ATHALIAH, MATHAN, ABNER, SUITE OF ATHALIAH.

MATHAN.
Great queen! is this a fitting place for you?
What trouble agitates you—fear congeals?
What do you come to seek amidst your foes?
Dare you approach this temple of profaneness?
Have you cast off that hatred so intense—


ATHALIAH.
List both of you attentively:
I wish not here to call to mind the past,
Nor render an account of blood that's flowed;
I do not take a hasty crowd for judge;
In what its violence has dared put forth,
To justify me, heaven itself has cared.
The great achievements of my rooted power
Have made my name respected to both seas:
By me Jerusalem's a calm profound;
Jordan no longer sees the vagrant Arabs',
Nor proud Philistines' constant ravages,
Lay waste her banks, as in your sovereigns' times;
The Syrian treats me as a sister queen;
At length the treacherous scourger of my house.


ATHALIAH.
Who was to drive his cruelty on me,
Jehu, the haughty Jehu, in Samaria
Is trembling; pressed by potent neighbours
On every side, whom I have found the means
To raise against that murderer; and I
Am left the royal mistress of those lands;
In peace the fruit of my sagacity
Enjoying. But, some days ago, there came
A sleepless trouble to arrest the course
Of my prosperity. A dream (why should a dream
Disquiet me?) feeds in my heart a pang
That wrings it; everywhere I try to shun it;
But everywhere it follows me. It was
During the horror of the night profound,
My mother, Jezebel, before me stood,
Apparelled gorgeously, as on the day
Of her decease; misfortunes had not crushed
Her dignity; and even she had still
That borrowed tint, with which it was her care
To bloom and ornament her countenance,
In order to repair the ravages
Of years irreparable. 'Tremble, daughter,
Thou worthy of myself,' to me she said;
'The cruel God of Judah over thee
Will certainly prevail: I pity thee,
My daughter, falling into His dread hands.'
These fearful words completed, towards my bed
Her shadow seemed to bend itself, and I
Held out my arms in order to embrace it;
But only found confusion horrible
Of mangled bones and flesh dragged in the mud,
And tatters soaked in gore, of hideous limbs,
That dogs, devouring, fought for with each other.


ABNER.
Great God!


ATHALIAH.
In this disorder came before mine eyes
A tender boy, in radiant robes arrayed,
As one beholds the Hebrew priests attired.
My sunken spirits rallied at the vision;
But when recovering from my deadly trouble,
His sweetness, noble air, and modesty
I was admiring, all at once I felt
A homicidal steel, plunged by the traitor
Deep through my breast.—Of objects so diverse
The strange assemblage, seems to you perhaps
A work of chance; and I myself, at times,
Shamed of my fears, have thought it but the effect
Of sombre melancholy; but my soul,
Possessed by this remembrance, in my sleep,
Has twice beheld that spectre terrible:
Twice my sad eyes have had upon them traced
The picture of that boy always prepared
To spring on me. At length, quite wearied out,
With horrors that pursued me, unto Baal
I went to ask protection for my life,
And at his altars look for some repose:
What cannot terror do in mortal mind?
An instinct forced me to the Jewish temple,
And I conceived the thought to appease their God:
Some offerings, I believed, would calm His rage,
And make that God, whate'er He be, more gentle.
Pontiff of Baal excuse my feebleness!
I entered; but the sacrifices ceased,
The people fled; the high-priest furiously
Rushed towards me; whilst he spake, O terrible
surprise!
I saw that selfsame child, my menacer,
Such as my frightful dream had fashioned him.
I saw him; even his air, his linen garb,
His gait, his eyes, his lineaments entire:
It was himself. He walked beside the high-priest:
But soon they caused him to avoid my sight.
This is the trouble that arrests me here,
And touching which I long to question both.
Mathan, what does this prodigy forebode?


MATHAN.
This dream, and this resemblance seem to me
Quite terrible.


ATHALIAH.
But, Abner, have you seen that fatal boy?
What is he? Of what blood, and of what tribe?


ABNER.
Two children at the altar lend their service:
The one is Joad's, his mother, Josabet;
The other is unknown to me.


MATHAN.
But why
Deliberate, Madam, must not both be seized?
You know my moderation, and regard
For Joad, and that I do not seek revenge
For injuries; that equity alone
In all my counsels is the ruling virtue.
But after all, even were it his own child,
Could he one moment let the culprit live?


ABNER.
What is the crime for which the boy is fitted?


MATHAN.
Heaven's shown him with a weapon in his hand.
Heaven, just' and wise, does nothing fruitlessly.
What do you seek for more?


ABNER.
But on the strength
Of a mere dream urge you that we should plunge
Our hands into the blood of blossoming youth?
You know not yet his father, who he is.


MATHAN.
He stirs our fears; that comprehends the whole.
If of illustrious parents he is born,
The splendour of his lot must speed his doom.
Should fate have ranked him in obscurity,
What matters it if low-born blood be spilt?
Does this slow justice appertain to kings?
Their safety oft depends on prompt redress.
Let us not pinch them with perplexing cares:
Suspected ones are criminals to them.


ABNER.
Mathan, is this the language of a priest?
I, trained to horrid carnage in the field,
The stern executor of royal vengeance,
Must I to the unhappy lend my voice!
And you, who owe to him a father's yearnings,
You, minister of peace in time of wrath,
Now, covering your resentment with false zeal,
Are of opinion blood too lightly flows!
You have commanded me to speak to you
Without concealment, Madam: What is then
This mighty cause of fear? A dream, a child
Devoid of power, that your suspicious eye
Thinks it has recognised, perhaps untruly.