. O, my God ! sustain My bosom for this trial ! Hatach. And then he said, Answer the queen (and here he rais'd his voice Into a forc'd tone of severity), Answer the queen, think not that thou the daughter Of Abihail, more than all the rest Shall 'scape in the king's house ; for, if thou hold Thy peace at this time, then shall there arise Enlargement and deliverance to the Jews, A DRA:\rATIC POEM. 163 Eveu from anotlier place ; but thou, and all Thy father's house shall be, for thy neglect, Exposed to malediction and to wrath From thine own people, hating one that might Have sav'd, and sav^'d not : — And who knows if God Hath not, even for this purpose, that thou might'st Rescue his people in a time like this, Advanc'd thee to the kingdom ? Esther. Would to God Twere so — Heav'n second that thrice-bless'd i?ug- gestion. Even to the full wish of my anxious heart ! Yet, I am fearful in this enterprise So full of peril and of moment ; — I Have not, these thirty days, been call'd to come Before the king ; and it is known by all His servants and his people, that whoso Uncaird, shall, whether man or woman, come Before the king into the inner court — There is one law — shall straight be put to death, Excepting such to whom the king shall hold The golden sceptre out, that they may live. Such is the law of Persia, and it stands. Yet, notwithstanding this life-threatening bar, I, with my God to help, will gird me up 164 ESTHER, And fortify me for an enterprize, Which doth require a maniy fortitude : Mean, weak, and frail, may in the hand of Heay'n, Be the poor instrument ; but He, who sits On high, a vast fulfilment oft evolves. Of power beyond a giant's arm ; — The wife Of Heber, in her tent, accompiish'd what The warlike son of Abinoam could not, With thousands at his feet. — Hatach, go back. Report to Mordecai, as from the queen, This answer, — That he gather all the sons Of Jacob, that in Shushan's city be. And fast ye for me ; neither eat nor drink, Nor night nor day ; whilst I, and all my maidens. Will likewise fast ; and so will I go in. Unto the king, although the law forbids ; And if I die, I die :— My people shall not Perish, while Abihairs daughter lives ! Hatach ! bear to my uncle this resolve : — The queen, into thy hands, as being one Of her own faith and kindred, unto whom Her privacy hath been intrusted well. Commits these messages and nice affairs. Requiring secrecy and quick dispatch — A DRAMATIC POEM. 16*5 Thyself, as wont, prove worthy of thy trust. \_Exit Hatacii. CThe Qtjbbis 2^ra7/s.J O Thou, my father s God, my only Rock 1 Amid an overflowing flood of griefs, O hear thy servant's voice, who sits forlorn And desolate, within the stranger's house. Estranged from country, kindred, comforter, Remote, alone, without a counsellor. Without a helper — save my God alone ! By thee, have I been holden from the womb ; — Without a father, without mother, thou Hast been to me as father, and as mother, Ev'n from my years of tenderest infancy, 80 that my praise hath ever been of thee. Help me, O God ! a woman desolate, In this the time of her affliction ; Remember my distress ; and in thy love Make thyself known, as friend and saviour, Unto thy meek and poor afflicted ones. O bless thy servant with a confidence Infus'd divinely by thy Spirit's power, T' abide the trial that awaiteth her ! Fill thou her heart with boldness ; touch her to 11 one With eloquence, that, for thy people, she 16^ ^ ESTHER, jNIay plead with winning sweet audacity, And free them from the raging lion's mouth. Let those, that are thine adversaries, be Covered with shame, confusion, and reproach. But let thy people's heart be comforted 1 God of the helpless 1 be my God and help ! ACT III. SCENE I. Bed-rootn in the Persian Palace. Ah AsuERus {cdone^ 'with tapers burning before him, J Where is thy dwelling, life-repairing sleep ? Hast thou a temple in the city Shushan, That I, a king, may search thee out, and court Thy grace, and bribe thy midnight serrices, With Ophir's gold, and India's pearls, and all The heaps of Cyrus's vast treasure-house ? If thou in Shushan haply hast somewhere Set up thy drowsy, dreaming, tabernacle, I trow, 'tis not within the precints of the palace, Where cares, and aye-suspected ambuscades, A DRAMxVTIC POEM. 16*7 Scare men upon their beds : — No, it must be In some poor lane of my metropolis, Where potters, toil worn at their ^vhirling wheel, Arm-exercising smiths, feet-plodding porters, Yext water-carriers, with their swinging pitchers. And other craftsmen that all day ne'er rest. Rest richly in the night-time : — 'Tis too true — The son of Xerxes, 'neath his cedar-pillar'd And golden-curtain*d canopy of state. Sleeps beggarly, whilst the poor sandal-maker, Whofti yesterday I spy'd plying his trade. And singing in his booth like nightingale. Sleeps on his thin, unbolster d truss of straw, Ev'n as a king should sleep. — Now, would I give This palace of my sires, with all its bravery. For the poor, lean-flesh'd, handicraftsman's slumber ! Certes, *tis the gold-couch that has infection. Attracting towards its glare a crowd of cares, And fears, and jealousies, and wild alarms, That buzz eternally like gadflies round it, Tormenting the vex'd temples of the slumberer : — Fy on thee, gold-gilt ! — How are men deceived By the vain glossy superfice of things ! My subjects, as they pass before my palace, Cast up their eyes, in an admiring gaze, 168 ESTHEK, Upon the glittering roofs and pinnacles Of this my king's-house ; and they think, good folk, Good, simple folk, they think that he within Is as superbly happy as his dazzle Bespeaks without : — They know not — but I know Who sleep not, when they lie upon their beds Sound sleeping : — But methinks, the lazy dawn (looking through the casement) Is long a-coming; — I must while away This heaviness, and entertain the time, ' Ev'n till the golden horns of Mithras peep, With recreation, meet to lull the mind. And bless it with some benefit. — My Scribe, My faithful reader and admonisher. Who in th' adjoining chamber ever waits. At the king's call obedient, night and day. With voice, ton'd clear, and ink-case in his girdle, — Will read me out some solace : — Zetiiar ! (He calls the Secretary.) Approach — bring out the royal Archives-book^ And read to me, until the cock do crow, The court-affairs there-noted, fittest food . For a king's mind to meditate upon. And regulate thereby his daily v»^alk. A DRAMATIC POEM. 169 (Zethar enters with the volume.) Zethar. My lord, king ! here, in my hand, I bear The Archives of your reign, and that of Xerxes : — What portion of the annals shall I read ? AriASUERUS. Trim now the tapers, good my secretary ! — Now — Begin thou from the third year of my reign. When the queen Yashti disobeyed my word, Nor came to shew her beauty to my people : f Zethar reads the history as contained in the Book of Esther, Ch. i. aw. 3. to 21.) An Asu ERTJ s. (^ Interrupting , ) Ay, so it; was — it happened right and well ; Yashti was punish'd, as her crime deserv'd Of disobedience, banish'd from the court. To the lone castle on Singara's mount, Where old Semiramis in summer-time Liv'd till the swallow did flyback again To nestle 'mong the Ethiops ; She was punish'd As she did merit, and will learn obedience. Upon the summits of Singara's mount. — Now read the royal Persian journal on. 170 ESTHER, (Zethar reads^ as contained in the Book of Esther, from Ch. ii. 2i.J Ahasuerus. (Interrupting,) Teresli and Bigtlia ! — Desperate death-devisers ! Insatiate yearners for the blood of kings ! I startle yet, when I to mind recall My narrow death-scape, on that perilous day : I had just lain me down, for noon's repose, In the cool alcove of my summer-house, Suspicionless of all the world, and least Of my two chamberlains ; yet these two men, That were entrusted with my chamber's care. Had fix'd that hour for my dispatch : — But thanks To my good angel, and good Mordecai, The king-defender, (who had overheard The traitors talking of their stratagem,) — Ev'n in the middle of their ambuscade, Where they did lurk, by the pavilion's door, Mid the thick shadow of the pomegranates, With poniards in their sashes, they were caught — And hang'd forth-right on one of these same trees. Whose sacred shadow they had violated. Before the windows of my summer house. 'Twas a becoming termination ! For this, to Mordecai, what hath been done. A DRAMATIC POEM. 171 What dignity or what reward ? — Hath he Been, by a royal firman, set to rule O'er seven- waird Ecbatan, as he deserves, The faithful servant that did save my life ? Or, been appointed lord of Babylon, To govern, with a proved and honest mind. The brick-hous'd people of Semiramis ? Zethar. My Lord, he vralks about these palace- courts Unhonour'd, unrewarded, unextoll'd. For these deserts ; — I saw him yesterday, Without a robe of honour, meanly cloth'd. Unnoticed, unsaluted, disregarded. Amid the multitude of Persian princes. Ahasuerus. In this, there is neglect — It is not meet That he, that sav'd the son of Xerxes' life. Should wander unrequited, and obscure ; He must be honour'd, and that not obscurely, But in the sunshine, and the highway view Of our great city Shushan, that my subjects May see how well the king requites the man That sav'd the king's life by fidelity. And learn from his example to be true. — — Is Haman in the court ? — The dawn peeps in 172 ESTHER, Now at our windows — I must speak with Haman, Regarding this our faithful Mordecai. Zethar. My Lord, I will despatch a messenger, Ordering his presence in the cabinet-room. Ahasuerus. This is the error, fault, or pest of kings, That faithful men, and upright, who have wrought Good service to the king or to the state. Shrink backward in their virtuous modesty, Aye dreading to molest with forwardness, And hence are overlooked, or quite forgot ; Whereas the forward and the proud, whose claim Is but for shallower services, rush in. With bustling mien, and clamorous demand. Teasing the monarch for such high reward As he, the doer, rateth wherewithal His own misdeemed and over- valued merits. But worth is best known by its modesty^ And un-worth by its noisy forwardness. This fault, the brand and obloquy of kings. Shall be to-day corrected and redeemed, By my advancing one good, honest man ; And Shushan, with one voice, shall cry— The king To-day hath honoured merit icith its meed I A DRAMATIC POEM. i i '4 SCENE II. Chamber in Hamans House. Ham AN, Zeresh. Haman. The king has sent for me, my dame — 'Tis good, Ev'n in the earliest morning-watch, to be Up-rousVl from slumber at the call of kings : — 'Tis the prime pleasure — 'tis no breach of rest. To be disrested when the monarch cries, — Arise and rouse ye for our empii'^e's need ! I am his counsellor — treasurer — his father; — Without my arm to prop, the creaking cart Of state-affairs would soon be overset In Elam. — Haply, now 'tis some arrival {to himseJf.) Of foreign tidings from the Caspian, How that the Persian forces, warring there, Beneath the standard of Pharandaces, Have chas'd th* erratic, restless, Scythian Beyond the Oxus, up to Marakand, — Haply, from th' empire's other limit, where Beside the rain- washed mountains of the moon, 174 ESTHER, TLe sun-burnt Ethiop carries on the war, Rebellious, with the brave Mjgabates ; I wish the Tirhakah were soon put down ; So would I put up, in his kingly place, My son Parshandatha ; — his brother rules The spicy coast of Seba, opposite From Aden eastward to the Homerite ; So would the brother's mutual seigniories Be brotherly, and neighbour-like adjoin : The king's my friend, and will not hesitate T' advance my sons, as I shall point him out. Fit exaltations for their father's rank : — But — haply 'tis none of these — Perchance, some crying home-affair — some points Of nicer execution and detail. Touching the better, cleaner, taking off Of these same Jews, death-claim'd ; — of whom the chief Shall swing in heaven — his scaffolding is made ; Tlie rabble shall lie wallowing on th' earth : Our gibbet yearns, as hungry for his prey. The king's assent lacks only, which I will Secure in this our morning-consultation ; — And then — the gallows-tree for Mordecai ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 175 Zeresh. So be th' eyent, my husband ! — thus I pray- Thus hope — yet some sharp prickle of misgiviug Sprouts up amid my flowery heap of hopes, Stinging my spirit into some alarm. I did not like the colour of my dreams Last night ; — The magi say, that gloomy dreams Portend th' occurrents of the aftertime. Methought, as I stood gazing on the sun, He, in a shower of ashes, fell from heaven Upon my lap ; and, as I look'd again, I saw a bright archangel in his place, His face like to the lightning, and his voice Like to the bellowing thunder, as he cry'd, — TJi Almighty doth extinguish this bright thing In Elam*s view^ and^ constitutes himself TK eternal fountain of all life and light ; And then his hand unroll'd a scroll, whereon Was written, — God will render a reicard To the proud doer ; the meek man will see it^ And be made glad. At which, I was afraid. And woke. I pray the omen may be vain Touching myself, my husband, and my children. 176 ESTHER, SCENE III. . Room in the Palace. Esther, Choltah. Esther. Dawns yet the day, my lian Jmaid \ Choltah. Ere I clonib The palace-stairs, I saw the morning-star Dive his bright-spangled head into the blue Ocean of Heaven, before the stronger light That rose up to supplant him. Esther. Open thou My chaijiber-casement — let me see the daAvn — Uncurtain all the lattice, that the light Unhinder d may come in. Choltah. To-day, the god Of Persia seemeth to rejoice in triumph. As being the high holiday, wherein His fiery worship is, by Persia's sons, To be in public solemniz'd. Esther. No marvel The sun, that rules the day so gloriously, Scattering his light over a thousand lands, A DRAMATIC POEM. 175 Should, by admiring men, be deify'd : — Look at his golden coronet of rajs, {Casting her gaze from the window.^ As up he springs above yon eastern hill, Filling with light the distant vales, that seem To clap their hands with joy at his return ! Look at his nearer flood of radiance Flung o'er fair Shushan's roofs and pinnacles ! Behold the tree-tops of our palace-garden Bespangled with the morning's dewy tears ! — Lo ! how the citron, palm, and pomegranate, And rose-bush, where our sweet Memnonian bird, The Bulbul, sits a-singing to his rose. Enkindle up their beauties to the morn. And, with a whiter and more fragrant bloom. Embower our palace in their branchy arms ! — Look at these beauties, and these splendours all ; — Look at the sun, — the marvellous instrument, The glorious work — and praise thou Him that made it, ' — Choltah ! I do not worship God's bright sun, Yet, in this glorious dawn, and day of joy, I joy me, too, as one that worships him. Choltah. 'Tis piety, and conscious innocence That form the day-spring of the happy mind ! M 176 ESTHER, Esther. Yea — so, my dearest handmaid ! — Sure 'tis thence That I'm to-day so fully of gaiety : Oh, how my bosom strangely fluctuates Between alternate confidence and fear ! Last night I laid me down upon my couch In heaviness, and, when I thought upon My people, and my kindred, in affliction, A flood of tears gush'd forth upon my pillow. Yet God pour'd out upon my laVring soul The spirit of sweet sleep, (to his belov'd He giveth sleep) ; and all the night I lay Rapt into bliss, mid golden- winged dreams, 'Scaped from the crystal-gates of Paradise, Such as are only known to happy minds, Peaceful and pure, of whom th' Almighty makes His angels, fiery-wing'd, the guardians. And now mine eyes are lightened, and my heart Braced with celestial fortitude, t' achieve Deliverance and enlargement to my people, If God shall, in a feeble woman's hand, Prosper salvation. — But I must prepare For this day's proper doings. — Hast thou learn'd, From palace-talk, or rumour, at what hour To-day, the king comes forth to occupy A DRAMATIC POEM. 177 His royal throne within the royal house, Conspicuous to his court ? Choltah. To-day, O Queen ! Being the festival which Shushan keeps In honour of her full-orb'd God — to him At mid-day, Persia's monarch, with the flov\^er Of all his princes, in the palace-court, Burns, in a golden grate, a sacrifice Of India's choicest spices. Esther. At the hour, Say'st thou, of mid- day ? Choltah. When their restless god, That like a post-haste courier flames along From east to west, on Heaven's star-studded road, Coursing in pomp around the zodiac, Darts down direct a perpendicular ray Upon the city Shushan. Esther. Then, my Lord Comes forth ? Choltah. The king of Elam then comes forth, Array'd in all his many-colour d robes, The high tiara set upon his head. Gorgeous with gold, and rows of radiant pearl : And, having fired within its chafing-dish That odoriferous ofiering, he takes 178 ESTHER, His seat upon the royal throne, within The royal house, right o'er against the gate, There to receive, from his assembled princes, The homages, and salutations, due From liegemen to their lord. Esther. The time will suit, Th' occasion well agrees — 0, 'tis all set, Arranged and methodized, methinks, by heaven. For a rejoicing issue ! — Go, my handmaid, Prepare my jewels, and my royal crown. Mine Indian odours, and my oil of myrrh. My ivory- palaces of cassia. For this day's most approved and pious uses : — Unlock my choicest wardrobe, where repose My mantles of wrought-gold, my moon-like tires. My aloes-breathing robes of needlework. All the rich garb, wherein I was apparell'd What day I first appeared before the king, And he did set the royal crown upon My head, and made me queen instead of Yashti. I must betrim myself to-day in all My rarest ornaments of royalty ; Arm me, all over, with a woman's power ; Enshrine my person in a majesty, A tenfold majesty, of living charms, A DRAMATIC POEM. 179 'To take by force, and ravish from my lord His heart, with stronger love than on the day Whereon he queen d the child of Abihail : — What saith my handmaid ? Doth not Piety To God, and to my kin, alike approve The seemly stratagem ? Doth not the aim Make innocent, yea, sanctify the deed ? Choltah. Let my queen do, as her inspired breast Solicits her, for such embolden'd thoughts Can only come from some inspiring source. — I go, thine handmaid, to fulfil thy charge. — As blessed is the aim, so be the art Crown'd, as it merits, with a blessed issue ! SCENE IV. Cabinet in the Palace, Ahasuerus, Ha man. Ham AN. My Lord, O King, I come at thy com- mand. To hear thy royal bidding, and obey. 180 ESTHER, Ahasuerus. Haman 1 I find there are some oversights In this our kingdom's daily governance. Haman. Let the king hint his world-command- ing will, And what hath been o*erpass*d, in negligence, Shall be recovered by swift afterthought. Ahasuerus. Haman — I find that, in our Persian court. Honour is lame, and, after honest merit, Comes limping, impotent to overtake And 'rich her with due favours. Haman. Then, my lord, If honour should be found, at Persia's court, Haply to halt or loiter in his pace, Speak thou, and he will straight resume his speed, And rush to overtake the honour-worthy. Ahasuerus. Let Honour, then, at my command, wax swift Of foot, and lag not so dishonourably. Haman. What doth my lord, by these too-dubi-- ous words. Enjoin his servant to perform ? Ahasuerus. To him, O Haman 1 whom the royal choice selects A DRAMATIC POEM. 181 To deck and dignify with special grace, What shall he done ? Ham AN {To Minself.) It is of me he speaks — Me, me, he means — to whom more than myself, Delights the king t' extend his special honour ? Me his right arm ! My lord, O king, for him (To the king.) Whom thou delightest in thy royal mind To deck and dignify with special grace. Let be brought out the royal yestments all Which the king useth on state-days to wear, And the gold-bitted steed whereon he rides. And the crown-royal which is set upon His head ; and let this steed, and this apparel, Unto the hand deliver d be of one Of your most noble princes, that he may Therewith array the man that thou de lightest To honour ; and, on horseback, through the streets Of this great city, bring him, and proclaim Before him, with the sound of many a trump, — - Thus to the faithful man shall it he done^ Whom the king gratefully delights to honour I AHAsrERUS. Make haste, then, Haman ! take the royal robes, Wherein at Yashti's feast I sat arrayed. 182 ESTHER, And take the steed whereon that day I rode, And do, as thou hast said — even all so do, To — Mordecai, the Jew, that daily takes At the king's gate his seat — let nothing fail Of all that thou hast spoken. Ham AN (with surprise,) It shall be, My Lord, done all according to thy word ; — (To himself.^ But with a forward and inverted will. Most cross unto the visible performance. To Mordecai ! — the death-designed Jew ! The man that sitteth forward in the gate ! Confusion covers me at this command ! ACT lY. SCENE I. Jewish Synagogue, Hebrews, Hebrew Women, and Children. Choir of Hebrews Clinging,) I. Thou, whose dwelling is on high, Whose palace-precincts are the sky ; Whose shadow is the mid -day sun ; Whose glory hath been seen by none \ A DRAMATIC POEM. 183 Look on us, Lord, thy children, here Assembled in thy love and fear ! Choir of Hebrew Women. 2. O Thou whose hand, with easy sway, Guides huge Orion on his way, And gently to thy purpose brings The hearts of people, and their kings, Look on us. Lord, thy children, here Assembled in thy lore and fear ! Men. 3. Swifter than eagles, Lord, are they Who persecute us as their prey ; They hunt our steps in street and way ; They chase, insult us, and waylay ; Unless thou help, our end is near ; Help, help thy children. Lord, and hear ! Women. 4. As maiden's eyes to mistress' hand Look tremblingly, and wait command. 184 ESTHER, So here, in our afflicted state. Our eyes upon the Lord do wait. Till mercy he and help afford ; Have mercy, hear, and help, Lord ! Both Choirs of Men and Women. 5. All day, from morn to noon I cry ; From noon to dewy eve I sigh ; My grief-worn eyelids know not sleep ; I sit and wail, I watch and weep ; I cry, I shout, in my despair ; Shut, shut not out, O Lord, my prayer ! Choir of Children. 6. Hear us, our fathers' God, as we Spread out our little hands to thee ! O wipe away our mothers' tears ; Still, still, O Lord, our fathers' fears ; Our childhood-sobs we join with theirs : Hear, hear O Lord, the childrens' prayers ! Chief of the Synag. (Interrupting the singers,) Pause ye, my friends, and give a little rest A DRAMATIC POEM. 185 Unto your loud lamentings and your prayers ; — Danger and Death are now most imminent — \Tumult is heard from without^ whilst the outer gate of the Court of the Synagogue fixes open. Hark, the loud din without ! — The barred portal That safeguards our assembly — 1st Elder. — Is thrust open — 2d Elder. And one, who seems a palace-officer, With eager step and mien, advances hither. Fraught with important tidings — Chief. Hark ! without The fury musters, and makes dreadful head : — List ye the outcries, and wall-piercing noise Of Shushan's raging people in the streets, As if all banded and tumultuating Against us miserable — 1st Elder. The din of tongues Increases, and draws nearer — 2d Elder. 'Tis the people ! O mercy ! 'tis the people ! — On our heads Comes bursting now their fury ! Chief. If we die, O friends 1 let us die here — within our house, Our holy house of sacrifice and prayer. 186 ESTHER, Before our altars, with our wives and children, Our congregation of dear fellow- worshippers, Gather d around us ; — from God*s house on earth, Let us ascend unto God's house in heaven. With prayers for our enemies ! Men. Gracious God ! Shield us from human wrath ! Women. Oh, shield us, Heaven ! Children. Save, save us Gracious God ! \_The inner door of the Synagogue noic is seen to ope7i. All. Woe unto us ! Our hour — our hour of death — [[Hatach, the Chamberlain of the Queen^ enters suddenly, Hatach. Rejoice, O sons of Zion ! Sing with joy, O ye her weeping daughters ! Clap your hands, Ye little children ! Now your cup hath passed, Mercy and peace now visit you from high ! Chief. O to our God be praise ! All To God the praise ! Hatach. Your cup hath pass'd — your cup of trembling, charged With the full fury of malicious man, Hath passed your lips, untasted, and returns Back to the mouth of him who charged it, A DRAMATIC POEM. 187 The dregs whereof that mouth of wickedness Shall wring out, and shall swallow, till his bowels Shall with the burning draught be all consumed ! Rejoice, ye sons of Israel ! — Now your dawn Of joy, and light, and honour, is up-sprung ; A cup of consolation hath been mix'd. For you, your sons and daughters, by the God That guards the exiles of Jerusalem ! Chief. Our tears of sorrow by these welcome words Are changed to tears of joy — one little moment, On whose sharp edge suspended, life and death Hung, as it were in balance, hath achiev'd A change of mighty moment, which our souls. Wasted with weary weeping and distress, Have, in its fullness, scarce the pow'r t' enjoy. Or, in its suddenness, to comprehend. 1st Elder. Tell us the grounds of our imparted The heav'n-made means of our deliverance. That we may, calmly, and by slow degrees. Glide into the full measure of our mirth. Hatach. To Him, who turns and twines the hearts of kings. As waters of a garden -rivulet. 188 ESTHER, According to his pleasure — to Him, first, And, next, and, under him, his instrument. To Elam's queen, is your enlargement due. 2d Elder. O tell us all the process, and the manner - Whereby that glad fulfilment came about ; That, whilst we joy in the result, we may Mix with that joy our gratitude and praise To the thrice-blessed causers of our joy. Hatach. The queen, as you do know, had liv'd aloof For thirty days, within her palace-chamber. Unseen, uncalled, uncherish'd, by the king ; Hence, when the bruited news came to her ears. How that her people were mark'd out for death. Throughout her empire, on one slaughterous day, To perish all, to be destroyed and slain. Her Persian realm to be their slaughter-house — Disconsolate, drooping, desolate, she sat. Fearful yet fain, heart-wavering, yet willing T* intrude with supplication on the king ; For Persia's law is binding, that whoso Shall penetrate the king's interior court, Uncaird, shall die — excepting such to whom The king his golden sceptre shall hold out — Yet, yet in face of this death-threat'ning bar. A DRAMATIC POEM. 189 And, in defiance of the Persian usage, Emboldened by her virtue, and her God, She dar'd to violate th' unforgiving statute, And hazard and expose, even to the teeth Of patent death, her royal life and person. Chief. Alone, and unattended, did she pass Within the perilous, forbidden precints ? Hatach. Alone, unguarded, unaccompany'd. Save by her own unconquer'd majesty, Her host of noble king-subduing charms. I saw her in her beauty ; clad in all Her robes of royalty ; her diadem Magnificently set upon her head ; Her gestures more than royal ; and her steps Moving divinely to sweet harmony. As if some angel, chiming in the spheres. Adjusted and attun'd their heavenly motions To his sky-ringing lyre. Chief. The throned king. What thoughts or feelings did he manifest At this, his queen's intrusion ? Hatach. The king, Having just lighted up his incense-grate To Persia's God, was sitting on his throne Exalted, with his servants all about, 190 ESTHER, On right hand and on left, a noble row Of princes, Persia''s flower of chivalry, Doing their homage to the fragrant flame, That fluttered up its spiry tongues before them, As if to greet the sunny mid-day god, The father of all dim terrestrial fire ; — When, silently, with seraph-step, the queen Came in among them, like Aurora's breath. By stealth from the rich chambers of the dawn, Into the heart of some rose-braided bower : — In front, yet distant a brief space, she took Her place ; and now was standing eminent In all her beauty's bright magnificence. Fair as the moon, when, from the Indian sea Emerging, full, and round and clear, she comes Upon the eye of mariner, that sails Round by Comaria's fragrance-flinging cape. She stood, majestic in her modesty ; And, with her look, omnipotent, yet meek, Before her, and all round about her, seem'd To operate enchantment, where she stood. The princes stood at gaze, and marvelling At what might be the cause, and what the sequel. Of her so venturous approach : The king Sat captivated, spirit-bound — his eye A DRAMATIC POEM. 191 Caught and compelFd, as by a charm, his soul With admiration ravish'd and with love. He sat a moment thus ; — suspense, meanwhile Strangled each breath — and then the monarch held The golden sceptre, that was in his hand, The sign of favour, and of dear acceptance. To the queen forth, and she with grace drew near. And touched the top of th' sceptre. Chief. Caught thine ear With what words he accosted her ? Hatach. " What wilt thou ? Queen Esther ! said he, " What is thy request P Ev'n to my kingdorris half^ it shall he given thee :" And the queen answered, — " 1/ it shall seem good Unto the king^ let the King come^ and Haman This day^ unto the banquet^ that for him I have prepardJ" — '' Cause Haman to make haste^' Reply'd King Ahasuerus, " that he may Do ichat Queen Esther says^ and come to-night Unto the banquet that she hath prepared/' And Haman goes to-night unto the banquet Queen Esther hath prepared. With such a sequel, So glorious to the queen and to her people, So ominous, and with disaster big 192 ESTHER, To Hainan, as to-morrow will give proof, Was crown'd this trying and eventful hour ! Chief. And Shushan*s people — know they these events, And celebrate them, or with cries of wrath. Or shouts congratulant, that thus their din Is heard ascending round us ? Hatach. Tush — my tongue, Though rapid in its joy-deliverance. Hath not as yet been able to overtake This other gladness - sealing incident! — ■ As from the palace-garden, I came hither, Charg'd by Queen Esther to communicate These tidings to her kindred gather'd here, Lo ! at the top of the great street, that from The palace leads to Shushan's western gate. Were standing the queen's uncle Mordecai, And the arch-plotter, th' Hebrew-hating Haman, Environed with a curious multitude Of princes, and plebeians, summon'd round By clarion's call to witness and partake The spectacle about to be shown off; — Beside them stood the noble-headed steed, Whereon the king, through Shushan's streets, is wout To ride, trapped gallantly, and into foam A DRAMATIC POEM. 193 Champing his golden bit, as if he scorn'd To feed on ought but Ophir's beaten gold. The trumpets sounded then ; and Haman took Th' apparel which the king is wont to wear, With the crown royal which is set upon His head, and, in the sight of God's bright sun, And all the Persian people, did array With these the man he hated, Mordecai ; And held the stirrup to him, as, with shouts Congratulant from all the multitude. The Jew was mounted on the royal steed. Which seem'd to bow down gently to receive A rider, by his master honoured so ; And — Thus shall it he done unto the mail Whom, for his truth, the king delights to honour ! Was loud with merry trumpet-clang proclaim'd : I followed in their train, as down they past Through the great street, whilst th' humbFd I-Iainaii walked Before the steed whereon the Hebrew sat. And ever and anon proclaim'd aloud, — Thus, thus shall it he done unto the man Whom, for his truth, the king delights to honour ! Thus, hath the faithful Hebrew, who preserv'd The life of Persia's king, by Persia's king 194 ESTHER, Been honoured with an honour almost kingly. I left the street tumultuating, full Of glad applauders, that, with loud huzzas. Follow the Jew's triumphant cavalcade ; Whilst Haman walks a-foot, as heralding The glory of the Jew. Chief. To God the glory ! To him, who smite th through the cursed proud, But beautifies the meek with his salvation. Making him high in honour ! Hatach. In this joy, Felt more intensely from preceding grief. Having discharg'd my happy embassy, I leave you, friends ; and, from your house of prayer, Now not th' abode of weeping, will report To the queen Esther our dear kinswoman, Your gladness and your holy thanksgivings. Chief. Heav'n's grace be rain'd in richness on our queen, The minister of God to us for good ! All (singing,) 1. Thee, thee, O Lord 1 I'll magnify, For thou hast lifted me on high ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 19.5 My foes, that sought me to destroy, Thou hast not made o'er me to joy ; O Lord, my God ! I cry'd to thee, And thou hast heard and healed me ! 2. Weeping, and woe, and sad affright, May tarry with us for a night ; But joy, so soon as night-shades fly, Comes riding up the eastern sky ; O Lord, my God, I cry*d to thee. And thou hast heard and healed me ! 3. O thou, my glory ! praise and bless Him who relieved my souFs distress ; My tongue ! my harp 1 my heart ! extol Him, who hath heal'd my sorrowing soul ; Him, who hath set me up on high. Him, him, my glory ! magnify ! 4. O sooner shall the rising sun Forget his day-long race to run. 196' ESTHER, Sooner the moon forget to move Her ever- wheeling orb above. Than my glad soul forget to bless Him, who hafch heaFd her deep distress ! SCENE II. The Street of the City, Persian Potter, Persian Water-carrier. Potter. Whither so fast, my pitcher- friend ? Water-carrier. Why, homeward, — Home to my fruitage-supper — somewhat gnaw'd By hunger — and no wonder, having march'd All day from th' upper to the nether town, In the procession of the honest Jew. Potter. Saw ye it out from first to last ? — I stay'd But the beginning. Water-carrier. Tuts — I saw the whole, From where the king's apparel was put on, To where the high-brow'd Haman took it off, A DRAMATIC POEM. 19? And the huge rahblement of Persian folk, Cry'd, — Long live Mordecai, the honest Jew ! It a was day — few days like this in Shushan ! Potter. So now our king his honour hath re- trieved. And paid, though late, the heavy-hanging debt Of gratefulness to the good foreigner. Who sav'd from the twin cut-throats, Persian-born, His valued life. AY ATER -CARRIER. True, true, as says the saw Of Zoroaster — Gratitude, though late, Is better than no gratitude at all. Yet, after all, Achshirash is a king Not naughty-hearted, as your kings now go ; May-be he is too prompt, and nimble-passion*d, And, when the grape's-blood quickens him, men say, The simoom-tempest gets into his veins ; He's quick and furious or for good or ill, — Rather for good than ill, when following His own complexion ; but when, having done Ea^I, from evil counsel, he detects Himself as naughty doer, he rebounds Back into good with such a devil-fury That good men are astonish'd, and hold up 198 ESTHEK, Their hands upon their eyes, as if asham'd Somewhat of goodness. Potter. Ay, friend, such the state Of kingship — Kings withal (between us twain), Are but a hapless generation ; They say, Achshirash does not sleep a -nights. Rests in his ease- couch very ill at ease. Bolts up at midnight, as if thistle -stings Had sprouted from his bed-clothes, cries for lights, And will have some amusement made of noise, Poets (your Persian) — readers — dulcet singers, ^ — To tickle his King's-ears, and drive the demon Down from his palace to the dark town-lanes, Where you and I inhabit. Water-carrier. Let him keep His kill-sleep Demon to himself ! Would but he, When visited with these unsleepy spasms, step down Into the quarter of the water-carriers, We would him learn, and lesson, well the trick Of sleeping soundly : — A good pair of pitchers. Appended to his shoulders, and all day Well-swung and dangled round from street to street, With weight of water for the water-buyers, Would work out slumber for him. Potter. Nay, sweet friend. A DRAMATIC POEM. 199 If lie for this needs bodily exercise, He'd get a better jading at my pots ; Would lie but take a blood-uprousing spell Of day-work at my foot- whirled, bickering wheel, 111 warrant good his majesty a night Of noble sleep, sufficient for a king. — But, hush — of good Achshirash ; — let him pass ; — Observed you Haman's face, the Am'lekite, To-day, as he walk'd on ? E'er saw you features, "Wherein, by Nature, Pride had built her nest, Squeezed and contorted to such agony Of self-restraint and curs'd dissimulation, Proving a spirit yex'd and mortify'd. As his, when he paraded through the streets. As beadle to the good man Mordecai ? Water-carrier. I did enjoy the anguish of his face. Potter. But the good Mordecai ; albeit he had Upon his head the crown of royalty, And the king's garment flaunting from his shoulders — Saw'st thou his simple, unassuming, bearing, How meekly, modestly, he sat it out. Blushing at all the honours forc'd upon him ? AYater-carrier. I mark'd him well ; and thence I do affection 200 ESTHER, This self-same Mordecai : — Albeit a Jew, I'd rather have him for my creditor, Than yon high-look'd, proud-hearted, Am'lekite, Who seems to look upon the sun and moon, As chiding them that they do shine upon Another human creature than himself; — So tower aloft to heaven his Babel-brows ! Potter. True — true — his towering top doth reach the heaven ;-— Yet, yet, methinks, as thou remarkest well, I'd rather owe this Jew a thousand darics, Than twenty silverlings to this haught Haman, Whose every feature scowls, and would up-rip, Ev'n froift your bowels, the few silverlings. — Certes, these Hebrew folk are evil spoken of, — Both men and women — Persia's babbling tongues Scourge them too strong ; — what though they have their God, And worship him according to their guise ? They're loyal subjects, and they're honest men. — But come, let us pass hence — Pray walk with me * Home to my tenement in Potter's-lane ; — There we shall sup on peaches and on pease. And, in a homely cup of potters'- ware, A DRAMATIC POEM. 201 Be pot-companions, honouring the health Of the meek Mordecai, the faithful Jew. \JExeunt. SCENE III. Chamber in Hainan s Palace, HamaNj Zeresh. Ha MAN. Sweet wife ! The planets of this luckless day, Have turned yesterday all upside down ; Would I had been in Midian with my flocks. By the rock Jokthan, where a wall of cliffs Had hedg'd me in from the huge infamy, And shame, and disappointment, and confusion. That met me every step I took to-day In many-streeted Shushan ! Zeresh. O, my Lord ! Ambition has its little stumbling-blocks. Snags of obstruction, that do, now and then, Still catch and intercept the foot of him Who marches up the mountain of world's grandeur. 202 ESTHER, *Tis but a petty tingling of the toes, For one poor moment ; when the stound is o*er, Onward and upward doth the great man march With doubly-quicken'd pace, until he reach The summit, where he stands a-top, a-towering, With nought between him but the sun and moon, His fellows in the higher ranks of being. Ham AN. {In a reverie,) By Mithras and the heavens ! I hate him — who? — the man that moves not, bows not, Whose name I cannot utter with my lips, But deeply, deeply, lies it in my heart Inseparably coiFd up as a serpent. O may Arabia's vultures tear that heart Out from my tossed and tormented bosom, Ere it shall ever entertain a thought Less full of sweet hate and malevolence, Towards the man that so deserves my hatred ! May Midian's rav'nous eagles from my temples Peck out my eyeballs, ere they brook the sight Of him — the hated ! Of him, in any other attitude. Than — hang'd up as a jewel-drop to deck The tree made ready for his execution ! But how ? and what ? — monstrous ! O confusion ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 203 Hang'd up !- — How can these hate-engender' d words Be reconcil'd with this day's forced practice ? 'Twas I, that cloth'd him with the king's apparel ! 'Twas I, that set the crown upon his head ! 'Twas I, that rear'd him on the royal steed ! 'Twas I, 'twas Haman, that went on before him. And cry'd aloud, that all the city heard, — " Thus, thus, shall it be done unto the man, The faithful man, the king delights to honour." Fie on the mouth, that could have utter'd it ! Shame overwhelm my face, that could endure To face out the indignity practis'd Upon myself in crying out his dignity ! Yet — all this I brook'd out — and here, within My own house, not far from the gallows-tree Rear'd for his death, I cowardly do live To think of it, to fret at it, and say, 'Twas I, that cry'd his honours ! Zeresh. O my Lord ! Accuse not thou thyself in thus enacting Such incongruities of thought and deed. Thy hatred is consistent, marching on In even tenor, and commendable. Sheer to its aim and end — thine en'my's ruin :-.- It is the king, thy master's, waywardness 204 ESTHER, Haman. The king, my master ! (I may speak of him ; — Our chamber's roof is not overlaid with ears — ) The king, my master, is as wavering- wild. As wind, and wave, and weather all together ; Is as unstable as the desert's sand ; As changeful as the twice-seven-visag'd moon ; As hot as is the siroc from the south ; As light as rolling-thing before the whirlwind ; As riving -violent as is the bolt Hurl'd by the hand of thunder on the tree ; All these extremes he proves to our extremity, And brings his servants into jeopardy By his unkingly rashness and caprice. Witness his lately-seal'd and sent decree. That every Jew in Elam should be slain, Ev'n in one day, men, children, women, all Hurl'd into one vast, undistinguished death. That every Jewish house should be a shambles — And here, to-day, as a preposterous prelude To this blood- work, comes in our Mordecai, Appareird in the king's own robes, and riding On his own steed, confounding his decree. And stunning blinded men with contradictions Too hard for explanation ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 205 Zeresh. I begin To fear these doiib tings, these backsliding fits. Of our imperial master — lest recoiling Back from tb' incensed mood wherein he, urg'd By thy incitements, seal'd the death-decree, He may, with more infuriate humour, wreak His vengeance on th' inciter, and thus balance Wrath against wrath. He, before whom to-day Thou hast begun to fall, is no mean head — He is the type and emblem of his nation — He is the persecuted, death -proscribed — Is the Jew Mordecai, for whom thou hast Laid up a chosen death ; — and now that his New-spangled star is risen up in the east, It bodes, my Lord, I fear, a sudden setting To thine i' th' west. Ham AN. Prithee, my dame — bode well, Leave to th' astrologers their twinkling stars. With all their cunnino- bodements thereon hanging. Up, my proud heart ! up ! cease not to aspire ! For why ? — Our house hath been disparaged, not degraded. Slighted, not sunk, o'erpast, but not overthrown ; — Are any of its mighty props and bulwarks Driven from beneath it by this mean affront ? 206 ESTHER, Is not the glory of my riches still Secure ? Can any Persian cope with me For the storVl gold ? Are not my sons and daughters In number as a flock, and mounted high In exaltation — with their multitude Hooping my greatness round, and pinning it In firmness to th' existing state of things, As th' Arab's tent is pinn'd firm to the ground By its great multitude of props and stakes ! Hath yet my towering state and elevation Been levelled down to the plebeian pitch Of Persia's horde of nobles ? — Ev'n to-day, That brings its buffet, brings its comfort too, Sufficient to compensate ill with good. And make forget dishonour in the honour Of being first at table with the king. For, know, sweet dame ! To-day, Queen Esther hath invited me Unto the banquet for the king prepared, Me only of the princes — with the king I dine to day ! Zeresh. Seize the time, My Lord ! — improve the banquet's jollity — When souls, the wine-flush being up, are pliant; Obliterate and dash out from the king's brain A DRAMATIC POEM. 207 To-day's more recent haps, and in their stead, Recall and re-instate him in the past. His wrath of yesterday : — urge home upon him His own promulg'd decree, his royal name Pledg'd to the provinces, in Median mode, Irrevocably — how the sword stands bare — How the tree waits — {Here Harbonah and Mehu- MAN, two of the King's chamberlains^ enter.) Harbonah. My Lord, Duke Haman ! we Come, at the King's commandment, to request In haste thy presence to the feast prepared By the Queen Esther, for the King and thee. Haman. I go, obedient to the royal call. \JExit with the Chamherlains, Zeresh. Heaven speed thee, O, my Lord ! — This feast, I pray, May it have happy ending to our house ! ACT Y. SCENE I. Banquet-room in Esther's Palace. Esther, Ahasuerus, Haman. Esther, I hope my Lord hath, with approving- eye, 208 ESTHER, Look'd on mj banquet's preparations, Accepting them, in bis benignity, From bis most loving servant. Ahasuerus. As a sign Expressive of thy loving beart, Queen Estber, Towards tby lord, wbose mood, new-form'd by tbee, Now drops cold court-formalities, and glories In pleased obedience to bis Lady's sway. Tby reign, my sweet dame, bas induc'd a cbange In Persia's cramp'd, uiicbanging court ; Ere wbile Tbe King demanded Yasbti to come fortb, And sbew ber beauty in bis banquet-ball. But sbe refused to come at bis command ; To-day, Queen Estber begs tbe King to come To ber wine-banquet, and the King comes fortb Obedient, as invited, Esther. Persia's ladies, From tbis example, will but study more To captivate and win, by modest arts, Tb' affections of tbeir lords, wbicb is tbe true Triumpb of woman, and ber bonour'd crown Surpassing, in its glory, tbe gold-crown Set up witb pearls. Ahasuerus. My queen's encbanting grace, Uniting both, gives lustre to botb crowns ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 20'' And he, thy husband crown'd, now for a season Before thee puts his proud tiara off, Proffering himself thv subject, and beseeching That thou would'st, to his kingly po\Yer, afford The opportunity of blessing thee. Up to thy passing merits, with some boon Befitting Cyrus' grandchild. Esther. O, my Lord. Thy hand and heart are gen'rous, and invite The free expression from my tongue — but this Poor bosom trembles. Ahasuerus. Wherefore hesitates Thy tongue to hint thy heart's desires ? Disclose Thy thought, and say what thy petition is, Queen Esther ! And it shall be granted thee : — And what is thy request, and it shall be Performed, ev'n to the half of this my kingdom ? Esther {hur sting iiito tears). O, my Lord ! — Ahasuerus. Why weepest thou ? vrliat mean These tears and these emotions, on a theme Foreign from tears, associate to joy Rather than sorrow ? Esther. How can I, my Lord, Ev'n in thy royal presence, keep my heart. From bursting out in sorrow, when that heart, 210 ESTHER, Nigh-broken, labours with the fear of death, For me, and for my people ? Ahasuerus. Fear of death ? For thee, Queen Esther, and thy people ! — AYliat Mean these strange words ? Esther (^Riswg fro'in her seat). My Lord, and royal husband ! A suppliant, here I stand before thee ! — But I do not ask from thee, or gold, or gems. Or pearls, or palaces, or provinces. To glorify my woman's yanity ; I do not ask the one-half of thy kingdom, To make myself co-partner in thy pomp. And ride in progress through th' admiring land, Partaker of the King's felicities ; — These, these I ask not ; — But, if in thy sight, King, I have found favour — if it please The King — Oh, let my life, at my petition. Be given me — let my people all be spar'd At my request ! Ahasuerus. Thy people's life — thy life — Queen Esther ! In what danger do they stand ? Who perils thee and thine ? Esther. O we are sold, 1 and my people, we are sold, my Lord, A DRAMATIC POEM. 211 To be destroyed, to perish, to be slain 1 Had we been sold for bondmen or bondwomen, My tongue would have been silent, nor would have Troubled thy royal ear with my complaint ; But we are sold, my Lord, for worse than bondage — I and my people, we are sold to slaughter, Sold to the sword, deliver'd to the death ! Ahasuerus. Who is the man, and where is he that durst Presume to do so in his heart ? Esther. The man, The adversary, and the enemy, Of me and of my people — he who hath Devis'd, and doom'd, and destined us to death, The plotter from whose spite-inspired breast Hath sprung a scheme so shameful-murderous, Blasting thy kingdom with depopulation, Sweeping my Father's people to the tomb, Effacing, from the earth's remembrance clean. The name and memories of me and mine, — The man, whose cruel heart hath hatched all this, Is — he that sits beside thee, my Lord, Ev'n this same cruel Haman ! Haman. {To himself,) Gracious Heaven ! 212 ESTHEK, What woe, what vengeance waits, for tliis, the head Of miserable Haman ! Ahasuerus, rin icrath,) He that sits Beside me, murderer of my queen and people ! — Whence, and on what pretences is queen Esther, Together with her people, thus exposed To damage and to death ? Esther. Because, my Lord, I am a Jewess !— -And my kindred, Jews ! {The King and Haman here start ic'ith surprise.^ ls\.j people, Jewry's miserable exiles ! This is your Lady's and her people's crime — This, this, the accusation and the ground^ On which we are betray' d — Ahasuerus. By him, to whom My favour hath been shown — to whom my ring, The pledge of royal trust and royal favour Hath been committed ? Haman. (To himself.) Ruin, ruin, death, O'erhang thee now, most miserable Haman ! Esther. Yea, O my Lord ! by him who hath empoison'd Thy royal ear with his malignities, Abus'd his noble function, and his trust ! — A DIIA3IATIC POEM. 213 Look on his countenance's self-accusation ! See the soul-tumults which a conscience causes ! See how the guilt, up from his hate-wrung heart, Where the blood-thirstiness had nurs'd itself. Comes mantling o'er his visage ! — Oh, no — no — Guilt cannot look on injur'd innocence — Those that his thought has sentenc'd to the death. How can his eye endure to look upon ? Look on me, Haman ! Think of Mordecai, Mine uncle ! All my people, young and old. Women, and little children, all mark'd off, All doom'd, in one black murder-making day ! Haman. (To himself,) O rather might the reddest thunderbolt, Laid up in heaven for those that merit death, And wish it, light on my devoted head. Than hear all this ! — Esther. Thou, Haman, art the man ! Thine is the slander and the accusation ! Thine is the writing and death-warrant drawn ! Thine is the sealing with the royal ring ! Thine are the orders given, the preparations, The blood-appointed day ! Haman . ( To himself, ) Strike I strike me, Heaven \ 214 ESTHER, Ahasderus. (Rising in great indignation.) My trust belied ! — the king's great name abus'd To a most bloody and most damned purpose ! Ha ! Is it so — me cheated — me betray' d — By falsehood and deceitful practises, Me made partaker of most innocent blood ! The royal goodness wickedly beguil'd ! The royal signet traitorously us'd For savage slaughter, as if I the slayer ! (The King retires hy a side Chamber^door into the adjoining garden of the Queen's palace. J Ham AN. (To himself,) The king — he is gone out in wrath 1 Death now awaits me — In my huge despair. To what shall I resort ? — Yield thou proud heart — stoop, haughty heart \ to this — This — which thine arrogance hath brought thee tO' — (^He throics himself in the lowest attitude of sup- plication on the couch of the Queen,) (To the Queen,) O Lady! look upon me in thy mercy, For in my guilt I cannot look on thee 1 Caught in the deadly snare I laid for others, Here, a poor trembling supplicant I lie. A DRAMATIC POEM. 215 Here, prostrate at thy feet, asliam'd, confounded, Crushed and distracted with the magnitude Of my own crime, which now appears in all Its fearful and abominable grossness, When back reflected to mj sinning soul By thy most pure and perfect innocence ! O spare the self-condemn'd, whose torturVl breast Already sinks under a thousand stings Inflicted on himself at sight of thee ! Spare him to undergo a life of pangs Sufficient to atone, for his misdeeds, By years of long and terrible endurance, As suits his heinously-enormous crime. Oh, by thy own sweet sinlessness of spirit ! By thy lov'd kindred, whom my hate has outrag'd, Thy lineage, and thy birth, of which, until Thy mouth reveard it, I was ignorant, — Oh, by the Hebrew's God, with whom is mercy ! Spare, spare the life of him, whose only plea For pardon is thy queenly clemency ! — My life !— Tis for my life alone I supplicate — Let all my gold and riches perish from me, Those honours, stuck upon me, let them perish — 216 ESTHER) Spare but my life — entreat the king to spare My life !— Esther. O tliou, who in thy wickedness Hast been ensnared — And art reserved- — But see ! (Here the King re-enters^ clad in red raiment. J My lord returns, apparelFd in his robe Of red, the sign of chafe and hot displeasure ! — Ahasuerus. What — hath th' arch-caitifF not achieved enough Of wickedness, unless he perpetrate And add another, more flagitious. To his already-monstrous heap of crimes ? — ■ — Before mine eyes, and in the royal house ? ( The King swnm,ons his guards and Cham- herlains from the adjoinifig antechamber, J Abigtha ! Harbonah ! Mehuman ! Biztha ! Seize, seize this man, and bind — Cover his face — (They seize., hind him., and cover his face.) Divest his finger of th' imperial ring, And lead him to the pomegranate, whereon The traitor Teresh, with his comrade, perish'd. Hi^RBONAH. O king ! if to thy servant's tongue thou wilt Grant brief permission — A DRAMATIC POEM. 217 Ahasuerus. Speak, Harbonah ! But let the words which thoti dost proffer, be Concurrent with my swelling tide of wrath. Harbonah. My Lord, King! be't known to thee that this Condemned man, in plotting other's death, Has, by a fatal and forestalling haste, Completed the adjustment for his own. Within his house's court, he has set up A gallows, fifty cubits in its height, Fronting the window of his dining-chamber, Whereon he had devis'd and purposed To hang, before the eyes of all his house, The man he hated, for the good to thee Spoken and done, ev'n Mordecai, the Jew, Whom in his grudge, he had prejudged to death. This I have learn 'd from the Artificer Employed in fabrication of the wood. Ahasuerus. Fit machination for such baneful brain ! To his own gallows drag him — pattern him, According to the example and the mode He had designed for others — flesh his gibbet With his own burthenous sin-laden carcase, That men may say, that see him, Lo ! the man 218 ESTHER, Of tnischief ! — His own mischief hath o'ertaen him ! Away with him to death ! — To-night's bright moon,— - Let her not set i* th' west before she fling His pendant shadow on his own house-wall. Ham AN. Woe, woe unto my pride and haughti- ness ! How hath that haughty spirit wrought my fall ! (He is dragged off hy the Chamberlains.) Ah ASUERUS. Now that our royal breath has blow u away This pestilence from off the world, 'tis time That modest merit should up-mount on high, And purify our realm from past pollution. My kingdom needs an arm, an ear, an eye To see, hear, act ; to whom th' imperial rule Can be confided safely; one who can By prudence disembarrass our affairs. Embroiled of late by this blood -meditater, And reinstall us in the public fame ; (To the Guards.) Call Mordecai, the Jew, the man who sav'd My life, when treachery encompassed it, And who, from this priz'd deed, which, till to-day. Lay back unrecompens'd, hath undergone. In meekness and humility, the scowl A DRAMATIC POEM. 21.9 And persecution of his envious foe. That deed doth in itself present a claim To our imperial favour, being done In the pure spirit of fidelity, Unbrib'd, unbargain'd for, and unsolicited, * And having, for its aim and scope, my life : That claim, already strong, is now become Of double strength, combined (as now we know) With circumstance of consanguinity To our beloved queen. Esther. My lord, and husband ! In the concealment that the Jew, who sav'd Thy life, was uncle to thy spoused queen, (For his was that injunction to conceal), Lurk'd no disloyalty nor disrespect : 'Twas but the virtuous diffidence of him Unwilling to ba noticed on the ground Of being so related ; he would not. That, to your royal ear, should be convey'd Matter to you so trivial. Ahasuerus. This reserve. By modesty suggested, doth the more Confirm to me his merit, and enforceth That claim, already strong enough, with such An amiable addition, that my choice 220 ESTHER, Of him — tlie saviour of my life, the uncle Of my queen Esther, th' unobtrusive courtier — To be my arm and empire's minister, Remains the more appro vVI, confirmed the stronger By every special commendation. (The Chamberlain leads in Mordecai.) Harbonah, My lord, O King, I lead into your presence. Him whom your word commanded — Mordecai. Ahasuerus. Hail and glad welcome to the faithful Jew ! Mordecai. O King, I heard thy summons — and obey'd, — And here, in silence, wait thy high commands. Ahasuerus. Stand forward, Mordecai! — Thou son of Jair, Approach ! — too long thou hast been thrust behind. Shaded and screened by thine own modesty ! The faithful man, and diligent and true. Shall stand in presence of the king, and not Be mingled with the invidious, and the mean. That push his unassuming virtue back. That so their meanness may steal all the notice. Stand forward, noble Hebrew ! and receive As thy deserved due, too long delayed, A DRAMATIC POEM. 221 Th' abundance of thine honour ; — Now, mine empire Is needful of an arm, t' administrate, In lieu of tliat cut off, as too corrupt. And rotten — Here I put upon thy hand My ring, the seal of rule — and throw the robe Of purple on thy shoulder — that, when thou Walk*st forth into our many-streeted Shushan, My people, by these ensigns, may discern, And recognise thy dignity. MoRDECAi. For this grace Shown by my lord, the king, unto his servant, How can his servant speak his grateful sense More strong, than by imploring that his God, The Hebrews' God, may out of Zion bless, king ! thee and thy house and land, that so Prosperity, and peace, and righteousness, May flourish in thy walls and palaces, And all thy kingdom be one house of joy ! Ahasuerus. Thou hast prevented, Mordecai, my tongue In this thy benediction and thy speech : 1 wish our Persia to be one house of joy. And Shushan it's chief chamber : — Wherefore, I Have caird, and do associate thee, to be My mate and help-fellow in this career 222 ESTHER, Of bliss-makiDg, that all my subjects may In unity and happiness be wedded. As in one noble marriage-feast of joy. MoRDECAi. To be thine arm, my lord, thine ear, thine eye. As coadjutor in beneficence, To point, anticipating, out the spots Whereon the royal goodness should be shower'd. Shall be, O King, thy servant's happiness. His duty, and his glory. Ahasuerus. For this purpose. The Haman-hatch'd, accurs'd, destruction -plot. Impending o'er thy fellow-Hebrews, must. By counter-edict straight, be obviated. Let a decree be written, to reverse (For Persia's evil laws may be revers'd) The letter of the Agagite, devis'd For til' extirpation of the harmless Jew ; Let it be drawn out in our royal name, And, with the king's ring, seal'd, and sent abroad To all our deputies, and province-rulers, A countermand of mercy, casting all The previous death-warrant into extinction. And, in its stead, presenting to the Jew Light and delight, and gladness, joy, and honour ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 223 And, to my Persian people, urging peace, And neighbourly regards, and sweet ajQfeetions, The solder and the cement of a state : Such also is the bond and chain that binds The monarch's life and welfare to the life And welfare of his subjects. MoRDECAi. These thy bests. My royal master, shall, with proper speed. Be expedited for the happiness And glory of thy people. Ahasuerus. For the house Of Haman, the Jew's enemy, — it is given To the queen Esther ; — let her exercise Her pleasure on the household of the man That would have slain her kindred. Esther. O my Lord ! Now that the master-mind, and arch-contriver, Hath been removed from his capacities Of mischief working, be it from us far, And from my kindred far, in his respect To wreak a vengeance, haply undeserv'd. On these, his seconders, or th' under guilty, Familiars in his house. Let me entreat My Lord's approval of my wish to spare His consort's life : His children and his house p 224 ESTHER, I do resign to Mordecai, my kinsman, To overlook and govern. Ahasuerus. His discretion Shall manage these and other our affairs, And bring them to conclusion, safe and glorious For Persia's king and kingdom. To his hands We thus, in whole, entrust th' administration. SCENE II. Chamber of Hamans Palace. Zeresh (Alone — looking from the Casement.) How sweetly shines the lady-moon to-night, Amid her sparkling family of daughters, Who, round about her silver-seated chair. Dance gloriously, in handmaidlike attendance ! Her beamy face ! — how clearly does it throw Off from the solid substances of things Their shadowy semblances, that paint the ground With figures darksomely distinct ! Our roofs, The parapets, and j)innacles, and points, Lie, in their impress'd likenesses, asleep A DRAMATIC P0E3I. 225 Upon the pavement- court ; — and the tall tree. 'Scap'd from Zagrean mount, and here set up Against my husband's enemy, and waiting His time — a*s yet unoccupy'd — flings out. As if in pride, his high-fork'd branchy arms, Abroad in beauteous adumbration Upon the ground beneath it. — But^ — behold ! (Looking earnestly from the Casement.) A band of men, with cressets and with torches, Passing the portals of the court — They're enter'd — Ha ! — dragging on towards the gibbet's foot A man, whose face is Gpver'd, and whose frame Quakes with death's terrors — Haply, may it be My husband's enemy ? — In likelihood, He whom our gibbet yearns for, Mordecai ! Now they draw nearer — now they bind the cord About his fated neck ! — His garb — his gestures ! By heaven ! they shew like Can it be ? — Oh ! too like ! too sure ! — Oh heaven 1 'Tis my own husband Haman ! 1 2 a ESTHER, SCENE III. Jewish Synagogue. Elders, PIebrews, &c. Chief of the Synag. O never, friends, since Time began to note Man's fates and fortunes in his chronicle. Hath ever happ'd an overthrow so strange. So full of dreadful warning and instruction ! Such a recoil of mischief murderous On the remorseless pate of the misdoer ! A fall so sudden, so precipitous. Into the pit which his own hands had dug Deep, deep, t' entrap the feet of Innocence ! One day comprised it all — the morning saw The haughty-hearted, lofty-brow'd, go forth Rejoicing from his palace — his proud looks Bespeaking empire, — in his garment's folds Sporting about capriciously the fates Of those his hate had, without cause, death-doom'd ; The evening saw him dragg'd, dishonoured, back A DRAMATIC POEM. 227 With cover'd face, a criminal, his eyes Denj'd their function, and his scornful heart Replenished rich with torturing contumely, A victim to his own iniquity; His demon-prompted mad machine of death, That, with uprais'd effrontery, did insult God and the heavens, devis'd for other's use. By Providence converted to his own ; And he, for whom he had intended it, Drawn up on high to occupy the place Of honour, which his villany had lost. O never saw the world such an example, So terribly exhibited, how Pride Precedes destruction, and a haughty spirit Towers highest when on very verge of fall ! His fall is our uprise ; — our nation now. Instead of sorrow, hath heart-filling joy, — Instead of sobs of mourning, happy hymns, — Instead of sackloth, garments of delight, — Instead of fasting, feasting : Jair's son. The representative of Hebrew glory. Hath come forth from the presence of the king, Appareird in his royal robes of blue. And white, and purple, with the jewelFd crown 228 ESTHER, Of gold upon his head ; the city Shushan Heaves, as a hive, with gladness, all her streets Bestrewed with flow'rs, and hung from side to side With palm-branch, and with myrtle; th' Elamite, As in one common grand deliverance, Shares th' Israelitish transport ; bright-cheek'd boys. Their turbans all with lilies bunch'd about, Eun, shouting, to and for ; while black-ey'd maids, Their sisters, hand in hand, parade along, Their bosoms full of ripe-red roses stuck. Spangling the way with Beauty ; lute and cymbal Ring up to heaven ; while from the rebec's strings. The hidden spirit of their harmony Comes twangling forth, as for a merry-make, Beneath the player s fingers ; joy disports, Triumphant ; and the city Shushan uow Deserves her name, all-gay as is the lily ; — We too, my friends ! Let us express our joy, as doth become us, With gravity, and yet with fervency ; Here, in this house of pray'r, that heard our sighs. Let now be heard, ascending unto heaven. The voice of holy mirth and thanksgiving. a dramatic poem. 229 Choir of Hebrew Men. I. The proud man, in his height secure, Stood up to persecute the poor ; His bow he bent, intent to slay ; Upon the string the arrow lay ; Th' Almighty rose, and smote him low. And into pieces brake his bow. Choir of Hebrew Women. 2. But yesterday, the scorner frown'd In wrath ; to day he is not found ; He is returned to dust ; his thought Of haughtiness is come to nought ; As worms his grandeur is become ; His glory shrouded in the tomb ! Men. 3. O Thou, that in the dust didst lie 1 Now is thy horn advanced on high ; The kings of th' earth astonish'd see The workings of thy God in thee : 230 ESTHER, For God hath now advanced thy name ; Thy glory floweth as a stream ! Women. 4. Yet, not with man, the glory be ; Weak, poor, and abject, what are we ? Our Father's help, in ancient days — His be the glory, his the praise ; To him we lift the grateful voice : His be the laud that gives the joys ! Both Choirs. 5. O God of mercy 1 that on high, Didst hear thy people's mournful cry, Accept these thanks — these tears that start Joy -pregnant, from th' o'er- teeming heart ! Our joys, O God, though great they be. Are magnify'd in thought of Thee ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 231 SCENE lY. Angel of Retribution. 'Tis done — the work which God commission'd me. His righteous minister, to oversee ; The man of lofty state hath been debased ; The man of lowly place hath been uprais'd ; Pride hath been scourg'd ; malignity of heart Hath been requited up to its desert ; Whilst Merit, Modesty, and Meekness, crown'd With just promotion, have their guerdon found ; And Peace^ Love, Joy, pervading every breast, Make the whole land, but chief its monarch, blest. Thus may the sons of men be taught how God For the proud -doer, hath a vengeance-rod; Guides those in judgment that his counsel seek. And, with salvation, beautifies the meek. The fall of Haman, in his engines caught, A fate so terribly with warning fraught. May teach the world, how, in that heart, where dwell The rankling passions, barns a quenchless hell ; 232 ESTHER. How Pride is Misery ; and, join'd with Hate, Works but his own, when plotting other's fate ; And that, how high soe'er the station be, Man's truest Greatness is Humility ! THE END OF ESTHER, OR FALL OF HAMAjS. THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM; A DRAMATIC POEM. DRAMATIS PERSON.E. Angels. Abraham. Lot. * Hathan, Eldest Son-in-law of Lot. "^ AcHZAN^ Junior Son-in-law of Lot. Eltezer, Steward or Chief-Shepherd of Abraham. Kings of Sodom, Gomorrha, &c. Priests of Baal-Peor, Asheerah, &e. Chief-Shepherd or Steward of Lot. Shepherds, Heralds, &c. * Melah, Wife of Lot. * Aharah, Eldest Daughter of Lot, and Wife of Hathan. Two unmarried Daughters of Lot. Shepherdesses. The Scene is laid at the Gates, or in the Town of Sodom, — the heights of Hebron, and Carmel, on the west of the Dead Sea, and commanding, from many points, a full view of the Lake, and of the Pentapolis, or Five Cities of the Plain. * These four names are, as the Bible-reader will readily perceive, arbi- trarj-, and are Hebrew words, having significations apposite for the person- ages. IMelah, Salt,— H&than, Son-in-Iau',—AQhzd.n, Contumacious,— Ahii- rah, She that hesitates. THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. ACT I. SCENE I. Plain of Mainre or Hebron. Abraham, Eliezer. Abraham. Go, Eiiezer ! leave thy herds a while To feed, untended, here, on Hebron's heights, And, with thy staff to stay thee o'er the brook Of Bela, hie thee, with unhalting foot. Eastward, toward the Cities of the Plain ; There, near the gates of Sodom, or within The confines of her slime-concocted walls. Find out my kinsman ; and impart to him The revelation angel-given, whereby We know the doom just, just about to fall 238 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. From God upon the wicked : — To thine ear I have reveal 'd the conversation held With One most holy ; to my brother's son Speak thou th' important message, wherein life Hangs periFd ; urge him in my name and words, To flee the sin-soiFd, fated territory, And leave the men of crime to undergo What God hath purpos'd. Eliezer. To my lord's command Obedient, I depart ; To-day's bright sun. That now is riding over Elam*s land, Shall, ere he droopeth toward Egypt's sea, Behold me entering in at Sodom's gates. To seek thy kinsman, and declare to him Th' angelical announcement. Abraham. Go thy way, Thou faithful servant! — May Heaven's peace and blessing Follow thee forth, and back again in joy Conduct thy steps to Hebron. A DRAMATIC POEM. 239 SCENE II. Front of Baal-jpeor's Temple in Sodom. King of Sodom. Priest, Herald, People. King {addressing the Priest). Now, Priest of Peor ! pass into thj shrine ; Consult thy god in secret ; and report To us the tenor of his mind and mood : Say, if he seals and sanctions with his smile The celebration of the Three-days' Feast, In honour of himself, and of the gods And goddesses of our Pentapolis, Propos'd by us his worshippers ; — this day To be his own, the prime of all the three ; The second to be bright AsheeraVs day. Both Sodom's queen and Bela's ; and the third. Fullest and last, the land's Panegyris, To be devoted to Gomorrha's god. Old Chemosh, and the goddess silver-shrin'd Of Admah and Zeboiim :— Enter then. Announce our purpose, and bring back the will 240 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, And nod of Sodom's deity. [_Friest enters into the shrine of the temple. King (continuing^ and addressing the People.) Fair auguries encounter us, my friends ; To-day it shinetli glorious ; all the sky, Swept by the south wind, clear from fog or cloud, Seems doubly purify'd, and garnish'd round. From rim to rim, with beauty and with light ; Look now up to its mighty spanning arch. And comprehend the glory overhead ; — Then downward — see the beauteous lake, whose face. Most clear, as is the molten looking-glass. Throws upward, back again into the eye. Heaven's sun-gemm'd, blue, convexity, with all Our shores of olives, vines, and fig-trees, hung With fruits and flowers, seen glittering in the wave Earth, like a bride new-trimm'd, doth seem on high T' up-shoot her blossom-tipt, sky-waving arms T' enclasp the sun, her jolly -groom, that comes Forth of his chamber prancing. 'Tis a day seemly-jocund to begin The circle of our Feast-jocundities, For Earth and Heav'n seem brush'd and burnished up : And man's desires, high-bounding in his breast. Crave to be richly quench'd and gratify'd. A BHAMATIC POEM. 241 He Cometh forth — {The Priest re-appears froin the shrine of the temple — the King^ addressing him^ continues,^ King. What countenance shews the god 'i Pleas'd or displeased ? Must we to-day defer, Or speed, to do his orgies ? — Speak it out. Thou, waiter on Baal-peor ! Priest. All the signs, O King ! bespeak th' accordance of the god : High on his golden chair, he seem'd to nod, Down from his lofty and roof-soaring brows. His acquiescence in the triple feast Designed to honour him. King. Then 'tis decreed : — Now, herald, put the trumpet to thy mouth. And peal the tidings to the city forth, Till every chamber ring a response back : Bid them prepare the feast, march forth in pomp, With lutes, and viols, and, in long array, To Peor's gardens ; be the tables set In every street, with roses strew'd, and wine, And banquet-cheer ; but chiefly in the courts Of this our Peor's temple, 'neath the grove Of pines and plane-trees, whose sky- fanning leaves 242 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Will gaily wave over the wassailers ; Bring fortli the table-furnisliiiigs of gold And silver, kept for holiday display ; The golden chalice, by Mizraim's art Carv'd into curious emblems, which the King Of Zoar sent a present to my sire — Be it brought forth, and crown'd ; — let rivers flow Of the rich juice, w^hose mother was the grape That grows beside Damascus ; be each heart Exalted, heav'd above humanity ; Till the man-gratifying, sensual, god, Himself be gratify'd, and smile to see Th' harmonious homage of his worshippers ! Herald (hlowing his trum,pet,) A Feast ! A Feast ! People of Sodom, 'tis your king that bids. Your god that backs the bidding ; 'tis his time Of celebration ; honour him, your god, With his due rites of city-ban quetings, And solace, of revelry and songs : — Prepare ye, then, the great Baal-peor's feast, And revel it in chamber and in street. Till every soul be satiated with cheer ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 243 SCENE IIL The House of Lot > Lot, Mel ah. Mel AH. It is a day, to Sodom^s citizens Festive and gay ; forth from their gates they go, Unto the southern gardens, with long pomp Of town-procession, in their summer robes Of gallantry array'd, men, women, boys. And damsels :— Let me go, my lord, to see, If not to share, the common joy. Lot. Be thou. My consort, far from such assemblages ; Approach not ; mingle not ; nor let thine eye Err, even in gazing on the outside show Of such celebrities. Melah. 'Tis not my heart That longs to join them in their idol-love. And idol-offering ; 'tis mine eye alone. That craves to gratify its fond desire, Upon the glitter of the glorious train, Dress'd up with roses, and bespangled o'er 244 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. With broider'd gold and silver blazonry, As to and fro they come and go. Lot. The eye, Ev'n when the heart is single, oftentimes Betrays and coys it off its watchfulness. By world's and ornament's seductive charms ; — Go not, my dame ! 'tis but a vanity, To be despis'd, not follow'd. Mel AH. Tis a toy, — The gaiety and gaudery of this world — To be amus'd with, — to be taken up, And cast aside at will ; Aye innocent, When that the heart is harmless, and all-proof Against the wiles of evil. Lot. Poison lurks Beneath the golden rind of the fair fruit. That woos the tongue to taste it. Peer's pomp, And gatherings, and idol-sacrifices. Are not for Terah's children. Melah. Too confined, And over-strict, is now my husband's mood ; — Not so in Haran's and my father's land ; Where, as the jewel-trick'd, gold-molten gods Of Ur were by their rob'd priests carried by, The sons and daughters of the city ran A DRAMATIC POEM. 245 Up, unforbidden, to their roofs, to spy The spectacle, as down the dazzled streets Th' idolaters went gliding, as a stream : Thus in Chaldean Ur ; but in this land Of Canaan, where the Amorite outshine The Chaldee gods, mj lord doth stint his heart, Denying us just pastimes. Lot. In the land Of thy left father, thou didst, with my house, Abjure thy father's yanities of gods, The Baalim, and Groves, and Ashtaroth, Whom thou with him didst serve ; and in their stead, Thou didst adopt the God that made the heavens, Ev'n Abram's God, the Living and the True ; — Their feasts, their rites, their pomps, their lewdnesses, Thou didst forswear ; nor, in their secrecies Alone, but in their gay publicities : O go not, then, my dame, ev'n with thy look Into their secrets ; with their troops and trains Let not the honour of thy husband's house, Ev'n in the mere appearance, be conjoined. Here with thy daughters tarry thou, recluse. And guiltless ev'n of gazing on the pride Of sin that sweepeth by ;- — Let Sodom^s men And Sodom's women reel ! 246 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Mel AH. The blameless soul^ Of its own virtue conscious, and secure In its stay'd purposes of rectitude, Stands firm, unswerving 'mong a multitude That onward rush to evil : — In this thing Minute, of my desire, be not my lord Displeas'd that I prefer to please my heart ; — • Yea — 'tis his honour that I follow not His wish expressed, for, were I conscious less Of innocence, I would be more inclined To yield compliance, and to tarry back, Weak, and self-doubting, from that city-show That so bewitcheth me. \_She departs from the Chmnher, Lot. She goes, and leaves Her husband more distemper d, than displeas'd : Woman ! I do not for thy virtue fear ; — It is thy proud unruliness of spirit. Thy haughtiness, so froward to advice, That startles me. — I pray my God it prove To her no source of evil ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 247 SCENE lY. The Southern (or EllassarJ Gate of Sodom, Lot, Hathan, {cind to them Eliezer.) Lot. Here, in this shade, my son ! — here let us sit Cool, quiet, and sequestered from the din Of our mad city, whose heaven-scoffing shout. Sent up in honour of her revel-god. Hateful (though harmless here) comes in our ears, Like sound of the long surge that breaks in foam On Gaza's sandy shore : — Hark ! how the peals Ascend ! — The city-walls can scarce contain The clamour, and the restless revelry. That agitates her people. — We are well Apart, and sunder'd from the sinfulness Of their intemperate, lewd, idolatry : For this their god, who is no god, enjoins Not temperate enjoyment, but excess, E/iot, and huge indulgence, and misrule, That banish all reflection, and strike off The bars of sober Reason from the soul. Letting the baser passions headstrong loose 248 THE DESTRUCTION' OF SODOM, To infamous, wild energy, whereby Man mars his bright divinity of image, And, like his lewd and brute-compounded idol, Imbrutes himself with vileness. Hathan. How unlike To the Great Name you worship ! Lot. True- — compard With this, the Amorite's idol- vanity, And the lewd service that deforms his courts, How pure, how full of glory, is the God Of Abram ! He who looks upon the pure Of yonder Heaven, and deemeth it unclean, Yea, even his angels chargeth as imperfect. Behold, how good he to his creatures is ! This earth, even as the garden of the Lord, How hath he water'd and enriched it ! Hills, valleys, bank of brook, and lip of lake, Hung thick, as in his Paradise, with fruit ! Nor hath he given it to the eye alone. An ornament to gaze at ; to the hand, And mouth, he hath commended it, and said, Pluck, eat, enjoy ! — Yet, when he bids enjoy. He urgeth temperate, not intemperate use, — The wise man's sweet refreshment and regale. Breeding tow'rd friends hilarity of heart. A DRAMATIC POEM. 249 And, tow'rd tli' Almighty giver, gratitude ; Not over-gorg'd indulgence and abuse. Strife -gendering, dashing out all thought of good, And deluging the soul with sin and death. Thus do Baal-peor's worshippers pervert Enjoyment ; and, what God hath, in his grace, Given to rejoice man's spirit, they have made The things that minister to lustfulness, And penitence, and death. — Far be from us To mingle in such orgies ! — But — behold ! A stranger on the southern road — His steps. Addressed to us, haste hitherward — Methinks, 'Tis one from Abram's tents — (Eliezer appears.) Eliezer. Hail, O son Of Haran ! and a blessing from the God Of Abram, both on thee and on thy house ! Lot. Child of mine uncle's house, be thou too bless' d ! I greet thee with glad welcome ; — Is it well With Abram's house, and with his flocks ? Eliezer. Tis well, My lord, with Abram's house, and with his flocks ; High on the heights of Hebron, that overlook Your rich and sunny valley, are his tents 250 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Pitcli'd prosp'rously ; and his large flocks and herds, 'Tween Mamre and the Hittite's frontier-land, Feed quietly within their hilly range, Attended by their herdrnen : His domain Is wide, and safe, and lacketh danger ; — God Foreshows no evil to the shepherd-land Chos'n by thine uncle ; 'tis to this rich plain, Thy choice, that Abram's God doth signify Th' approaching fury of his wrath. Lot. What means This dark, ill-omen'd, prelude ? Eliezer. O my lord ! Be not offended at my sudden speech ; — I speak not from myself ;— It is thy friend, The son of Terah, and thy father's brother. That speaketh, when thou hearest these my lips Announce thy peril, and the dreadful doom Impending o'er this city. Lot. Say what doom Thou hintest — earthquake, thunder, fire, or flood. Or sword of foe ? Eliezer. My lord Hath AN. {Interrupting Mm.) Your Mamre's plain, Founded on rocks, and iron-bound with cliffs, A DRAMATIC POEM. 251 No doubt, is stable ; but, me thinks, our vale, Imbedded low between the mountain-rows, Is solder'd with bitumen ; Earth may quake All round, and shake her mountain-pillars down Ere it shall thrill through Siddim's vale ; — Our folk Shall sleep, as in their cradle, all secure. When, on your mountain-terrace prominent, Your herdmen and your herds, in terror, shall Rock to and fro in heaven- Eltezer. I come not charged. My lords, t' interpret by what instrument, Earthquake, or thunder, fire, or flood, or foe, Heav'n shall fulfil it's purpose ; — 'Tis not mine To search into the hidden ; — but I come To tell what is reveal'd — that God hath doomed This city to destruction ! Hathan. 'Tis a tale Brief, but most violent in its shock. Lot. Thy words Carry enough of dreadful to alarm Hearts less impressible than ours ; — Hath he, My kinsman, in a vision been forewarned ? Or have the Seraphim, within his tent. Whispered the secret to his ear ? Eliezer. Nor dream. 252 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Nor night-voice, nor the whispering Seraphim, Have, to thy kinsman's darkling ear, convey' d An inkling of the future ; — but most clear. At noon-day, when the prone spring-flood of beams Falls on the world, a Holy One appear d Before him, brighter than the sun that shone In glory overhead ; a golden girdle Compressed and gathered in his garment's folds ; His eyes were as a flame of fire ; his feet Were as the burnish'd brass, or sardine-stone That forms the orient gate of heaven ; his right Hand held a golden vial, which was full Of the ripe wrath of Him that ever livetli ; — His lips he open'd ; — and, in earthly words, He parleyed with thy kinsman, as a friend, Of Justice, Mercy, Truth, and Righteousness. He said, — The cry of Sodom was gone up^ Because their sin was very grievous ; then He turned his face toward the Siddim-vale, And with a shout, — Woe to th* inhahiters ! He pour'd his vial out upon the land. And sea. Lot. These words, that action, are a sign Too pregaantly significant ; and, join'd With this Baal-peor's worship, the rude roar A DRAMATIC POEM. 253 Of Eevelry and Rage that tlie near city Pours out upon our ears, more than suffice To warn us of the perils of the folk Immers'd in lewdness, luxury, and sin, With whom we do cohabit : — But, O, youth, Son of mine uncle's house, after thy toil Of journey, thou requirest rest, and food, And water to thy feet ; — Pass in, with me. Into my safe and peaceful house, that stands Retir'd from the main city; there we shall, Around our household-table, crown'd with cates Enlivening, yet temperate, talk at large Of these most strange forewarnings. — Go with us. My son-in-law ! for thou art of ourselves. Bound in one precious famly-bond of life. ACT II. SCENE I. Front of Asheerah's (Astarte's) Temple in Sodom. King of Sodom, Priest of Asheerah, Herald, People. King. Another day dawns bright ; the sun looks forth 254 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, From his bow'r-casement in the orient, As gallant, and provocative of joy, As he did yesterday : — Priest of Asheerah, (The goddess-queen of Bela and of Sodom, Whose head doth mimic the grass -chewing ox). Enter thy shrine — consult — and see — and say If to-day's time is timely for her feast — (The Priest enters the temple^ the Khi(j continues,) Each god and goddess in our ruhric-roll Must have his day, and duly be ador'd With rites and orgies seemly unto each ; Else would the hearts of these our golden gods With jealousy fret visibly, and subvert Our secular state and kingdom with their feuds, Begot of human preference. {The Priest re-ap- pears — the King addresses him.) Consulter of Asheerah ! say how looks The goddess ! — Thwartly, or auspiciously ? — - Priest. My lord, O king, our goddess on her face. Bears grace and kind acceptance ; she invites Your subjects to her feast. King. Then let the day Advance with joy — Sound, herald, with your trump — Announce the celebration to the city ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 255 • Herald {sounding his trumpet,) Joy! Joy! — Asheerah, to her festival. To-day bids male and female congregate, Within the grove of myrtle-trees, that girds Her temple round with salutary shade ; For there hath Pleasure built his golden bower : To this, her temple's master-luxury, Let all the streets, and openings of the gates, Houses and chambers, add their delicates, Of viands, wine, and rose, and song, till all The city swim from gate to gate in joy. Prepare ye, then, the great Asheerah's feast, And revel it in chamber, grove, and street, Till every soul be satiated with cheer ! SCENE II. The Southern {or Ellassar) Gate of Sodom. Lot, Hathan. (To them the Two Angels.) Lot. Here in the o'er-shaded seat, beside the gate. Sit we again, son-in-law ! remote R 256 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, From noise ; and here enjoy the setting sun, Half-hid behind the rocks of Engedi, Who, as he westerns down to Zoar's sea, Look ! how he makes the shadow of the hills Climb slowly up the vine-clad eastern heights, That shut in our rich valley : — 'Tis an hour For precious musings fit — for sending all The soul abroad in meditative gaze. In admiration of the wond'rous works Of God, which are above all measure great. Sought out, by those that love him, and enjoy'd , — Here now, by us, the more enjoy'd, since 'scap'd Th' infection, and the reckless revelry. That maddens Sodom's people, in whose souls. Wine, paired with Lust, now mounts, and dispos- sesses All thought, all modesty, all self-regard : What wonder, then, our ears have been alarm'd With tokens of th* impending wrath of God ^ Upon these wicked? — when we look at them. Thus wallowing in their sty of wickedness, Well augur we chastisement, as befits Man's huge corruption ; — but, when up from them We look, upon the beauty of this land. This world, and its blue roof, the orbed heaven, A DRAMATIC POEM. 257 With yonder sun-set glories, our stunn'd hearts Take confidence, as in the gracious God, Who hath established Earth, and given command That she should sit on her foundation firm, At rest in all her beauty. - Hath AN, There, O Father ! There is our trust, our propping-up against These rumours of near ruin and alarms : Nor heayen, nor earth, nor water, shew a sign Of breach, wreck, or disorder ; All is still ; Save man's loud passions, which, let forth too large, Come back, like unchain'd lions, on himself, And prey upon his vitals: — God's great world Hangs on its nothing safe ; 'tis man's small world, Convuls'd into disorder by himself. That doth present confusion. Lot. Yet the words Of Abram*s tongue are not to be mispriz'd, For ^bram's heart is perfect with his God. Hathan. Be wroth not, son of Haran, if I speak — Hath not this exile from Chaldean Ur, The son of Terah, to whom Canaan's land, Between the Hittite and the Maon -cliff's, Is portion'd, passions human like our own ? 258 THE DESTRUCTION OF S0D03I, Hath he not seen thee choose this goodly soiJ, Fed green by brook and never-lacking lake, As thine own rano^e ? — thus leavino: to himself His mountain-fields, sky-kissing, that from clouds At spring-time or in winter scudding by, Steal their small stint of rains, that oft-times balk His herds of their expected pasture-meat ? May not this disappointed Abram grudge To thee posfeession of the Jordan-plain ? Heav'n-favour'd though he be, may envy not Have graz'd his heart, engendering the wish That thou shouldst leave our ever-water'd land, Too good — save for himself ? Lot. Be hush'd that voice, O husband of my daughter ! that detracts From Terali's son, mine honour'd uncle. But— Lo ! lift thine eyes — behold these strangers twain, Both travelling in the greatness of their strength, Adown th' Ellassar road — this way they come ; — Their garb, their mien, their majesty of march, Bespeak of the celestial ! — sure, not thus The kings of Shinar or of Elam walk — So noble in their gesture — in their step So more than kingly — in their stately brows A DRAMATIC POEM. 25.9 Tiara*d so with glorj ! — Let us rise, O son 1 to greet the strangers — {^LoT and Ms son-in-lavj^ leamng their place^ salute the approaching Angels. J Lot. C (continuing) Hail, glorious children of the road ! 1st. Angel. All hail, And peace and joy upon you from the Lord, Ye, children of the city ! Lot. We receive Your salutations, joyous ; yet, before The majesty of your divine aspect. Your servants, over-dazzled and abash'd. Bow down, as if unworthy. (They hoio theinselces to the grjoimd.) 2d. Angel. Fear thou not, Son of the eastern people ! Be not sham'd To commune with the stranger ! — we are come From Sinai-mount, on whose twin- tops this morn We sat, to view the cities of the earth. Babel, and Rehoboth, and Niniveh, And Eezen, and Mizraim's crowded marts, Zoar, and Memphis, and Nile-nourish'd No, And Salem, built by Jebus on his hill, And slime-enriched Sodom in her vale; 260 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, We saw them, and their people, passing through Their gates and streets, on business, or on sport. Thousands of thousands, with their thousand aims, Hurrying, like troubled waters, to and fro ; We listened with our ears, to hear their hum ; Whether th' Almighty, and his fearful name, And worship, were regarded in the midst Of the great concourse, and tumultuous heave Of their engrossed, gain-grasping, multitudes : — We listened ; — ^and from some we heard a loud. From others, a suppressed and feeble cry ; — But, from this city, on the slime-rich plain, The cry ascended loudest ; and we come To prove the people both with eye and ear, If they be such as is their bruit. Lot. O ye Princes of God, (for by what lower name May I address the glory that flames forth All round you ?) — in mine own, and household's name, I bid you welcome to our city-gate. And to my house, as sojourners and guests ; For — in this boisterous and unholy city. Whose bruit, though evil, by its evil acts, Surpassing rumour, is outdone, — I ween, A DRAMATIC POEM. 261 August and lordly though your persons be, Yet, yet, as strangers, from aggressive hands Ye shall require protection, 1st Angel. Babel's sons That worship Baal, and the Ethiops That bow them. down to No's goat-headed stones, Respect the stranger, as he passeth through Their cities. Lot. Nor in Babel, nor in No, Stand Peer's or Asheerah's fanes ; nor are Their holidays by kings and people kept With hideous celebration : — wherefore, now, My lords, if so ye please, turn in, I pray. Into your servant's house, and tarry there All night, and wash your feet, and ye shall rise Up early, and go on your ways. 1st Angel. Nay, nay — All night we will continue in the street. Behold ! the sky is radiant ; and the moon Already, o'er yon eastern hill, hangs out Her lamp, to light us all the long night through, As, underneath some branchy olive's shade, Hous'd coolly, we shall slumber till the dawn. Lot. My lords, on Sephar's mountain, and the wastes 262 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Of Dedan, ye may safely bed beneath Heaven's canopy ; the lions of the wild Will there respect you ; but, in Sodom's streets, Prowl other ravagers ; and marble walls, And doors, brass-barr'd, are needful to secure Sweet slumber to your eyelids. 2d Angel. Forasmuch As thou, best knowing, dost suspect thy folk. Haply of rude, inhospitable, deed, Tow'rd us wayfarers, we resign ourselves To your protection :-— Lead us then along Son of the eastern people ! Lot. Then, my lords ! Proceed with me ;— my dwelling stands aloof. Towards the western city- wall, embower'd Amid green tufts of foliage ; yet we, needs. To reach it, must pass thorough the main street, Now thickly set with tables, and afloat With wine and luxury. Angels. We attend thy side ; — Now— onward let us walk. \They pass on^ and enter the gate. A DRAMATIC POEM. 263 SCENE III. Cell in the Temple of Peor, King, Priest (who enters on the sudden^ and as agitated with tcine and passion^ King. So ! So ! — an incident hath happ'd to mar The glad outgoings of the afternoon :— - Spok'st thou of the Chaldean ? Priest. Him, my lord — King. The wandering man, who, from Euphrates' shore. Of late arrived ? — to whom we have assigned Our citj-common, as a fattening walk, For his shrunk sheep and goats ? Priest. Even of him — King. The man, whom we have permitted to steal in To this our city, with his household stuff, And here to house him in a lonely nook, — A slanderer, and a traitor to the folk, And gods, that cherish him ? Priest. 'Tis that fellow ! To him, and to his lying lips, we trace 264 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, These city-troubling rumours, these dark threats, Of death, and doom impendent ! — Yesterday, Ev'n at the gate, the man was overheard In damning converse ; and, this day, he stood Aloof, in scorn from these our jollities ; Nor mingled with your people ; but, colleagu'd With aliens, haters of our gods, pass'd up Through the long street that held the worshippers, Scorning to touch our garments — he, and his Conspiring strangers, in their foreign robes, Tossing their haughty heads in contumely, And uttering scandalous words, condemnatory Of these our celebrations : — I am come Straight from the place, where I, with rage, beheld, The doings of these scoffers. King. Search^them out — Dishouse — extirpate them — send forth thy bands Of chambering priests and temple-underlings, And, ere the midnight pass, assail and storm Their mansion, as it merits : — Now, of this No more ; — let us betake ourselves again To solace, which this jarring circumstance Too long hath interrupted. — To the tables ! A DRAMATIC POEM. '^^^^ SCENE lY. An eminence near Mamre^ on the east of the Dead Sea, EliezeRj Shepherds, Shepherdesses. Eliezer. a little onward, gentle friends ! 1st Shepherd. The spot Attained is pleasant, and commands survey Of til' eastern plain stretch' d under. Eliezer. But a few Steps farther to the sycamore — 2d Sheph. That stands Fronting the moon, and, in her leaves and flowers, Seems drinking in the moonshine ? Eliezer. There, O friends — There halt, and, underneath the wild- fig's shade. Let us, to sound of timbrel and of harp, After our day-work done, delight our hearts, In the sweet evening's cool, with even-song. And dance, and pastime, fitting to the sons And daughters of our master's house : — Begin, 266 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Ye (laughters, that, with tab ret each adorn 'd, Go in the dances forth, of them that join The merry-make ; — arrange the artful ring. And foot the mazy round, that ye were wont Upon ill Assyrian meadows, to the chime Of Jubal's new-invented harp. CThe Shepherdesses range themselves into ttco Choirs^ and dance to the sound of their tim- brels.) Eliezer. Now change The guise, and, with your roundelay of praise, Alternating in mutual choirs, exalt Our hearts to thoughtful joy. (The Shepherdesses sing,) First Choir of Shepherdesses. 1. Awake, my timbrel I make thy sound Spread wide through Abram's tents around ; Awake, my heart ! be tun'd, my voice ! Spread wide through Abram's tents thy joys ; Such joys as spring from God above ; His adoration, and his love. a dramatic poem. 267 Second Choir. 2. Once under Charran's pine-tree shades, I dane'd with Aram's black>ej'd maids ; And sung, to Jubal's trembling strings, Such songs as Chaldee shepherd sings ; But now, I, with my tuneful band, Sing a new song, in Canaan's land. First Choir. 3. The Chaldee shepherd, when on high He sees the sun traverse the skj, Or moon, along the bridge of night, Walk in her silver sandals bright — Their beauty doth his heart betray ; 'Tis secretly entic'd avs^ay. Second Choir. 4. But I behold, upon their frame. His spirit, that hath garnished them ; See in them, ravishing displayed. The hand of Abram's God, that made ; 268 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, For sun, and moon, and stars, though bright, Are but the shadow of his light. First Choir. 5. His chariot he doth make the clouds. Wherein he bindeth up the floods ; The lightnings, that precede his path, He makes his ministers of wrath ; The winds, that vibrate tree and tower. He makes the angels of his power. Second Choir. 6. He chideth, and, at his rebuke. The pillars of the earth are shook ; He smileth, and the skies, all-bright, From pole to pole are sown with light ; The God of Abram is my fear ; Who would not love him and revere ? Eliezer. The peace of heav'n dwell richly in your heart, Sweet maids, in recompense of this your song ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 209 And now, ye shepherd-swains, fulifil your part, And follow, with a sequel suitable Of dance, and song, the damsels' roundelay. (The Shepherds^ after performing a rustic dance^ sing in divisions alternately.) First Choir of Shepherds. 1. Where Chabor's waters, soft and slow, Near Shinar's mount, begin to flow, The son of Terah, as he fed His flocks upon the river-mead, Heard, from a golden cloud, on high, A voice resounding through the sky. Second Choir. 2. Arise, the God of glory spoke, Nor longer feed near Shinar's rock ; Forsake thy father's house, and go Unto a land that I will show ; There I will bless thee, and thy name Make great, and glorify with fame. 270 the destrijctiox of sodom, First Choir. 3. The son of Terah, at command Of God, went out from Charran's land ; He went with all his shepherd- store ; He clomb Euphrates' sedgy shore ; He pass'd with all his long array. Through Tadmor's waste and weary way. Second Choir. 4. The son of Haran, by his side, Attendant, did on camel ride ; Their journeyings, their joys, and cares. Were common ; one same God was theirs ; That God, who gave them the command, — He brought them to this promised land. First Choir. 5. Their flocks, and herds, and tents spread round, And covered half of Canaan's ground ; One narrow land could scarce contain Th' expanded substance of the twain ; A DRAMATIC POEM. 271 They part ; and Terah's son his tent Hath pitch'd on Carmers green ascent. Second Choir. 6. His kinsman, from Mount Carmel's top, Look'd east to Bela's sunny slope ; He saw the Plain ; her brooks, her bow'rs, Her greensward flats, that ask no show'rs ! He chose them for his portion fair ; — He sojourns, and embowers him there. Eliezer. Tis well, O friends ! — Now, for our eventide feast. Of shepherd- viands, fruit and bread, and wine, Beneath the sycamore ; — The turf will serve For our soft seat ; the heav'n-hung moon for lamp ; The thick tree-shade for canopy ; — Our talk Will be of God's kind leadings ; — of the son Of Terali, here within his mountain -home Surrounded by the friendly Canaanite ; And Haran's son, that bides by Sodom's wall, Near neighbour to th' ungodly Amorite. Sit — sit we down in the cool shade. — ^72 THE DESTRUCTION OF SCDOM, ACT III. SCENE I. Apartment in Lofs house. Angels, Lot. C^o them the Wife and Daughters o/LoT.) [The evening-meal, called a feast in Genesis xix. 3, may be supposed to be ended, at which the wife and daughters of Lot, according to ancient Hebrew custom, officiated as waiting-women. These have now retired, and leave the others at table, enjoying moderate wine and conversation.] Lot. Illustrious strangers! now that cheerful food, So needful to recruit the body's waste, Hath stay'd our hearts, and to the mind allowed, (That lower function now discharged) free time And scope for social converse, bear with me, When I congratulate my lowly roof, My family, myself, on this most blest Enjoyment of the company of those. Whose looks bewray not Earth, who, in the skirts Ev'n of their garments, carry a divine Fragrance that whispereth Heaven. 1st Angel. Not to us. A DRAMATIC POEM. 273 Sons of the same sole Parent, and, no less Than man, subordinate to Heav'n, extend Bland words, most like to worship ; — we are here, Thy fellow-servants, and walk to and fro O'er earth, on errands from the mighty One, The master of his starry-chamber'd house. The universe. Lot. I see and recognise Your dignity of office, as the bright Ambassadors of God, that here below. Seen or unseen, range vigilant, and have Charge of one chamber of th' Almighty's palace, This earth, our dwelling-house, — to aid the good, T' upbuild the cities of the righteous, To wipe the widow's and the orphan's tears, To lift up him that is oppress' d, and fill The hearts of wronged innocents with joy ; But, as chastisers also, arm'd with power To scourge the wicked, and shake down to dust The tow'rs of the ungodly. — Ye have seen Our Sodom ? 1st Angel. We have walk'd through Babylon, The mighty Hunter's city, bulwark'd strong With brass and brick ; her walls we have gone round. And counted all her tow'rs and palaces ; — 274 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Through Ashur's city we have journeyed too, From morn to eve, and seen her valiant men In scarlet, and her chariots in her streets Jostling, and all her gallants raging round : — These we have passed, and noted down their crimes, Corruptions, and impure idolatries. In our great book, the Register of sins ; But this, your smaller people, in their gross And multiply'd pollutions, doth o'erpass Babel's and Huzzab's swarms. Lot. Sodom's fields Are rich, as is the garden of the Lord, And over- feed her slothful citizens To luxury and lewdness. 2d Angel. Egypt's land Is rich, and Ashur's land, and Nimrod's land, Are rich — what pity that the gifts of God, Indulg'd to mortals, as the means whereby To virtue they may mount, and happiness. And thus enjoy th' Almighty in his love And grace, should be by man himself debas'd To be the instruments of vice, and sin, And misery ? Behold the great All- wise Hath planted pleasure in the frame of man, And made it the foundation of his own A DRAMATIC POEM. 27 5 Particular preservation, and the life, From sire to son, transmitted endless down : Thus, in his boundless wisdom ; and, as man Doth husband well or ill these appetites, So is his weal or woe ; too oft his woe, From his unwise conducting. Nor hath God, According to these tastes of man, refus'd Means, fair and blameless, them to gratify. For, to preserve his mortal life, how hath He stock'd this earth with riches ? how with flocks, Hath clothed the pastures ? how hath covered o'er With corn the valleys ? how the mountain's sides Hath clad with climbing vines ? Land, sea, and sky, Swarm with vast wealth, cattle, and fish, and fowl. That court the human taste t' exhaust their rich O'er-swelling treasures ; and, in moderate use. All these are bless'd. Thus, thus hath God, as with A silver cord, secured man's life, and linked His being to his pleasures. Nor is less Secur d that other general life, that runs Down the long line of being, and preserv^es Continuous man for ages : — For the taste, Conducive to this mighty end, in which The population and the power of worlds Are all involv'd, hath he not minister'd 776 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Beauty, the sovereign and resistless charm, And gathered every grace and ornament, Scatter d apart through his gay universe, And, as in one bright type, concentrated Them all in woman's form ? What beauty glows In sun, moon, stars above, what shines below In sea, earth, mountain, fountain, hill or dale, Hath lie not stamped it on the face of her Whom he has form'd his help-meet, making thus Man's noblest admiration and his love Of beautiful, the golden hoop that binds Connubial fellowship, and household-bliss. With perpetuity of race ? Most pure These joys ; most chaste, and sacred ; not reducing Th' aspirin o^ and ethereal spirit back To sensual gro veilings, but exalting it, And training it, as if by steps, to mount The scale of godly love, whose base is set On earth, whose top ascends out near the rills Of life, beside the throne of God ; — by this The good man climbs, until he set his foot Upon th* empyreal pavement, there t' admire. With us Heaven's hosts, his fellow- worshippers, Godhead itself the source of Love and Beauty. Lot. O that this wisdom priz'd and practised were ! A DRAMATIC POEM, 277 2d Angel. These, then, are here below man's truest goods, And graces the most godlike, love of God, Of wisdom, and of beauty ; and, with these, The handmaid of all virtue, temperance, T' adjust enjoyment to the proper pitch. That wisdom warrants. These do comprehend His fulness of felicity on earth : Yet, yet, alas ! how seldom have we seen, In our angelic progresses throughout The cities of this world, that man perceives His happiness, or practises aright Its methods, taught by Wisdom ; rather, led By Folly, he misuses and perverts. Towards his own unhappiness and death, What God hath lent, in his beneficence, To benefit and bless him ; — witness this Your city, Sodom ! {Here are heard shouts from without^ as of bacchanalian revellers,) 1st Angel. Ha ! the shouts of men. Outraging night, and her sweet light the moon, With their obtrusive clamour ! 2d Angel. In the street Some mischief is a-gathering. Lot. Their bold shouts, 278 THE DESTRUCTION OP SODOM, Methinks, are heard too near — {He rises to look forth from the casement ; — his wife and daughters rush into the apart- ment with symptoms of terror and alarm.) Melah. O, my lords ! The house all round us is attacked ! Lot. The men Of Peor? Melah, Peer's men are round about us. With torches, and with firebrands in their hands. Directed tow'rds our casements ; — and they cry, Destruction^ Death to the false foreigner^ That hath come in to judge us ! Angels {to Lot), Sufier us To chide away these clamourers. Lot. Not so — Mine honour'd guests ! The master of the house Shall, as becomes, out-face them. {He goes from the apartment into the exte- rior passage leading towards the door — the tumult increases^ and there are heard from without the voices of) Rioters. Fire ! Fire ! Out with the sojourner ! A DRAMATIC POEM. 279 Melah and DArGHTERs. Save us, my lords ! Oh, save us ! 1st Angel. Fear ye nought, O gentle dames ! God will preserva the righteous. (Again are heard the tumultuous voices of the) Rioters. Out with the men ! Drag, drag them out ! Fire ! Fire ! — Burn down the gate — Tear up the roof ! Down with the sojourner ! Out with him and his men ! f Lot overpowered li/ Ms alarm^ comes hack into the apartment.) Lot. They force the door, — They overleap the threshold — O my daughters I 1st Angel. Hold, hold — Nor let Disquiet seize you — 'Tis now time — High time for God's omnipotence to work ! Be thou at ease, dame, with these thy daughters ; Fear not, for we are with you ; — thou, our host, Stand back, secure ; and leave thou unto us Protection of thy family, the good Against this combination of the bad ; — One short, short word — one look of levelled wrath. Will scatter and confound this foul night-crew 280 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Intent on wickedness ! (The angels go into the passage leading towards the door^ leaving Lot and daughters^ agitated loith terror in the apartment, J 1st Angel. C heard from the passage,) Retire, ye wicked ! Be blasted with confusion from our God ! 2d Angel. Hence, ungodly ! Hence ! — Be with blindness smitten by our God I SCENE II. Palace of the King of Sodom, King, Priest of Peor. King. Again, alarm ? Nor can the still midnight, That now draws close her curtain round the world. Screen us from heart- vexations ? Priest. All the city My lord, O king, is raging ! King. Let it rage ; — Rage is its element when Peor lords ; What strange in this? A DRAMATIC POEM. 281 Priest. Peor hath lost his power ; And his acknowledged servants, that went hence, Reeling on riotous adventure forth, Now wander like to blind men in the streets, A-groping for the wall, abandoned, foil'd. Cowering with vile dejection and despair. All-impotent. King. Hath riot and large wine So overlay 'd them, that the god himself Of riot hath forsworn them, and struck dead Their bodies and their souls with impotence ? — — The morning will re-man them ! Priest. my lord ! Nor wine, nor he, our worshipped god, have struck This stroke upon our city ; but, in spite And in defiance of him and his power. Some adverse demon hath inflicted it. Our band of men, — that from the Idol-house Went arm*d with torches, brands, and emblems, high Toss'd up in pride towards tV out-dazzled moon, To punish in his house the sojourner, That did blaspheme our idols, with his pair Of golden-girdled, long-rob' d, aliens proud. His guests — no sooner came up to the gate. Demanding retribution, challenging 282 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Forth from their cells these mockers of our gods, When, from th' up-flying door came fearless forth That gold-girt pair, and on the threshold stood, With faces splendid as the sun, their feet As pillars of clear fire ; — they stood, and cry'd. As when a lion roareth, Hence^ ungodly ! Hence ! — Be with blindness smitten hy our God I As in a moment lightning from on high Blasts forest-trees from top to root, so came That charm, that curse, upon our armed men ; And down their arms and emblems fell ; their eyes In darkness rolFd about ; up to the sky Their stounded heads they rais'd, and try'd to find The bright moon in her place, but found her not : Like men in bottom of black pit profound They walked, each against each with jostling shock. Jarring in their confusion, nor could reach The house or door whence came the blinding blast That withered them ; but round the walls they went At fault, in dizzy circles endlessly, Or through the streets, in darkling mazes, they Roam VI errabund, of their own homes in search, Or shrieking, in their sightlessness, for guides. Homeward to guide their stumbling steps. — This tale Of fearful news mine ears have just obtain'd A DRAMATIC POEM. 283 From our own temple- warder, who, himself Eye-witness, bears upon his blinded eyes Unwilling witness of its truth, and now Lies in his crypt a-shivering. King. Is it thus, The Chaldee shepherd, with his brace of guests. Hath routed thy Baal-peor, with his host Of emblem-bearers ? Priest. Tis from this defeat That Peer's people, though near midnight hour, Tumultuates in madness, young and old, Crying for vengeance ; and, with the fierce wrath, Passions, and outcries stirr d by this defeat. Other alarms are mix'd, sown by the friends Of these intruders, how that Death and Doom Hang o'er this city, and her dreadful day. Decreed by Fate, approaches. King. Priest of Peor ! Let your own god and goddess look to this. If vain night-rumours fray them : — Gather now Your temple-men, and altar-men, and all Your pomps of priestlings and hierophants, And cry aloud, Baal ! save our city j Try every mean to deprecate and win him ; Gash every limb with lancets and with knives, 284 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. Ev*ii till your blood on your own altars gush, Then cry again, Baal I save our city ; Forsooth, should he be sleeping, when his folk In terror sleep not, he must be awak'd To save them : — Go — nor trouble me henceforth With such fantastic terrors. — Rather heed Thy priest's-afiairs, and con thy matin-song. To usher in^ with preparation due, To-morrow's festival. ACT lY. SCENE I. Chamber in Lot's house. Angels, Lot. 1st Angel. These rioters are routed hence ; thy doors Again are safe, and need no guard : — O son Of Haran ! Now prepare thy soul to hear Our embassy's chief purpose. Lot. Let my lords Reveal their mind ; they, who have savM my house A DRAMATIC POEM. 285 Thus by their word of power, miraculously, Will speak to my salvation. 1st Angel. Hast thou here In this doomed city any friends besides ? Lot. My sons-in-law, the children of the land, Who, since I sojourned with the foreigner. Marry VI my daughters. 1st Angel. Bring them straightway out — These sons-in-law — these daughters, and whatever Thou hast within the city — bring them forth, Out of this place, because the Lord hath sent Us to destroy it, since this city's cry Before th' Almighty's face is waxen great ; — Therefore arise, go forth, and speak to these Thy sons-in-law, and bid them quit a place' O'er which th' appointed rod of wrath now hangs Most imminent. Lot. Thou bidst, my lord ! and I Thy servant hasten to obey — to seek. And save my friends. — \^£Jmt. 286 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, SCENE II. House of Hathan. Lot, Hathan, Aha rah. Lot. Daughter, and son-in-law, arise ! Aha rah. O father ! What means this haste ? thine anxious look ? this step So quick, abrupt, and sudden ? Lot. Up, my children ! Gather your household, and go hence ! — the time Now urgeth, and the mandate from on high Commands you to depart, and leave this place To perish, with its people ! Hathan. Ha ! what mandate. From heav'n or earth, touching a point so main, Approves itself authentic ? Is thy heart Yet quaking with the herdman's tale, sent down From Mamre ? — Or have Sinai's visitants, Thine evening guests, O father ! with their talk So witch*d thee into terror, that anon Thou snatchest up thy staff, and wouldst escape A danger bred of visions and feast-fumes. A DRA^JATIC POEM. 287 And hearsays slight as the unthinking breath That utter'd them ? Lot. Meet not, O son-in-law ! My warning voice with mockings \^ — I am come. Not to discourse, or argue, or receive Repulse, but warranted by Heav'n to bid Thee and my daughter now arise, and flee This place. Aharah. O father 1 this thy summons comes, (Haply, though bas'd on truth,) yet at an hour Unmeet for fleet departure : — Can we leave Our home, our gathered household-wealth, exposed A prey, disown'd, to spoilers ? — Should thy fears Be falsify 'd by th' issue, as we deem, What railing, then, what mock'ry from our friends Shall vex us, yielding to them ? — Should they prove True, as thyself believest, can we leave Our friends unwarn'd, unpity'd, unsaluted, To meet that doom, from which, convinced ourselves, Like cowards we shall sneak, without attempt Or wish to rescue, by convincing them Of what concerns their beings ? Lot. These, thy friends, * So Genesis xix. 14. '* But Lot seemed as one that mocked unto his sons-in-law." T 288 THE DESTRUCTION OF SOOOilI, Contemn all warning, and go revelling on At midnight, as by daylight, without pause In their life -long career of wickedness, Deriding Heav'n and Providence, forlorn Of prudence as of virtue : — As I past Through their mad city hither, (unobserved, Else violently treated), every street Sent up its cry ; and what display of power Had been by heav'n flash'd on them for their sins' Correction, to their senses' injury. Now madden them to desp'rate violence, And impotence of fury ; — They do rage Beyond reproofs or warning's utmost power. Ungovernable, irrepressible. Save by another blasting stroke from heaven ; And that impends — th' uplifted whip of wrath Is brandish'd for the blow — therefore, arise — Flee, flee, my daughter ! Hath AN. Ere thy daughter flee, O father ! thoti must, father-like, induce Thy son to follow in the flight :— That flight Requires deliberation, and must needs Be sanctioned by some nobler author, less To be disputed, or be warr*d against : — What warrants this thy panic ? — Lo ! our men, A DRAMATIC POEM, 280 The citizens of Sodom, dread not ought ; But, fearless in their life's stability, Send up, as from, an amphitheatre Of mirth, their midnight shoutings to the moon. As if to make her jocund disk ring back Their joy I — Doth Heav'n shew symptom, overhead, Of ruinously falling ? doth the Earth Tremble upon her pillars ? doth our Sea, Fed by the Jordan, leap into the land. As discontented with her shores ? — Sea sleeps — Heav'n stands — land rests — nought shows disquie- tude, Save thine own troubled fancy. Lot. O, my son ! O thou my daughter ! if thou trust not me, Trust him, the Mighty, who hath said the word Of terrible import : — Be these my fears, My soul's anxieties, and deep alarms, (Too visible in my so-troubled looks. My haste, and hurry'd step), be these the proofs Of my paternal care ; — ^be these the test Of my sincerity and love : — If these Convince not, by what stronger influence. May ye be mov'd ? (^Peal of thunder heard.) Hark ! Hark 1 the very voice 290 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Of Heav'n bespeaketli Judgment — Oh ! arise, Flee, flee, my children ! Hathan {looking from the casement,^ Why — all heav'n is clear, And shews no clouds ; — 'tis but the casual noise Of some false, falling, star, some meteor-stuff Exploding o'er the desert ; — we are proof To such sky-crackles. Lot. If this chiding voice, If these my earnest cries, are all in vain, — Oh, how may I adjure you more ? — By Him Who caird us from Chaldea — Hathan. Abram's God Should speak, as then, distinctly from his cloud, Plain to be understood. Lot. Thou mockest me, My son-in-law ! — Alas, it is against Thyself, thine own dear life, thou mockest me — — O daughter, thou dost know thy father's love, — Come with me, O my daughter ! {He grasps his daughter's hand to lead her off,) Hathan {ungrasping the father* s hand from that of his daughter.) From the husband Th' espoused wife may not well part — A DRAMATIC POEM. 291 Ah ARAB. My father! Urge me not so — when thus my husband wills To dare the danger, let me — Lot. O my God ! Ha^e pity. Lord, upon these abject ones Uuto themselves so pitiless — My children, The time of grace is spent — I go in sorrow — Farewell ! May God in his red hour of wrath, Deal mercy to your souls ! — [/fe rushetk out. Hatha N. *Tis an advice administered, No doubt, in kindness, by a mind, most full Of love, but over-fraught with fantasies, Conceiv'd of dreams, and talk angelical ; — No — we must not give way — that were indeed To shew us brainstruck also — no, we will Abide, unscar'd, at home, and here defy — Here, on our hearths — this gloomy prophecy, That hath unfix'd his reason. 2.92 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM„ SCENE III. House of AcJizan^ Lot's s econd son-in-latc. Lot, Achzan (His wife the second daughter of Lot ■ — mzcta.) LoT» Up, up, m J son and daughter ! — leave your house, And flee I AcHZAN. Why — father, what so exigent Hath happ'd, that, at this midnight hour, so rash Thou rousest us with terrors ? Lot. Flee, my children ! Nor tarry thus to question, and receive The reasons for thus rousing : — 'Tis no time Ev'n for relation of the dreadful woe That overhangs this place — the time, consumed In telling it, would frustrate what should be The very end and purpose of the tale. The saving of your lives — your lives ! Flee, flee ! Abandon house for life ! AcHZAN. For life ? — so sharp ! And so abrupt ! (To himself) The message savours, sure. A DRAMATIC POEM. 293 Of madness ! Yet his troubled countenance Bespeaks conviction and anxietj Of love in our behalf. Lot. Yex not your souls With vain enquiries — doubt not — linger not^ — — Oh ! by a father's cares, a father's love, A father's hopes, I do beseech thee — thus — (^He kneels to his son and daughter in the attitude of earnest supplication,^ Escape the wrath just coming — Flee, flee, flee ! Moments are pregnant — flee ! No more — I leav€ you with a father's prayers i Flee i \JE[e rushes out. AcHZAis. Fled, fled himself! as if our earth- quak'd roof Already were a-toppling o'er our heads ! — 'Tis strange — why 'tis a very madness sure — Albeit there doth shine an earnestness Of purport, in both word and look, that proves Somewhat well-founded — cause, obscure but true — Mix'd up with his alarm : — Haply, he has Too fev'rishly caught up the city-bruit Of some disaster nearing. — Ne'ertheless, We will not, for a fearful face and word. 294 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Flee hearth, home, friends, and country. Here we bide Unterrify'd — nor flee. SCENE lY. The House of Lot. Lot, Steward or Chief Shepherd, Shepherds, Chief Shepherd. My lord, at this untimely hour, ere yet Our shepherd watchman, on his tall field-tower Hath with his cornet's sound proclaimed the night's Third watch commenced, we have, at thy command, Left on the fields our flocks ; and now await. Here on thy house^s threshold, what may be The bidding of our master. Lot. Ye arrive, O friends, not yet untimely, nor too late. To learn and 'scape the danger heav'n-foretold., That threats th' unholy valley. Chief Shep. Does my lord Dread danger from the children of the land^ A DRAMATIC POEM. 295 Now, for th' arch-feast of their Pentapolis, Beneath the dimness of the shame-fac'd night. Assembling all in Sodom ? Lot. Their arch-feast I know, designed to-day, with all its swarm Of revellers from the sister-cities five ; — — Passed ye that night-swarm, unannoy'd ? Chief Shep. As from Our cots and sheep walks tow'rd the city-gates, We came beneath a stainless sky, whose light O'er-mantled this rich valley, every road That led to every several gate, rang loud With tramp of rushing people, women, men, And boys, on camels some, and some a-foot. Amid the lustre of the chaste moonshine, Bound for the celebration ; all the folk Of loose Gomorrha, shouting round the cart Whereon their Chemosh they dragged on with ropes ; And Admah's and Zeboim's bevies bold Of females, carrying in their tabernacle Their Succoth-benoth, emblem of the rites They mean to practise : — Mingled with that rout. Unchaste, and muttering infamous intents. We entered Sodom's gates, and found her streets With songs and citherns ringing, pipe and drum. 296 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, A symphony sonorous, welcoming The morn which brings that last and lewdest feast Which crowns their Three-days' luxury : — througli these, And through a thousand threats and outrages, And imprecations impious, and lewd, deeds More foul than foulest night- Lot. Wine, lust, and night, Gender enormous wickedness — Chief Shep. Through these, Howbeit, we did pass, unharm'd, untouched, (Some unseen angel sure did cover us) To thy house hither. Lot. May the same good guide Around you cast his shield, as hence, again. Through the town-tumult, ye return to seek Your pasture- walks and sheepcots; — thence with- draw In haste my herds and flocks ; ere break of morn, Let them be seen ascending up the slopes Of Bela, and the southern roads that lead To the Mount Seir ; drive them straightway on : Nor look behind, nor let your eyes hath ruth On garment, tent, or tent-stufF, left behind : — 'Tis God that hastens you ; — Away, fulfil A DRAMATIC POEMr 291 His mandate — save your lives — nor lose the time Youchsaf'd for your salvation. Chief Shep. As my lord Commands, we do ; — The hand of the Most High, Possessor of the Heav'n and Earth, that late Preserved thee, when the eastern kings o'erswept The Siddim-vale with ravening and death, Once more save thee and thine ! Lot. Flee hence — we meet Again by mid-day on the mountains. Flee ! ACT Y. SCENE I. Southern Gate of Sodom. Angels, Lot, Melah, Daughters. 1st Angel. Here breathe ye, O my friends ! Now are we out of reach of Poor's crew — In safety have we pass'd the throngs and threats Of Sodom's loud night- wandering wassailers, Inflam'd with vengeance, wine, and wrath against The virtue that rebukes them. 298 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Lot. Here, my lords ! Here, let me bow to you in gratitude. Confessing you the guardians, that have led (As parents their weak children by the hand) Your servants safe, through darkness and dismay, Out of the den of danger : — Merciful To us hath been our God ! 1st Angel. As yet the dawn Sleeps underneath the lip of heav'n ; — But see, The Pleiades are up, and dancing come Before the chariot of nigh-peering day ; — The light is weak, yet will suffice ; — Go on — God shall enlighten you and give you strength, As up into the southern mount ye flee From these the fire-doom'd gates of Lust and Sin ;- Escape then, son of Haran, for thy life ; Look not behind thee, neither do thou stay In all the Plain ; up to the mountains steep 'Scape, lest thou be consum'd ! Lot. O my lord ! not so, I pray — Behold, thy servant now hath found Grace in thy sight, and thou hast magnify'd Thy mercy, which thou hast unto me showed, In saving this my life : — I cannot 'scape U p to the mountain, lest some evil thing A DRAMATIC POEM. 299 Befal me fleeing thither, and I die : Lo ! now this city ('tis a little one) Is near to flee to ; let me thither 'scape ; — Is it not, Lord, a little one ? Oh let This place receive me, and my soul shall live. 1st Angel, See now ! — concerning this thing, too, have I Thy face accepted, that this city Bela, (This little city for the which thy tongue •Hath pleaded) I will not overthrow. Lot. My lord 1st Angel (Interrupting him,) Enough is spoken — haste thou — 'scape thou thither — For until thou and thine be thither come, We cannot ought perform ; — the stroke of heaven Must be till then postponed — speed, speed ! for God's Set time draws nigh ! (Here the Angels mount upward and gradually disappear,) Lot. Look ! look ! our guardian-pair Have wav'd their wings — and now, lo ! from the earth Are wafted — gone ! Melah. In triumph high ascended Unto their home the heavens ! 300 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Lot. Yea, into Th' ethereal chambers of the South, from thence To draw their wrathful weapons, treasured up Against the day of wrath ! — See how the blue Of sky, cleft by the messengers of God, Shews yet the fissure, through the which they shot, Lipp'd round and round with glory, like the wings They wav'd, when soaring through it ! Mel AH. O my lordj Astonishment and fear overcome my soul ! Here now we stand, abandoned and alone ; — How may we now, without our heav'nly guides, Avoid the overtaking danger ? Lot. God will still Impart his aids ; he hath commandment given, And his commands do not require a strength Above the human — Let me take thy hand Melah. My feet wax feeble, and my heart is faint — O let my lord and husband suffer me. Here by the gate, upon its welcome seat, To linger but a moment's space. Lot. The time Flies rapid — clamorous is the urgency — God's great command hath pass'd. — A DRAMATIC POEM. 301 Melah. Oh ! 'twill be But a brief pause ; tbe time, how strict soe'er Appointed, may afford brief resting space. Lot. The time Is rigid, and allows no respite — Life Is stak'd, and hangs in dire uncertainty, On a few well-us'd moments. Melah. Hear, my lord ! And entertain, a moment, in your heart. My supplication : — 'Tis our parting-haste And the confusion of the night have made My soul forgetful — In my chamber lies The Babylonian garment, twin'd with gold, Which, on the day thou wedd'st me, in the house Of my dear father in Chaldean Ur, I wore, and thence have priz'd as my most dear And valued ornament — It lies — forgot — In my soul's hurry overlooked — I heav'd The vesture from its wardrobe out, yet left My gold-wov'n gawd behind ; — Oh let my lord Permit me — ^but a momentary space — Brief respite will suffice — back on my steps To hasten, and redeem my father's gift, The pride of Babel's looms. Lot. Forward — on — 302 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, It is no time to dally idly thus With danger. Melah. Spare, my lord — o'erstrain not thus Th' angelical appointments ; — on the way Precede thou with my daughters — I, apace. My purpose done, will follow in thy train, Within the time prescribed. (She leaves the party ^ and re-enters the City gate,) Lot. Against this breach, Imperious woman 1 my foreboding heart Rebels ; yet th' urgent time forbids my tongue To loose itself to murmurs : — Let us go. My daughters ! — we have lingered here too long. SCENE II. Front of Abraham's Tent on the heights near Mamre. Abraham, Eliezer, Shepherds, &c. Abraham, (as proceeding from Ms tent.) Who calls me from my tent ? What hath befallen, That voices thus so loud, betokening A DRAMATIC POEM. 303 Some chance, or strange variety of hap, In house or field, demand me forth ? Eliezer. My lord, The heavens do terrify us — the just-risen And glorious sun, behold, is swallowed up — Look, look at yonder cloud ! 1st Shepherd. It cometh on — It swelleth up, my lord — Though small at first, A stripe of dusk, low on the ring of heaven, It hath spread up — and spreads — May Abram's God Defend us ! 2d Shepherd. Who may at its terror look, And tremble not ! Abraham. Be not dismay'd, O friends ! — Yet, yet indeed, 'tis terrible — ^methinks. The hand of God, in yonder thunder-cloud, Is forging, for his battle-bow of wrath. The arrows of his vengeance. Eliezer. From beyond The hills of Midian and the Red Sea's arm It comes, and in its frightful bosom bears Condons' d, Arabia's whole combustions, all The torrid fumes and steams upgather'd from Dedan, and Mesha, and that Hall of Death u 304 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Scorch'd Hazar-Maveth ; — See how o'er the hills Of Seir down it rolls its masses black Of vapour, like the ocean's raging waves Propeird o'er rocky ledges ; — how its sheets Of lightning, volley'd forth from end to end, Emblaze the long horizon, and enwrap, As with a mantle of red flapping flame. The mighty mountains ; — look how down it comes On Punon's pinnacle and Oboth's rock. Towards king Bera's realm; — its foremost fork Of cloud, like to a gloomy promontory, Hangs over Luhith, and the Zared -brook, Whose channel now receives the torrent-fall Of hail-globes ; — round it closes fast and far, Tow'rd Nimrim, and the heaps of Abarim Eastward ; and, settling o'er the Siddim-vale, Envelops it all in, as with a net Of many-twisted flre. Abraham. Behold, my friends, Th' Almighty's preparation ! — See his ire, And stand in awe, and sin not ! Eliezer. How the noise Of the aerial tumult rolleth on. Near and more near ! 1st Shepherd. Happy the man that dwells A DRAMATIC POEM. 305 In safeguard of the Lord of heaven and earth, The God that wields the thunder ! Abraham. In, my friends ! Seek your tents' shelter from the coming storm. SCENE III. Great hall of the Pantheon -temple in Sodom. The Kings of Sodom, of Gomorrha, and of the OTHER TOWNS OF THE PeNTAPOLIS, SEATED, WITH THEIR Nobles, at the table of their morning SACRIFICIAL-BANQUET, WITH WINE, ODOURS &C. King of Sodom. Your cups, my lords 1 in honour of the gods Conjoined, whose worship, and whose sacrifice, Here we are met to celebrate ; — Fill high ! To Ghemosh, old Gomorrha's god, and Her That tabernacles in the silver shrine At Admah and Zeboiim ! Other Kings and Nobles. Crown it high ! To Chemosh, and his sister silver-shrin'd. The Lady-god of Admah and Zeboiim ! 306 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Let the joy circulate from mouth to mouth, Till our flushed hearts rebound ! (The cloud of darkness comes over.) King of Sodom. Ha ! what is this ? — — It darkens — sure, the sun begins to flag And founder in his race I King of Gomorrha. Hath some huge bird, Ascending from the Indian ocean, come And o'er your city spread his murky wings. That thus the air is thicken'd ? King of Sodom. Brother-king ! Our Peor and Astarte held the sky. During their days of honour, fair and clear ; But this your Chemosh is a powerless god ; His golden lungs possess no breath of pith To blow aside these sky-polluting clouds, That so confound us. C Lightnings tcith thunder,) King of Admah. Ha ! these shotten fires Have an unusual brightness ; How they glance Adown the pillars, casing them all round As with red sheets of gilding ! King of Zeboiim. Hark ! the heavens Tumultuate round — one universal roll. Unbroken by a pause ! King of Sodom. Tush — tush — 'tis but A DRAMATIC POEM. o07 Some whirlwind from the south, sent up to greet us From Am'lek's v/andering children ! King of Admah. Fla^h on flash, They fly, and lap the cupola and walls With their long, lambent tongues ! King of Zeboiim, By heav'n, the house Is kindling ! '^I' 1st Messenger (Suddenly entering,) Fly, my lords ! The city-gates And city-walls are all on fire ! — They flame Like burning torches, and one fiery belt Walls in the city. 2d Messenger (Entering.) Up, up, my lords ! Escape — The temples of the city from the clouds Are smit with conflagration ! Every fane Is at its summit lightning-struck — the trees That gird Baal-peor's temple, like dry reeds, Crackle and burn from top to root— the roofs And pinnacles, beneath the which ye sit. Are flaming to the heavens ! 3d Messenger (Entering.) Terror, terror 1 Destruction stares us all around ! — the walls. Roofs, floors, of every house within the city, 308 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Engender flame, as if inborn — the streets Sprout fire beneath the feet of passengers ! King of Admah. By all the gods ! it groweth here, beneath My very feet ! King of Sodom. O heav'n ! see, see all round — Above — below — a canopy of burning ! A hedge of flaming-red destruction Impassable ! King of Gomorrha. O mercy, mercy, heaven 1 King of Admah. 'Tis death ! King of Sodom. 'Tis death — it draweth nigh — 'tis here — Kings, nobles, people all, one funeral-pile, One general holocaust of all the city 1 City and city's gods — King of Zeboiim. I burn ! I burn ! — King of Sodom. Flames wrap me all about — fir d — fir'd — enveloped As with a brimstone-garment — No mercy — no salvation — no escape Death !— dreadful '.—Death 1 A DRAMATIC POEM. 309 SCENE lY. Before the gate of Zoar (or Bela)^ situate on the slope south-east from Sodom^ and commanding u view of the Jordan plain. Lot, his {unmarried) Daughters. (To them the Shepherds of Lot.) Lot. Here stand, my daughters ! — here, through heav'nlj grace. And heav'nly aids, we are arriv'd — escaped The rain of fiery ruin now shot down Upon the sinful city ; — yet, alas ! One is a- wanting ;— Look ye down the road Which we have pass'd — see ye, afar, or near. Through the thick gloominess that broods around, Your mother coming ? 1st Daughter. I look far — and near — And round — with anxious, searching eye I look ; But, O my father ! I nowhere behold. Through the thick gloominess that broods around, My mother coming. Lot. I too strain mine eye, In weary search for her I left behind. But see her not a-coming. 310 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 2d Daughter. my mother 1 Why do thy feet thus tarry ? On thy way Hast thou not sped ? that thus our eyes in vain Seek thee on thy return ; thou gav'st to us Thy promise to delay not — Oh, too slow, That promise to make good ! Lot. Alas ! my heart Forebodes some misadventure : — she is not Upon the road — nor on the slope — mine eye Wanders defeated in its wish to find Her whom we miss, the straggler of our house ; Nought in the nearer space, o'er which our feet Have traveird, in th' o'er-hanging tempest's dusk I see — save — one dim half-discover'd form-^- (Methinks — our faithful shepherd, hither bound ! — ) Nought in the farther distance, saving fire. And surges of black-smoke and cloud ; — in heaven Fire toAvards earth descending — on the earth Fire towards heav'n ascending ; — all the place Where Sodom should have stood, the Jordan-plain, Where beauty dwelt, and verdure, one broad blaze, As of a forest, or a wilderness On fire : — Oh ! yonder, yonder, God is now Working his work, his dreadful work ! — But see — our trusty serA^ant — A DRAMATIC POEM. 311 Chief Shepherd. (Approaching.) Peace be with you And thine, my lord and master ! mid such war From heav'n against the wicked ! Lot. And with you Be peace, faithful servant ! — Thou art come Last from the plain of Jordan — Hast thou seen5 Footing the path, or resting in the field. The mother of my daughters ? Chief Shep. I have seen The mother of thy daughters ! Lot. Thy reply, So brief, and utter'd with that faltering lip, Conveys alarm, not comfort. Chief Shep. I beheld, As I passed by — She, she of whom thine eyes Are now in quest, for whom thy daughters dear, Heart-sick with weary expectation, Xow languish — Lot. Speak it, though unwilling, out — Break not thy tale with tremblings — Chief Shep. my lord. And master ! wherefore should thy servant's eyes Have seen — have seen the melancholy sight Which now my duteous lips must tell ? — A tale 312 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Of sorrow for my master's house ! — Xo more The wife thou lovest shall return — thine eyes, Overstrained with longing search, shall ne'er again Be greeted with her presence 1 1st Daughter. Woe the while ! My mother ! — Alas ! why didst thou separate from us ? Our's was the fault, that suflfer'd thee to go Back on thy steps — calamitously back Upon the danger we forsook ! Lot. thus To perish ! — 'twas a levity of wish, Thy husband, for thine own most dear behoof. Should have more sternly check'd and overrul'd ;— — To look behind ! to covet ! to go back To thine abandon'd vanities ! — thus, thus By thine own fond, deceitful, heart, betray'd Into destruction direly manifest ! Slight the pretext for parting, but, sad And heavy, as I boded, its result ! Yet, sad as be these tidings, let us know What thou hast seen — th' event, in all its points, BefalFn of mourn'd disaster. Chief Shep. As my lord Commanded us, his servants, ere the dawn, A iJllASlATir POIIM. SIS Uj) Id iii' apparnted moimtaiii-. tifisre ±d ]*b Saf^ i^oiL -:ii^ ri^a:^^ mil: siLDnlil soon :r-:L. 'HJisptti3raL. sre titt dawning briif:^. -z_«. .c. .: d and imj>eiiii d their sereral flocks, "^mcx UT Zht BteeiJ tiier do"^ vsre dririn^ : — I 33.flmaiiL d xLt last, i' upmumei and isad off Pafit nii: _ : - -r uiain. iierv^^efin _ liL" ::: : - ._ -_ -- - ..^ ; — ^.__ :_ ; : i,E - _ - T«d. and ^ruf otzviti^ tiieni ^EVerm i; '.Limiui^i, ai^ . - : ' ':-r>L -_ __::i flf lii£ ^ ;-"_ _ ~ ^T} it^H " tite fiiiniB-fiiaTing ^atfii, by lite iteaT^finlr flasii. Fiev up iL> itamfc; unfc mnmfint sej^'d 1' fingird Tnt citT Sodom -wjxk ant rin^ of ^am. ^ ^ ---^ J jont : iisr xem^iisfi, towsTE, and I3'«es, domf^-. v^i-nii Iter '^'^^alb' priJcmcBa, 814 THE DESTRUCTION Ot^ SODOM, Like firebrands stood a-blazing : — I did bear, As I pass'd by, tbe sound of dying men, Women, and children, irredeemably Shut up as in a furnace, shrieking loud In til* agony short, short, but terrible^ The dreadful minute that did separate Sweet Life from pang-rack'd Death; — their dying shriek, The howl of hopeless anguish, that bespoke One whole, whole city, fire-engulph'd at once, Yet ringeth hideous in my ears ! Lot. Alas ! Woe for the wicked city ! God hath made Her pile great for the fire ! Chief Shepherd. Amid these sounds And sights, too terrible and racking -sore To be endur d by mortal eye or ear, Safe and nnscath'd I travell'd on, (the God Whose voice is Thunder, and the heav'n's fleet fires, His ministers, protected me) : — I cross'd. Fast by the gate, the slime-enriched dale Where Birsha fell ; — her naphtha-gurgling wells, Enkindled by the raging elements, Like oil in burning lamps blaz'd high ; I pass'd The streamlet- water d gardens, where the men A DRAMATIC POEM. 315 Of Peor wont to sacrifice ; the groves Of fig aud olive-trees that lie beyond, Now singed and thunder-scatliM in all their tops ; And I was come into the Yale of Salt, The southmost limit of the Jordan-plain, When, underneath the clifi*, by the way-side, That stands, hew'd by the chisel into shape Of pillar'd beauty, I beheld, alas ! Thy consort, leaning (as methought), fatigu'd, And resting from her journey ; — I drew near — I spake — there came no answer back — she stood Speechless and lifeless on the spot — the fire Of God had stricken her ! 2d Daughter. Alas, my mother ! Lot. O heavy stroke from God ! Chief Shep. There, there, she stood — Thine eyes' desire, before me, woeful, stood ; Dead, in the attitude of life — her substance, Incorp'rate, by the subtile force of fire, Into the matter of the rocky salt, Whereon she leaned ! Lot. a monum.ent, alas ! Of heavenly judgment, chastisement from God, On such as, in defiance of command, Snar'd by this world's cupidities, return 316 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Back on its follies, and its dangers, loath To leave, still longing, lingering still, intent On sinful spoil, till the great spoiler Death Arrest them in their dallying. Chief Shep. My heart, O master, with its sorrow, swelFd ! — my eyes Shed tears — which yet are flowing ! I withdrew Sad from the afflicting sight, and drove my flocks Before me to the mountain. Lot. 'Tis a day, O friends, of sorrow and adversity, Even unto us, to whom our God hath given Escape from that Destruction, which hath slain Th' ungodly in the most high-soaring hour Of their impure festivities: — To us, The gladness, heav'n- vouchsafed, hath mingled been With sorrow, sprung of earth, and earthly thoughts Contemning heaven : — Let us consider, then, These doings of the Almighty, mark his hand Displayed in these afflictions, and this wrath Afiecting us, and others ; that t' obey And fear him we may learn, and, in that fear. Avoid th' abominations and loose rites. Among the heathen to their idols wrought : For unto us, and to our father's house, A DRAMATIC POEM. 317 These things are an instruction and reproof ; And yon lewd cities, in their shame overthrown, Are to the world for an example set, Suffering this vengeance of deserved fire. Ode (By the daughters o/Lot.) 1. Awake my harp 1 Though sad the day, Wake to thy melancholy lay ! The voice of God hath spoken loud ; His fire came wafted in its cloud ; The glorious right-hand of his power Shone terribly, in Death's red shower. 2. I saw on earth, ev'n face to face, His angels, ministers of grace ; I saw in heaven, that angel-pair. His ministers of wrath and war ; I saw them, walking gloriously, On the black cloud that filTd the sky. 3. I saw, through the gloom-cumber'd air. Their golden girdles glistening clear ; 318 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, As, from Heav'n's charged battle-bow, Thej shot their dazzling shafts below ; The shafts came down, divinely aim'd, And Sodom, and her sisters, flam'd. 4. Oh day of vengeance ! Day of wrath ! Of Desolation and of Death ! Brimstone and Burning blast the Plain ; Death hath devoured the wicked men ; — I too partake my dole of woe ; Tears for my Mother largely flow ! SCENE Y. Heights near Mount Carmel^ {as hefore,^ Abraham, Eliezer, Chief- Shepherd of Lot, Shepherds and Shepherdesses of Abraham. Abraham. My kinsman safe ? Chief-Shep. of Lot. Thy servant, sent in haste. From Bela, ere the first night-watch was spent, To carry thee the tidings, left him safe, A DRxiMATIC POEM. 319 With his two virgin-daughters, near the gate Of Bela, covered by the twin bay-trees That interlace their branches, and make there A tent-like shade. Nor yet thy kinsman's house, Amid the general havoc of the Plain, Hath felt not of the fury, nor remains Unwidow'd, and unstruck ; his spouse, decoy'd Back by her worldly love, his sons-in-law. Men of the land, that had in Sodom spous'd His daughters, scoffing at the heavenly voice, That warn'd them off, have met the punishment Due to their disobedience ; yet their loss, Hath made upon thy kinsman's house a breach. Meet for lament and mourning. Abraham. Heaven was kind To testify the danger ; they themselves. In stopping up, like the deaf asp, their ears To the sweet voice of Heaven, 'gainst their own souls Were cruel, and have fallen into the doom, Of which they made their mock'ry. — But, O friends ! Behold the face of Heaven, how chang'd ! the cloud. That carry' d, yester-morn, within its womb The fire of devastation, now purg'd off. Has left the sky to yonder dripping clouds, 320 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, As tlieir possession ; — See, o'er Debir's grove, Token of love, God's rainbow, in its arms Taking the green eartb up, and whispering down Calmness and peace, after such wild alarm And tumult loudly rolling. — Tow'rd the east. Look down, on what was once the Jordan-plain, Well- water 'd as the garden of the Lord, A vale of verdure, a luxurious lap. Whereon both Spring and Autumn, emulous Each of enriching most, flung flowers and fruits, Profuse beyond profusion's wonted rate ; Behold it now, deflower'd, deform'd, defac'd, A vale of ashes and of desolation, Her olive -groves to dust consumed, her vines, Black as an hearth with burning ; all her towns. Whose tile-enameird roofs but yesterday Sparkled upon her bosom, from their place Extinguished quite ; their temples, turrets, domes, Become an heap, all black, save where the flames, Yet smouldering 'neath the ruins, from the rifts Burst out, like water-bubbles on the gurge Of some rock-ruffled stream ; — Yet doth their smoke Ascend like smoke of furnace — see it rise. Curling in folds voluminous, from where Gomorrha stood, and Sodom — how it floats A DRAMATIC POEM. 321 Towards both mountain-banks! — the long, low, lake From end to end, as far as vision kens, Is fiird and chok'd with vapour, rolling up Tow'rds the Sea's northern bay. Eliezer. a mournful view 1 Man's pride of glory stain' d ! Alas ! the city So costly, so unholy ! In one hour Js she made desolate ! Abraham. God hath aveng'd Himself on her unrighteousness ; to her A goodly land he gave, fulness of bread. And heart-rejoicing wine ; but she, ingrate, Wax'd proud and haughty; lustful Idleness Was in her and her daughters ; she did work Abomination in the sight of heaven ; And sacrificed, to beastly gods obscene, Oblations of uncleanness ; therefore God Hath taken her away, as he saw good ; Nor doth her place now know her ! — In this stroke, O friends ! let us acknowledge God ; admire His power ; revere his justice ; and rejoice, For all the goodness he hath done to us. And to my brother's house. — Here, in the sight Of God, and looking down, with pious awe^ 322 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, Upon his field of vengeance, smoking yet^ Express, ye Sons and Daughters of my house 1 Express it, in your songs ! (Shepherds and Shepherdesses /orm themselves into two choirs^ and alter nateh/ sing.) Shepherds. 1. But yesterday I saw, with fear, The wrath-charged cloud of God draw near ; It came ; it settled o*er the plain ; And downward fell the fiery rain ; Man's pride of beauty, and his power Fell underneath the killing shower. Shepherdesses. 2. O terrors of the Lord ! how shook The world, in day of his rebuke ! His chariots like a whirlwind came ; His arrows flew, fledg'd fierce with flame ; With fury he discharged his ire. And his rebuke with flames of fire. a dramatic poem. 323 Shepherds. 3. O earth, that saw'st his lightnings smite, Be thou astonished at his might ! Ye that afar are dwellers, hear. And tremble at the tale of fear ! Ye that are near, approach, and see How terrible his doings be ! Shepherdesses. 4. Th' Almighty, in his hand, doth hold A cup of trembling, mix'd of old ; It is of mixture full, the Lord Therein his wine of wrath hath pour'd ; The wicked drink ; the dregs they wring Thereof, that bitter anguish bring. Shepherds. 5. Th' Almighty in his hand doth hold A cup of Blessing, mix'd of old ; The cup is large, and deep, and round ; Salvation, Mercy, there are found ; 324 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. He to the good extends the cup ; They drink the wine of Blessing up. Shepherdesses. O happy they, who, just and pure, Live in the love of Heaven secure ! Who fear not — save that God-sprung dread That fortifies, not makes afraid ; Goodness and mercy, day by day, Pursue them on their heavenly way. Both Choirs. 7. For me — O never shall my heart From trust in Abram's portion part ; He is my hope, my stafi", my stay. My joy in trouble's evil day ; Exult my heart ! Sing loud, my voice ! God reigneth, let the good rejoice. END of the destruction OF SODOM. ENVY-A FABLE. As on a summer noontide, round My garden glad I walked, And with the pretty plants and flowers, God*s blooming children, talk'd ; 2. I spy'd in one rich-scented bed, Together sweetly set, A lily tall, a towering rose, A lowly violet : 3. Each spread its glories out, as if It wish'd to shine alone ; Yet all the uninvidious three In sweet agreement shone. 326 ENVY A FABLE. 4. I said unto the towering Rose, — Sweet Rose ! why seekest thou not. Where thou may'st gather all thy praise, Some unpartaken spot ? 5. The Rose reply'd— I envy not What praise each sister shares ; Albeit in mine own fame I joy, I glory too in their's. 6. I said unto the Lily tall, — O ! gentle lily, how Amid such gay competitors, So sweetly bloom canst thou ? 7. The Lily said — I envy not Each blooming sister's praise ; The eye that looks on them with joy, Glads me too with its gaze. ENVY A FABLE, 321 8. I said unto the Violet, — Sweet leaf! how canst thou shine In thy humility, mid flowers O'erflaunting thee so fine ? 9. The meek and richly-spangled flower With gentle voice reply 'd, — To hear my taller sisters' praise. It is my joy and pride. 10. Again at eve, my walk I took, Where gay the garden glows, And, as the sun sunk in the west, In th' east the moon uprose ; 11. The sun, o'ercurtain'd round with gold, Was bedding on the tide ; The moon, forth from her tiring-room, Came peering in her pride. 328 ENVY A FABLE. 12. I said unto the Sun, — fair light ! Why speed'st thou thus away ? Is it because thou canst not bear Thy sister's rising ray ? 13. The Sun reply'd, — I go because Heaven's scale must now decline, I do resign the sky with joy ; 'Tis sister's turn to shine. 14. Again, as Morning's star wax'd dim. My garden walk I took ; The moon was sinking in the west. The dawning sunbeam broke. 15. I said unto the Moon, — fair light ! Why speed'st thou from the sky ? Dislikes it thee thus to behold Thy brother mounting high ? ENVY A FABLE. 329 16. The Moon reply' d, — I go because With me must go the Night ; 'Tis not because I loathe to see My brother's rising light. 17. That day I pass'd unto the hall Where dames assemble gay ; Fair flowers 1 how shone they in the dance ! How gallant their array ! 18. Their pretty bosoms heav'd, as down The dance they tript, and smiFd ; But Envy, 'neath the silky gauze Lay, like an adder coiFd ! 19. I pass'd into the halls where met Sage folks, of letter'd name ; But Envy gnaw'd into their souls, — Each grudg'd his neighbour's fame. o30 ENVY A FABLE, 20. Thus all God's creatures guiltless live Of Envy's carking cares ; 'Tis man alone tbat in his breast Th' unblessed canker bears. 21. For me (be thank'd, my gracious God !) Some seraph, kind and good, Surely hath rooted from my heart, A weed so rank and rude ; 22. 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