Act 3 — Scene I

In the morning man may flourish In the evening be cut down; Dawn may find a hero famous, Nightfall see him lose renown.

In his youth Ahafid's singing Was the pride of Persia's rule; Now that age has come upon him, Hear him braying like a mule.

Still singing like a nightingale, say you?

I did. [Aside] The long-eared kind that crops the grass.

Haman's hanged upon the scaffold that He built for Mordecai. The Jew now wears The signet ring that sealed his nation's life. His nation's life? But how can he explain The slaughter of the Persian hosts?

Now if he would, I think he could, and if he should, He'd thus explain: "The hosts were slain because my brain Was not insane. So I raised Cain, obtained the reign Of this campaign, and still remain, though they were slain."

I think I must be growing deaf. You rhymed?

I only spoke a little joke. If I could sing, I'd say the ring, And not the king explains the thing.

But does The God of Abraham inspire revenge? The worshippers of Moloch would have shrunk From such a day of death. I marvel that Queen Esther did not intervene. She rules The king. But wherefore did I say the king?

I think it must have been to rhyme with ring.

Darius' son's a spineless debauchee.

The Jew the purple robe enfolds And eke the royal gown; For Mordecai the sceptre holds And Esther wears the crown.

Ahafid said he couldn't sing Ahasuerus' praise, And that his harp had lost the tone it had in other days. But though the Jews are on the throne and Xerxes maudlin full, Ahafid once more tunes his lyre and bellows like a bull. Look out, here comes the Jew, a cloud upon His brow, the weight of empires on his brain. What matters does he now revolve? I fear The day of Adar troubles Mordecai. We'll stand aside and hear the premier.

The name of Haman perish from the earth! The seed of Abraham be multiplied Until they are as numberless as sands Upon ocean's shore! This was my prayer, I learned it at my mother's knee. Was I Not justified?

The Holy Scripture saith, "Vengeance belongs to God."

But was I not His instrument? Jehovah wrought through me; His will, not mine was done.

And yet His will Was yours?

The wicked Haman would have slain Even the queen herself and every Jew That lives within the hundred provinces Of Xerxes' weak and vacillating rule.

Thy action was no more than self-defense?

Not self-defense of Mordecai alone, But of my blood, of Esther and the sons Of Jacob, exiled and defenseless else. The God of Abraham may chasten, but He keeps his promises, nor will forsake. Rameses sat upon his haughty throne And knew not Joseph, for my people were Oppressed with bitter bondage and their lives Made hard in mortar and in brick; but still They grew in numbers and increased and waxed Exceeding mighty, till the land was filled With them. And then the king was sore afraid And wroth because the Jews had never bent The knee at Egypt's shrines. He could enslave But not corrupt the children of the true And living God. And then he called The Hebrew midwives and commanded them To slay thereafter every son that might Be born to Jacob's sacred blood. God kept His covenant with Abraham and raised Up Moses, the deliverer, and when The plagues had failed to soften Pharaoh's heart, The Lord smote every firstborn in the land Of Egypt, save where hyssop mixed with blood Was sprinkled on the lintel of the door And on the two side posts, as Moses had Directed. Saviour of his people, son Of Amram and of Jochebed, obscure Levites, found in an ark of bulrushes Afloat among the flags near by the spot Where Pharaoh's daughter bathed, and yet, and yet—

Was Moses not selected by the Lord To lead the Israelites into the Land Of Promise?

And did he not talk with God Upon the Mount of Sinai, when smoke Enveloped all the peak, and even priests Were not allowed upon that holy ground? Was I more lowly than was Amram's child?

Yet God exalted him until the throne Of Egypt was within his grasp.

Though I, Like Jesse's son, was once a shepherd's lad, To-day I rule ten million souls. Now Moses was a vessel of the Lord When Death passed over every Hebrew home, But slew the firstborn where no blood was found. Was this revenge? Not Moses' hand, but God's Was red.

The servant must obey his Lord.

I did not plot the Persians' death. The plan Of God was in it all.

Else why were you Made premier at the moment when the Jews Faced death in every province of the king?

It was my hand that stopped the massacre, But God avenged the awful wrong!

And Esther! How is it with her? You made Her queen. She was a humble Hebrew girl, Unknown and friendless, but for Mordecai.

She should be grateful for the crown I gave.

But Hatach says her cheeks are often wet With tears.

It may be that she weeps for him Who won her girlish heart before we came To Shushan or had ever seen the king.

And yet that can not be. The shepherd's crook Is not the golden sceptre of a king. I have no doubt that she has long since ceased To think of youthful dreams. She rules the king, And what more does a woman want?

I did Not hope to make her understand at once. My reasons were too subtle for her heart. And so I kept my counsel, for I knew No girl would ever sacrifice her love To save the remnant of a nation's life.

And why might even Esther not forget When once she felt the spell of royal power— The tinsel show and glamour of the court? No woman lives that would not be a queen.

I knew Ahasuerus was a brute, But what of that? Through Esther I have saved A half a million souls.

Through Esther you Have slain a million souls.

When Jepthah vowed A vow unto the Lord he kept his pledge And slew the only daughter of his flesh For a burnt offering unto God, because The Ammonites, his enemy, had been Delivered to the hands of Israel. Now Esther was my only child.

You have Not sacrificed, but elevated her. Although she does not understand your heart, She can but bless her uncle Mordecai.

But why should Esther weep? She risked her life At my behest, but did she not obtain Great favor with the king?

And Esther's life Was forfeit then through Haman's wicked hate.

I wear the royal robe of blue and white.

Does Esther think because her vanity Is flattered by the jewels of a queen That Mordecai is moved by pomp and show?

'Tis not the kingly trappings but the seal— Not sceptre merely but the signet ring, Not rank, but rule that Mordecai would have. I can not understand her tears no more Than she knows why I wear the crown. But I Am justified. Jehovah wrought through me.

Jehovah wrought through him! Hell wrought through him! I marvel that his tongue is not consumed By blasted lies. Wait till he feels the flame That rages in my heart. Hell may not burn A Jew, but even he can not withstand The simoon of a fiery dragon's breath!

But Zeresh, was the Jew not justified?

Justified! gratified! satisfied! Parshandatha, Justified in Jepthah; gratified That he is like the meek and lowly son Of Amram; satisfied that now the crown Of Persia presses only Hebrew brows.

You do forget my lord, Darius' son. You can not think the blood of Jacob flows Through Xerxes' veins? Does he not wear the crown?

Ahasuerus wears a pigeon's heart. The Persian robe's a Jewish gabardine; The crown, a Hebrew priest's phylactery. But did you say forget? Have you been so Long with me, dear, and doubt my memory? Forget Ahasuerus, did you say? That minion of a Jewish girl, who sealed The death of Haman and his sons? His face Is seared upon my heart, his image burnt Into my brain. I tell you Xerxes is No longer king.

But is not Esther queen?

Parshandatha, why do you taunt me thus? Have I not proved your friend? Do I deserve Your mockery?

I do but speak to sting You to revenge.

Let fly your venom then. The Persian empire is in arms. To-night The king does hold a great carouse. The Jew Will sit in state beside the profligate. This blade I have prepared against that hour. The queen, I understand, will be a blaze Of gems. Ahasuerus boasts this night Would all but wreck a petty kingdom.

He Should never live to see the rising sun.

The rising sun! My dear, he shall not see The Pleiades again, and they are up At nine. When cornet and the trumpet bruit The entry of the queen, a hundred blades Like this [disclosing dagger] shall be unsheathed. Parshandatha, You know whose blood my blade shall drink! My hour has come! Ah, Esther, you shall sup Once more with Haman and your drunken lord, While Zeresh keeps her lonely watch Beneath the silent, glittering stars. Come on!