Act 1 — Scene III

My star grows brighter with each setting sun; The lowly child of old Hammedetha Is first among the servants of the king. Ah, Mordecai, you did not know I am An Agagite, who fed upon the breast Of unrelenting hate toward every child Of Israel, who will not bend the knee Save to the God of Abraham. Oh, do

You, Zeresh, hear that wail of anguish? Love, I know that you are proud to be the wife Of him who can direct such music.

I Am proud of Haman's power.

Go call our friends.

Before the rising sun had touched with gold The treetops on the peaks of Zagros, Tesh, The son of Zalphon, was abroad In Shushan on the errand of my lord.

Not only in this city, but, my spouse, In every province of the king, the Jews In sackcloth mourn because of Haman's might. But would you know the secret of my strength? This ring! The seal of Xerxes. It is death To every drop of Jacob's blood within The Domain of Ahasuerus' rule.

The guests are coming.

Oh, the messages Of enmity are swift as shafts of love. Now, Zeresh, call the servants of the house And set a sumptuous feast, for Haman would Take counsel of his friends.

My gracious lord, The table is already set. Go greet The guests and bring them in.

Parshandatha, What do you think of Haman? Did you note My lord?

I did, madam. His happiness Is most complete. His rapid rise to power Has all but ravished him with joy. And yet, Methought that something still he lacked. Perhaps The queen's consent has not yet been obtained To this decree that puts the Jews to death.

What do you mean? The queen's consent? My Lord Has naught to do with Xerxes' wife, and why Should he be troubled for a woman's whim? Besides, who knows but Esther does approve This slaughter of the Jews?

Approve, madam? She is a queen, but still a woman!

So Am I, though not a queen! A woman, yes But with no stomach for that hated race!

'Tis whispered in the court that Esther is Herself a Jew.

The Persian queen a Jew! Then let her perish with her blood.

But would My lord consent to Esther's death?

Consent Again! Parshandatha, why do you harp Upon consent? Now listen to my words. But should you e'er disclose one breath Of what I say, you are yourself a Jew, Nor is there any power in Persia's king To save your life. My lord pretends to hate The Jews. His hate is only wounded pride. The deference of Mordecai is all That Haman wants. He does not know the queen Is Hebrew blood. This fact must still be kept Concealed—concealed, that is, until the day Of death. Oh, he shall know who Esther is— This Israelite that banquets with my lord! You think his rise is due to Esther's power?

Madam, I do not know.

Not know! not know! But what think you, Parshandatha? Of course You do not know.

Madam, he often dines With Esther and the king. The king no doubt Is very fond of your most gracious lord.

The king!

Mayhap the queen also. Your lord Is young and handsome still. The king is far Beyond the queen in years.

I can Not catch your drift.

Madam, your husband has A ready wit. The queen enjoys life.

Enjoys life! And so do I, and likewise death. Now hold Your blasted tongue. My husband sups again To-morrow with the Jewish queen. They say When Haman dines her majesty prepares The banquet with her own most dainty hand! Parshandatha, whose hand, think you, has laid The feast of Adar?

Zeresh! call you death A feast!

A glorious feast on which my soul Already feeds, and Esther shall be there!

Be seated at the table. Citizens Of Shushan, patriots of Persia, friends, The servant of the king has called you here To tell you of his triumph and to ask Your sage advice. Two days ago the prince And I sat down together to a feast Within the palace walls and drank your health. The royal cup was blushing like the spume Of autumn clouds at sunset, when a wail Arose in Shushan that has sore perplexed The people. Mordecai, the haughty Jew, Who sits beside the palace gate, refused To bow or do me reverence, although Admonished by the king. I was born A humble subject in the private ranks Of life; but now I wear the signet ring Of Xerxes. Friends, the law that dooms the Jews To simultaneous slaughter can not be Revoked. Last night the queen invited me To banquet with her lord. The necklace that She wore of iridescent pearls was like A rainbow over polar snows. Ah, she Was fair to look upon! And now my cup Was filled to overflowing—

(Zeresh, are You ill?)—when Esther begged that I would come Again to-morrow to another feast Her hand would lay for Haman and the king. My wealth is multiplied beyond my ken; The sceptre is almost within my grasp. But all these things avail me naught, so long As yonder hated Jew remains unbent.

Destroy the brute at once!

Oh, that will not Suffice. 'Tis not his death, but homage that Must sweeten my revenge. Ah, I would see Him groveling on the earth as Haman passed. My rank and station must be recognized. I sit beside the king; I am premier Of Persia. Yet this Jewish dog is still Unmoved!

Hang him where the kites will eat His eyes!

O Zeresh, you are like the rising sun— An inspiration in the hour of gloom. We'll build this gallows fifty cubits high, And then his Hebrew pride will bite the dust. Oh, I can hear him whining like a cur, My love, your wisdom is above the head. A woman's heart is like an oracle Divine. Prepare this gallows. Friends, I go At dawn to greet the king. At night we dine Alone with Esther, and—

Why Zeresh, are You ill again? Send for the leech. Her blood Is over wrought with too much happiness.