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.