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ANTIOCHUS; JASON; the SAMARITAN AMBASSADORS.

Ant. Approach. Come forward; stand not at the door

Wagging your long beards, but demean yourselves

As doth become Ambassadors.

seek ye?

What

An Ambassador. An audience from the King.

Ant.
Speak, and be brief.
Waste not the time in useless rhetoric.
Words are not things.

Ambassador (reading). "To King
Antiochus,

The God, Epiphanes; a Memorial
From the Sidonians, who live at Sichem."
Ant. Sidonians ?
Ambassador.

Ant.

Ay, my Lord. Go on, go on ! And do not tire thyself and me with bowing!

Ambassador (reading). "We are a col

ony of Medes and Persians."
Ant. No, ye are Jews from one of the
Ten Tribes;

Whether Sidonians or Samaritans
Or Jews of Jewry, matters not to me;
Ye are all Israelites, ye are all Jews.
When the Jews prosper, ye claim kindred
with them;

When the Jews suffer, ye are Medes and
Persians:

I know that in the days of Alexander Ye claimed exemption from the annual tribute

In the Sabbatic Year, because, ye said, Your fields had not been planted in that

year.

Ambassador (reading). “Our fathers, upon certain frequent plagues, And following an ancient superstition,

them go

To Apollonius, my governor

There in Samaria, and not trouble me. What do they want?

day

Which by the Israelites is called the

Sabbath,

And in a temple on Mount Gerizim

Without a name, they offered sacrifice. Now we, who are Sidonians, beseech thee,

Who art our benefactor and our savior, Not to confound us with these wicked Jews,

But to give royal order and injunction To Apollonius in Samaria.

Thy governor, and likewise to Nicanor, Thy procurator, no more to molest us; And let our nameless temple now be named

Ant. I will burn down their city, and will make it

Waste as a wilderness. Its thoroughfares Shall be but furrows in a field of ashes. It shall be sown with salt as Sodom is! This hundred and fifty-third Olympiad Shall have a broad and blood-red seal upon it,

Stamped with the awful letters of my

name,

it pleaseth me

Ant.

My Lord, they wait

They shall wait no longer!

ACT II.

scourges !

I feel them more than ye do, O my

sons !

But cannot come to you. I, who was

wont

To wake at night at the least cry ye made,

To whom ye ran at every slightest hurt,

I cannot take you now into my lap And soothe your pain, but God will take you all

Into his pitying arms, and comfort you, And give you rest.

A Voice (within). What wouldst thou ask of us?

Ready are we to die, but we will never Transgress the law and customs of our fathers.

The Mother. It is the voice of my first-born! O brave

And noble boy! Thou hast the privilege

Of dying first, as thou wast born the first.

The same Voice (within). God looketh on us, and hath comfort in us; As Moses in his song of old declared, He in his servants shall be comforted. The Mother. I knew thou wouldst not fail! He speaks no more,

If thou eat not

He is beyond all pain!
Ant. (within).
Thou shalt be tortured throughout all
the members

Of thy whole body. Wilt thou eat

then?

feared

Canst thus encounter death, I need not fear;

The others will not shrink.

Third Voice (within). Behold these hands

Held out to thee, O King Antiochus, Not to implore thy mercy, but to show That I despise them. He who gave

them to me

Will give them back again.
The Mother.

O Avilan, It is thy voice. For the last time I hear it ;

For the last time on earth, but not the last.

To death it bids defiance and to torture. It sounds to me as from another world, And makes the petty miseries of this Seem unto me as naught, and less than naught.

Farewell, my Avilan; nay, I should say Welcome, my Avilan; for I am dead Before thee. I am waiting for the

living,

Half here, half there. Make haste,

Antiochus,

To reunite us; for the sword that

the

cleaves

These miserable bodies makes a door

necks, slay me,

For I too am a woman, and these boys Are mine. Make haste to slay us all, And hang my lifeless babes about my neck.

Sixth Voice (within). Think not, Antiochus, that takest in hand To strive against the God of Israel, Thou shalt escape unpunished, for his wrath

Shall overtake thee and thy bloody house. The Mother. One more, my Sirion, and then all is ended.

Having put all to bed, then in my turn I will lie down and sleep as sound as they. My Sirion, my youngest, best beloved! And those bright golden locks, that I so

The Mother. Yea, I will speak with him and will persuade him.

O Sirion, my son! have pity on me, On me that bare thee, and that gave thee suck,

SIRION.

Are they all dead?

Of all thy Seven Sons Behold them where they

thee up

With the dear trouble of a mother's care Unto this age.

above thee,

Look on the heavens

And on the earth and all that is therein; Consider that God made them out of