1811–1820. (continued 2)

And fix’d attention to thy slightest wish

Can sooth the sorrows of thy woe worn heart

Tirzah will spend her life to make thine tranquil.

(Enter Attendant.)

Attendant.

The worthy Agnes with her three sweet children

Desire to see thee.

Elizabeth.

I bade her come. Promis’d her feeble age

Should find protection in my native country

I dread to see her; her tears will melt

Her gratitude oppress me.

(Enter Agnes and her three grandchildren)

140Agnes.

Did I then visit Israel’s land for this.

(To Jephthah who during this scene is walking in a gloomy but determined silence in the back part of the stage.)

Can’st thou who taught our savage race humanity

Can’st thou infringe its inviolable rights

And must Elizabeth, the kind the good,

She at whose presence ev’ry sorrow fled

At whose approach even misery smiled

Must she be sacrificed?

Ye powers of kindness melt his heart to pity

Oh how the poor will rue this dire event

I bro’t you here dear babes to thank your generous friend

But she no more will cheer your fainting souls

No more with her own hands your forms adorn

She’s going to join her kindred angels

Lift up you [little innocent] hands with mine sweet babes

Perhaps our prayers may move stern Jephthah’s heart

Come let us kneel and urge him to relent.

(As Agnes and the children kneel Jephthah goes out.)

Elizabeth.

(Raising Agnes and the children.)

My good old friend, I thank thy honest zeal

But do not by thy grief distress my father

Thy little innocents, shall ne’er want friends

My mother do not say that thou art childless

I give these helpless orphans, for thy children

Guard them I pray thee for Eliza’s sake.

From ev’ry vice, and form their minds to virtue.

Bethulah.

Sweet babes ye ne’er shall want a mother’s care

While sad Bethulah owns this wretched being.

Elizabeth.

Tirzah wilt thou attend the little guests.

Pl. XXVI.—Julia Chittenden, Pupil, 1800

141(Tirzah leads the children to the back part of the stage.)

Elizabeth.

Mother I have one more request to make

If thou wilt grant it, I shall leave the world

With less regret, without one secret pang.

Bethulah.

What can’st thou ask my darling child

Which thy fond mother will not joy to give.

Elizabeth.

I fear thou hast not forgiven my father

The hasty vow which binds me to the tomb

Forgive him my dear mother I entreat

It wrings my heart to see my parent’s coldness

Oh let no tears of hatred bathe my tomb.

Bethulah.

My dearest child, I have I will forgive him.

Elizabeth.

Then let us seek him that I may view once more.

Returning peace and love within this dwelling.

(Exit Bethulah leaning on her daughter.)

Agnes.

Sweet flower untimely torn from life

In virtues course mature

Short is thy race, but glorious as the sun(light)

Thy innocence more fragrant than the morn

Shall rise in spotless incense to the skies

Sweet babes imprint her image on your hearts

Copy her bright unsullied life in yours

Her smile was charity her heart all love

Her lips drop’d comfort to the wounded heart

Oh may her parting pangs be few

Few as the stains, which sully her pure life.

142Act

Scene I.

(A grove.)

(Elizabeth, Tirzah.)

Elizabeth.

Farewell sweet fields deck’d in the pride of spring

No more thy verdant charms shall meet my view

Ye harmless flocks, no more my fond companions

Shall ye delight me with your sportive gambols

Another now must watch your tender lambs

Another hand must guide you to the field

And thou fair sun, bright image of our Maker

No more thy beams shalt wake the joyous morn

And light my eyes to greet this beauteous earth

Farewell oh world, thy joys I know are fleeting

But still entwine frail man around thy heart

And is it Tirzah, is it a crime to love

The tender reverend name of parent

With such affection, such unbounded fondness

That this torn heart, drawn by the ties of nature

Cleaves fast to earth, and loses sight of heaven

If tis a crime to love with so much ardour

Why rests so many virtues on the passion

And if our friendship ends with mortal being

Why glows its flame more bright at death’s approach.

Tirzah.

Friendship and filial love my dear Elizabeth

Will find a place no doubt in heavenly bosoms

And if our fondness for our earthly friends

Does not exceed the love of our Creator

Tis innocent, nay more a lovely virtue

A duty which commands a blessing on it.

Elizabeth.

It is no crime I’m sure, to love a mother

Fond and good as mine, to revere a father

Whose stern virtues yield, in melting tenderness

143Towards his child. All other ties I quit

Without a struggle, but these, these tear my heart

And melt me quite to weakness.

Tirzah.

I oft have wonder’d at thy fortitude

How can thy heart so firmly meet thy fate

The wisest best of men tho’ bent with age,

Grown callous of the earth and all its pleasures

Tremble at death’s approach, and cling to life

With eager fondness. Then how canst thou my friend

Adorned with ev’ry grace, courted by ev’ry bliss

The earth affords, resign these pleasures

And scarce breath a sigh.

Elizabeth.

Bred in obscurity I feel no bliss

Allied to greatness, except the praise of virtue

Perhaps I had not met a common fate

With equal firmness. But when the world looks on

And applauds the deed, shame nerv’s the feelings

And we meet great evils with firmer patience

Than the triffling sorrows, the secret woes

Which daily rend the heart, which borne with patience

Oft make private life a scene of virtue

Worth an angel’s praise.

(Enter Pedazar, and a number of young women.)

Pedazar.

The people wait the priests are ready.

Elizabeth.

A moment more, Tirzah support my mother

I fear my fate will bend her to the tomb

Oh watch her evening hours with tender care

Try to assuage her grief, bid her remember

We soon shall meet again never to part.

And ah my friend remember

That when a few more waning suns have roll’d

Their silent course, thou too must join me in the narrow tomb

I love thee Tirzah, thou hast many virtues

144But earthly joys too much engross thy heart

Forget not my last words, sweet friend and sister

Life’s but a day a short and wintry day

Then do not waste it in forgetfulness

Of that eternal glorious morn which follows

Receive my last embrace, my last adieu

Farewell my young companions, weep not for me

To that last dwelling whither I am going

Ye all will shortly follow. Then dry your tears

Or weep for your sins, or those of Israel

Thro’ death’s dark vale we pass to realms of bliss

Seek then to adorn your souls in virtue’s robes

By faith prepare to meet the bless’d in heaven

Where I trust this day to find a happy home

Beyond the limits of yon glorious orb

With soul enlarg’d, made pure from earth’s defilement

With saints and angels, sing redeeming love

Glory on glory opening to our view,

Thro’ the never ending ages of eternity

My lov’d companions, my earliest friends

Reject not this my last, my dying counsel

Flee ev’ry pleasure hurtful to the soul

Live here as strangers, bound to a better land

Then we shall meet where sorrow never comes

Where happiness is lasting, as tis pure.

(Enter Jephthah, Elzaphan and attendant priests.)

Jephthah.

(Leading his daughter forward.)

My friends and countrymen behold your chief

Thus justly punished for his cruel vow

Here I devote my child, my only child.

Except her, I have no son or daughter

Her spotless life has been my chief delight

Sum up perfection in a female form

And you name Jephthah’s daughter. Thus to fulfill

My vow to God, I give this sacred life,

A life more dear, more precious than my own.

Let my example teach you to beware

Of rash resolves, of breaking sacred oaths

Each one here present owes a life to God

145A life of virtue, you have sworn with me

To obey his statutes, follow all his laws

Let not this precious blood be spilt in vain

But let this offering teach you to resign

Each selfish wish, each token of rebellion

And silent bend before that power who gives

Not only life but all its dear possessions.

(Jephthah hands his daughter to Elzaphan, who leads her out. A procession of young women follow. Solemn music.)

Note 1. xxx

These sentiments of Elzaphan are not to be considered as agreeing with the laws of Moses truly expounded, but we must suppose that not only Jephthah but those priests who were about him must have mistaken the meaning of the 28^th and 29th verses of the 27th chapter of Leviticus, otherwise they would not have permitted Jephthah to have sacrificed his amiable daughter to his unlawful vow. Not only Jephthah but the leaders of Israel appear to have been tinctured by the idol worship so long prevalent in Israel. Saul seems also to have made a similar mistake when he devoted Jonathan. And all Israel fell into a like error when they devoted the tribe of Benjamin to destruction. The punishment in all these cases, fell on the offender, and doubtless taught the nation the true meaning of the law. See Scott’s notes on Jephthah’s sacrifice.

MRS. STOWE’S REMINISCENCES IN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LYMAN BEECHER.^[40]

“On one occasion of this kind I had a hand in a merry joke enacted at one of the rehearsals of Miss Pierce’s favorite drama of ‘Jephtha’s Daughter.’

“It was when Jephtha, adorned with a splendid helmet of gilt paper and waving ostrich plumes, was awaiting the arrival of his general, Pedazar—his daughter’s lover—who was to enter and say,

“‘On Jordan’s banks proud Ammon’s banners wave.’

Miss Pierce stood looking on to criticise, when having prearranged the matter, a knock was heard, and I ran forward, saying, ‘Walk in, Mr. Pedazar.’ In he came, helmet and all, saying, ‘How are you, Jep?’ who replied, ‘Hulloo, old fellow! Walk in and take a chair.’ Miss Pierce was in no way discomfited, but seemed to relish the joke as much as we young folks.

“On one occasion of this sort father came in late, and the house being packed, he was admitted by the stage entrance. Either from accident or fun, just as he was passing over the stage, the curtain rose, and the law students spied him and commenced clapping. Father stopped, bowed low, amid renewed clapping and laughter, and then passed on to his seat.”

146