JOAD, JOSABET.

JOSABET.
The storm has burst!
The queen, enraged, demands Eliacin.
Already of his birth, and your designs
They have begun to pierce the mystery:
Mathan but failed to name to me his father.


JOAD.
To the perfidious Mathan who has told it?
Has not your agitation said too much?


JOSABET.
I did whate'er I could to curb myself.
Howe'er, believe me, peril presses, Sir;
For happier times let us reserve that child.
Whilst wicked ones deliberate with each other,
Before he is surrounded, torn from us,
Allow me to conceal him once again;
To him are open yet the doors, the gates.
Shall we convey him to the wildest desert?
I am prepared, I know a secret way,
By which myself and he, still unperceived,
The torrents of the Cedron passing over,
May go into the desert, where in tears,
And seeking safety, like ourselves, in flight,
David escaped his rebel son's pursuit.
I shall, on his account, fear wild beasts less;—
But why do you not favour Jehu's aid?
Perhaps good counsel I may offer you;
Let us make Jehu guardian of this treasure,
We could to-day conduct him to his kingdom,
For short the road is leading to his court.
Jehu has not a wild, relentless heart;
The name of David's honoured in his eyes.
Alas! is he a king so callous, cruel,
Unless his mother was a Jezebel,
That he would not commiserate the fate
Of such a suppliant? Is not his cause
The common one of kings?


JOAD.
Dare you propose to me such timid counsels?
What can you hope in Jehu's countenance?


JOSABET.
Does God forbid all care and all prevision?
Will not an over-confidence offend Him?
Employing human means to sacred ends,
Has He Himself not Jehu's arm equipt?


JOAD.
Jehu, on whom I see your hopes are built,
Paying His gifts with thankless thoughtlessness,
Jehu in peace leaves Ahab's hideous daughter;
Following the course profane of Israel's kings,
Of Egypt's worthless god he saves the temples;
Jehu, at length, dares offer on the heights
An incense rash which God can not allow:
His heart's not just enough, nor pure his hands,
To serve His cause—to avenge His injuries.
No, No, 'tis God alone we must engage.
Far from concealing, let us show the boy,
And let the diadem surround his head:
I even will urge on the expected hour,
Before vile Mathan's complots can be formed.