{ATHALIAH.}
Well!
{JOAS.}
What kind of mother!
{ATHALIAH.}
His memory's faithful; and in all he says
I recognise your animus and Joad's.
Behold, how here, corrupting simple youth,
You both employ the peace I leave you in!
Their hate and fury you already foster:
Only with horror you pronounce my name
To them.
{JOSABET.}
Can we conceal the history of our wrongs?
All know it, and you boast of it yourself.
{ATHALIAH.}
Yes, of my righteous rage, and I am proud
To avenge my parents on posterity.
My father and my brother saw I slaughtered;
My mother from her palace window hurled;
And even in one day murdered at once--
Dread sight!--more than twice twenty sons of kings:
And wherefore? To avenge some nameless prophets
Whom she had punished for their senseless frenzy:
And I, cold queen, and daughter without love,
Slave of a cowardly and frivolous folly,
Shall even not return to this blind rage
Insult for insult, death for every death,
And shall not treat all David's progeny
As Ahab's wretched remnant were by them!
Where should I be to-day, had I not had
A tenderness for my torn, strangled mother;
And, conquering my weakness, with my hand
Shedding in torrents my own people's blood,
Had not repressed your plots by that fierce blow!
At length, the inflexible vengeance of your God,
Betwixt our houses all alliance breaks:
David of me's in horror; and his sons,
Though of my blood, are strangers unto me.
{JOSABET.}
In all you have succeeded. Let God see
And judge.
{ATHALIAH.}
That God, a long time past, your only refuge,
Of what effect will be His prophecies?
Let Him produce that King, told to the nations,
That Son of David, your support, your hope--
But we shall meet again. Adieu, I go,
Quite satisfied. I wished to see: I have seen.
{ABNER (_to Josabet_).}
I promised you; and I return the charge
That you committed to me.
_Scenes VIII and IX._
{JOAD, JOSABET, JOAS, ZACHARIAH, ABNER, SALOMITH,
LEVITES, AND THE CHOIR.}
{JOSABET (_to Joad_).}
My lord, Did you o'erhear that haughty queen?
{JOAD.}
I heard the whole, and I bewailed your anguish.
To lend you aid, these Levites and myself,
Were close at hand, resolved to die with you.
(To Joas.)
May God watch over you whose courage, child,
Has just returned this noble testimony
Unto His name! I recognize, dear Abner,
This important service: bear in mind
The hour when Joad expects you. We, whose sight
This inpious, murderous woman has defiled,
Whose prayers has interrupted, will return:
And let immaculate blood, shed by my hands,
Cleanse to the marble what her steps have touched.
{THE CHORUS.}
_One of the daughters of the Choir._
What star has burst upon our sight?
What will that marvellous child one day become?
He braveth pompous haughtiness,
And will not let himself be lured
By any of her dangerous baits.
_Another._
Whilst each to Athaliah's god
With incense to the altar runs,
A child unfearing publishes
That God alone eternal is,
And speaks as once Elijah spoke
Before the other Jezebel.
_Another._
Who will reveal to us thy secret birth
Dear child? Art thou some holy prophet's son?
_Another._
And thus the lovely Samuel was seen
To grow beneath the tabernacle's shadow;
Become the Hebrews' hope and oracle.
May'st thou like him console our race!
_Another sings._
O blessed, a thousand times,
The child that loves the Lord,
Who early hearkens to His voice,
Whom God, Himself, doth deign to teach!
Far from the world he, nurtured, is adorned
By all heaven's blessings from his birth;
And the contagious company of the bad
Doth alter not his innocence.
_All the Choir._
O happy, happy is the child
That God instructs and vindicates!
_The same voice alone._
So, in a secret vale upon the banks
Of a pellucid stream,
Beneath the shadow of an oak,
A tender lily bloometh, nature's love.
Far from the world arising, 'tis adorned
With all heaven's blessings from its birth;
And the contagious company of the bad
Doth alter not its innocence.
_All the Choir._
O blest, a thousand times, the child
That God doth render docile to His laws.
_One voice alone._
My God, how can a growing virtue walk
Amongst so many dangers with sure step %
What obstacles are found to his designs
Who seeketh Thee, and wisheth innocence
What enemies make war on him!
Where can Thy saints conceal themselves?
The evil-doers overspread the earth.
_Another._
O David's palace, and his cherished city,
Famed mount, where even God a long time dwelt,
Why hast thou from the heavens drawn down His
wrath?
Sion, dear Sion, what sayest thou,
When thou, alas! beholdst upon the throne
Of thine own kings, an impious stranger sat?
_All the Choir._
Sion, dear Sion, what sayest thou,
When thou, alas! beholdst upon the throne
Of thine own kings, an impious stranger sat!
_The same voice continues._
Instead of David's pleasing strains,
In which he poured his holy raptures,
And blessed his God, his Father and his Lord:
Sion, dear Sion, what sayest thou,
When thou dost hear them laud the strangers' god,
And curse the name thy princes have adored?
_One voice alone._
How long, O Lord, and yet again how long
Shall we behold the wicked rise 'gainst Thee?
They come into Thy temple braving Thee:
The people who adore Thee, treat as frenzied.
How long, O Lord, and yet again How long
Shall we behold the wicked rise 'gainst Thee?
_Another._
Wherefore, say they, this sombre piety?
Why flee the use of many joys so sweet?
Your God does naught for you.
_Another._
Come laugh and sing, exclaims this impious band;
From flower to flower, from sweet to sweet,
Let us give air to our desires,
In the insensate future who confides?
Doubtful the number of our fleeting years:
Then let us haste to-day to relish life;
Who knows if we shall be to-morrow?
_All the Choir._
O let them weep, my God, and groan for fear,
The miserable, who will not see
The eternal splendour of Thy holy city.
But we must chant, to whom Thou dost reveal
Thy everlasting light;
Of all Thy gifts and grandeur we must sing.
_One voice alone._
What will remain of all their empty pleasures
In which their soul is sunk? I' the dregs of dreams
Whose error's recognized.
At their awaking--awaking full of horror!--
Whilst at the table the just poor will taste
The sweets of peace unspeakable,
The hideous cup exhaustless they will drink,
Which in the day of wrath thou wilt present
To all the guilty race.
_All the Choir._
O waking full of horror!
O fleeting dream!
O dangerous error!
{END OF THE SECOND ACT.}
_ACT III.--Scenes I. and II_
{MATHAN, NABAL, THE CHOIR.}
{MATHAN.}
Young daughters, go, and say to Josabet
That Mathan waits to speak to her in private.
_One of the daughters of the Choir._
Mathan! O God of heaven do thou confound him.
{NABAL.}
How now? all flee, disperse without reply!
{MATHAN.}
Let us approach.
{ZACHARIAH, MATHAN, NABAL.}
{ZACHARIAH.}
Audacious! Whither would you go? Forbear
Beyond this place to make advance: it is
The holy minister's divine abode.
To all profane the law forbids the entrance.
Of whom are you in search? My mother shuns,
Upon this solemn day, the guilty sight
Of foul idolatry; and prostrate now
Before the Lord, would shrink from being disturbed.
{MATHAN.}
My son, her time is ours; be not alarmed;
I wish to speak to your illustrious mother.
I come here charged with orders from the queen.
_Scene III._
{MATHAN, NABAL.}
{NABAL.}
The children have already _their_ fierce pride.
But what doth Athaliah seek in this?
What is this tumult born of in her councils?
By overbearing Joad this morn offended,
And in her dreams braved by a murderous child,
She went to sacrifice the high-priest Joad
Unto her wrath, and in the end to place
Within that temple Baal and you. You had
To me already testified your joy;
I hoped, on my part, for so rich a prey.
What changes thus her vacillating vows?
{MATHAN.}
I have not known her, friend, for two days past.
No more the queen of an enlightened spirit,
Intrepid, raised beyond her timid sex,
Who crushed, at first, her wondering enemies,
And knew the value of occasion lost:
The pangs of vain remorse whelm this great soul:
She wavers, hesitates, is in a word,
A woman. I, her heart, already wrung
With threats from heaven, had filled with bitterness
And rancour; she, confiding to my care
Her vengeance, had commanded me to bring
At once her guards together: but, indeed,
Whether that brat before her brought, and said
To be an outcast from his parents, had
Diminished the alarm of frightful dreams,
Or she had seen in him some unknown charm,
I found her anger reeling, undecided:
She now puts off her vengeance till to-morrow.
Her projects all appear to slay each other.
"Some knowledge I have gained of this boy's fate,"
So did I say; "now of his ancestry
They have begun to boast: from time to time
Joad shows him to the factious, holds him up,
As if another Moses, to the Jews,
And lying oracles support his speech."
These words did cause the blood to mount her brow:
Ne'er lucky fable had such prompt effect.
"Must I drag on in this uncertainty?
Let us escape," said she, "this restlessness.
To Josabet declare you this resolve--
'The fires are kindling, and the sword prepared,
Nothing can save your temple from destruction,
If hostage for your faith that child's not given.'"
{NABAL.}
Why for a boy of whom they're ignorant,
That chance, perhaps, has cast into their arms,
Will they behold their temple tombed in weeds?
{MATHAN.}
Ah! of all mortals known, the haughtiest!
Sooner than yield a child into our hands,
That Joad has consecrated to his God,
He would endure the most terrific death.
Besides 'tis plainly seen they love the child.
If, from the queen, I heard a true report,
Joad of his birth knows more than he imparts.
However fatal it may be for them,
I can foresee they will not give him up.
On me the rest remains; and in the end
I hope that fire and sword will free my eyes
Of that obnoxious temple!
{NABAL.}
What can inspire in you so fierce a hate?
Is it your zeal for Baal inflames you thus?
As for myself, you know of Ishmael blood,
I neither worship Baal nor Israel's God.
{MATHAN.}
Friend, canst thou think that I allow myself
To be made blind by an unworthy zeal
For a vain idol, fragile form of wood,
Which, notwithstanding my support, the worms
Upon its altar every day consume?
Born servant of the God that temple loves,
It might be Mathan would adore Him still,
If lust of greatness, thirst for dominance,
Could be accommodated to His yoke.
Nabal, what need repicture to thy mind
The noted quarrel of myself and Joad.
When I 'gainst him the censor dared dispute,
My factions, struggles, waitings, my despair?
Vanquished by him I chose a new career,
And wed my soul entirely to the court.
I by degrees approached their royal honours,
And soon my voice was made an oracle.
I probed their heart, and flattered their caprice;
Bestrewed with flowers the precipice's brink;
Serving their passions, naught to me was sacred;
Measure and weight I changed as they inclined.
As much as Joad's unpliant humour pained
The softness of their supercilious ear,
So much I pleased them with my dexterous art;
Concealing from their eyes the bitter truth;
Lending convenient colour to their rage;
And, lavish, above all, of wretches' blood.
At length, to Baal, whom she had introduced,
By Athaliah was a temple reared.
Jerusalem did weep to see herself
Profaned: The alarmed band of Levi's race
Did elevate to heaven appalling cries.
Giving example to the timid Jews.
Deserter from their law, myself approved
The enterprise, and merited by that
Baal's priesthood: and I made myself withal
A terror to my rival; I put on
The turban--walked his equal. Ne'ertheless
I must avow, that in that glorious height
The troublesome memory of the God I left
Still throws into my soul a shade of dread:
Tis that which strengthens and supports my fury.
Happy, if on the temple my revenge
Accomplishing, I can at length content
Her petty spite, and lose amongst the wreck
The ravage and the slaughter, my remorse,
By dint of those enormities. But here
Is Josabet.
_Scene IV._
{JOSABET, MATHAN, NABAL.}
{MATHAN.}
Commissioned by the queen
To calm again, and dissipate the anger,
Princess, in which heaven placed so sweet a soul,
Be not surprised at my addressing you.
A rumour, which however I suspect
To be a fable, favouring the warnings,
Which in a dream she had received, on Joad,
Accused of dangerous complots, she was going
To pour the floodgates of her wrath. I wish
Not here to boast of services to you--
I know of Joad's injustice to myself--
But for offence I must return good deeds.
At length, I come to speak the words of peace.
Live, solemnize your feasts without distrust,
She only claims a pledge of your submission:
It is--I did my utmost to dissuade her--
The orphan whom she says that she has seen.
{JOSABET.}
Eliacin?
{MATHAN.}
I am ashamed of her on that account:
Of a vain dream she makes too much ado:
But you declare yourselves her mortal foes,
If not that child's resigned to me at once:
The queen impatiently 'waits your reply.
{JOSABET.}
And that on her part is the peace announced.
{MATHAN.}
Can you one moment hesitate to grant it?
Or is that courtesy too dear for peace?
{JOSABET.}
Could Mathan, I was wondering, stript of guile,
Have overcome the injustice of his heart;
And, fatal plotter of so many ills,
Could he be author of a shade of good.
{MATHAN.}
Of what do you complain? Come I enraged
To tear from you your offspring, Zachariah?
What is this other child you love so well?
In turn, this great affection marvels me.
Is _he_ to you a pearl so precious, rare?
Is _he_ a liberator trained by Heaven?
Remember, your refusal would confirm
A faint report that's just begun to spread.
{JOSABET.}