Be silent, tongue, thou art a babbling
counsellor. Jabaster's patriot soul needs not the idle schooling of a
child. If he be silent, 'tis that his wisdom deems that the hour is not
ripe, but when her leader speaks, Israel will not be slack.'
'The Moslemin in council! We know what must come next. Our national
existence is in its last agony. Methinks the time is very ripe, Abidan.'
'Why, so we think, great sir; and say the word, and twenty thousand
spears will guard the Ark. I'll answer for my men. Stout Scherirah looks
grimly on the Moabites. A word from thee, and the whole Syrian army will
join our banner, the Lion of Judah, that shall be our flag. The tyrant
and his satraps, let them die, and then the rest must join us. We'll
proclaim the covenant, and, leaving Babylon to a bloody fate, march on
to Zion!'
'Zion, his youthful dream, Zion!'
'You muse!'
'King or no king, he is the Lord's anointed. Shall this hand, that
poured the oil on his hallowed head, wash out the balmy signet with his
blood? Must I slay him? Shall this kid be seethed even in its mother's
milk?'
'His voice is low, and yet his face is troubled. How now, sir?'
'What art thou? Ah! Abidan, trusty, stanch Abidan! You see, Abidan, I
was thinking, my good Abidan, all this may be the frenzy of a revel.
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