What is the sacrifice?

SALOME.

STRANGER.

The Lamb of God.

SALOME.

One whom I dare not name told me of Him.

STRANGER.

Salome, nor the blood of beasts or birds,
Nor penetential pains and misery
Could ever atone for man's continuing sin.
But while he was proscribed and on his way
To dreadful dungeons of eternal death
God pitied him so much He sent His Son
To lift the ban and open prison doors
For whomsoever would believe on Him.
Such perish not, but have eternal life.

SALOME.

Where is the Son, that I may seek and find Him?

STRANGER.

He is the Lamb of God; believest thou?

SALOME.

I would believe; help thou mine unbelief.

STRANGER.

The children shall not for the parents die ;

Each for himself shall bear iniquity,

The Christ for all who will come unto Him.

SALOME.

I will come to Him; He can cleanse me wholly.

STRANGER.

Thy faith hath saved thee; thou mayst go in peace.

May I not follow Him?

SALOME.

STRANGER.

Thou shalt; but learn

That they best follow Him who best fulfil
Their duties to their race as God ordained,
Loving their neighbour even as themselves

And God with all their heart, and soul, and mind;
By being true to those whom God hath bound

In clusters with them on the vine of life.

Not in the literal and formal act

With due observance of religious rites
And many words professing Him as Lord
Is He best followed. They who follow Him
In spirit and in truth best follow Him;

And they shall be the favourites of His fold,
And He shall know them though the world do not,
And He will love them. They shall keep His words
Which, grafted in them, spring to endless life.
Who thus shall follow Him shall ne'er taste death.

SALOME.

The Truth I feel; it is revealed by thee,
The Light thou sheddest hath enlightened me,
If thou wilt go before I see the Way,
Let me walk with thee lest I go astray.

VIII.

GARDEN OF THE PALACE.

SEXTUS and ANTONIUS.

ANTONIUS.

WHAT! Sextus! what! Dost sleep? Arouse thee, man! The dawn hath climbed the heavens and, one by one Plucked the ripe stars. Thou shouldst ere now have

filled

Thy garner full of sleep and harvested

Thy rest.

Wilt thou away with me to Rome?

SEXTUS.

To Rome? Yea, anywhere; let's go at once.

ANTONIUS.

What aileth thee? Wherefore this pallor strange ?
This recklessness of haste? Why hangst thou out
Those signals of distress on either lid ?

Why burn those cresting beacons on each cheek?

SEXTUS.

I am a coward-cowards may shed tears.

I have been wounded.

ANTONIUS.

That is plain as truth.

No blood is left in thee. Those ruddy lakes
On either side the mountain ridge of thy face,
Which glowed with roseate sheen beneath thine orbs
Have all run out and left pale, empty beds;
And there is not fire enough in thy dull eyes

To light a maiden's fumbling lips to thine.

Say, hast thou watched in vain? Hath she not come ? Or hath the storm unhinged thy youthful wits?

SEXTUS.

The storm? What storm? Ah, true, I mind me now. How went the storm abroad? What hast thou seen?

ANTONIUS.

More wonders than portended Cæsar's death.
In heaven two stars came from the almighty throne.
The first was brighter than the brightest star;
The second, brighter than the sun at noon,
Followed the first a little way behind.
The first in form a man; the second God.
A gliding meteor whirled around the first,
And drew it from its seat and put it out.
Then all the planets gathered to one place
And lifted up the second on a cross

Which spanned the heavens and covered the whole earth.

And when the second bowed its head and failed

Deep darkness filled the entire universe

And all the shivering stars in heaven were quenched.