The bell tolling.
Enter HATHORNE and MATHER.
HATHORNE.
This is the Potter's Field.

Behold the fate Of those who deal in Witchcrafts, and, when questioned, Refuse to plead their guilt or innocence, And stubbornly drag death upon themselves.
MATHER.
O sight most horrible! In a land like this, Spangled with Churches Evangelical, Inwrapped in our salvations, must we seek In mouldering statute-books of English Courts Some old forgotten Law, to do such deeds?
Those who lie buried in the Potter's Field Will rise again, as surely as ourselves That sleep in honored graves with epitaphs; And this poor man, whom we have made a victim, Hereafter will be counted as a martyr! FINALE SAINT JOHN SAINT JOHN wandering over the face of the Earth.
SAINT JOHN.
The Ages come and go, The Centuries pass as Years; My hair is white as the snow, My feet are weary and slow, The earth is wet with my tears The kingdoms crumble, and fall Apart, like a ruined wall, Or a bank that is undermined By a river's ceaseless flow, And leave no trace behind! The world itself is old; The portals of Time unfold On hinges of iron, that grate And groan with the rust and the weight, Like the hinges of a gate That hath fallen to decay; But the evil doth not cease; There is war instead of peace, Instead of Love there is hate; And still I must wander and wait, Still I must watch and pray, Not forgetting in whose sight, A thousand years in their flight Are as a single day.
The life of man is a gleam Of light, that comes and goes Like the course of the Holy Stream.
The cityless river, that flows From fountains no one knows, Through the Lake of Galilee, Through forests and level lands, Over rocks, and shallows, and sands Of a wilderness wild and vast, Till it findeth its rest at last In the desolate Dead Sea! But alas! alas for me Not yet this rest shall be! What, then! doth Charity fail?
Is Faith of no avail?
Is Hope blown out like a light By a gust of wind in the night?
The clashing of creeds, and the strife Of the many beliefs, that in vain Perplex man's heart and brain, Are naught but the rustle of leaves, When the breath of God upheaves The boughs of the Tree of Life, And they subside again! And I remember still The words, and from whom they came, Not he that repeateth the name, But he that doeth the will! And Him evermore I behold Walking in Galilee, Through the cornfield's waving gold, In hamlet, in wood, and in wold, By the shores of the Beautiful Sea.
He toucheth the sightless eyes; Before Him the demons flee; To the dead He sayeth: Arise! To the living: Follow me! And that voice still soundeth on From the centuries that are gone, To the centuries that shall be! From all vain pomps and shows, From the pride that overflows, And the false conceits of men; From all the narrow rules And subtleties of Schools, And the craft of tongue and pen; Bewildered in its search, Bewildered with the cry, Lo, here! lo, there, the Church! Poor, sad Humanity Through all the dust and heat Turns back with bleeding feet, By the weary road it came, Unto the simple thought By the great Master taught, And that remaineth still: Not he that repeateth the name, But he that doeth the will! ******** JUDAS MACCABAEUS.
ACT I.
The Citadel of Antiochus at Jerusalem.
SCENE I.-- ANTIOCHUS; JASON.
ANTIOCHUS.
O Antioch, my Antioch, my city! Queen of the East! my solace, my delight! The dowry of my sister Cleopatra When she was wed to Ptolemy, and now Won back and made more wonderful by me! I love thee, and I long to be once more Among the players and the dancing women Within thy gates, and bathe in the Orontes, Thy river and mine.

O Jason, my High-Priest, For I have made thee so, and thou art mine, Hast thou seen Antioch the Beautiful?
JASON.
Never, my Lord.
ANTIOCHUS.
Then hast thou never seen The wonder of the world.

This city of David Compared with Antioch is but a village, And its inhabitants compared with Greeks Are mannerless boors.
JASON.
They are barbarians, And mannerless.
ANTIOCHUS.
They must be civilized.
They must be made to have more gods than one; And goddesses besides.
JASON.
They shall have more.
ANTIOCHUS.
They must have hippodromes, and games, and baths, Stage-plays and festivals, and most of all The Dionysia.
JASON.
They shall have them all.
ANTIOCHUS.
By Heracles! but I should like to see These Hebrews crowned with ivy, and arrayed In skins of fawns, with drums and flutes and thyrsi, Revel and riot through the solemn streets Of their old town.

Ha, ha! It makes me merry Only to think of it!--Thou dost not laugh.
JASON.
Yea, I laugh inwardly.
ANTIOCHUS.
The new Greek leaven Works slowly in this Israelitish dough! Have I not sacked the Temple, and on the altar Set up the statue of Olympian Zeus To Hellenize it?
JASON.
Thou hast done all this.
ANTIOCHUS.
As thou wast Joshua once and now art Jason, And from a Hebrew hast become a Greek, So shall this Hebrew nation be translated, Their very natures and their names be changed, And all be Hellenized.
JASON.
It shall be done.
ANTIOCHUS.
Their manners and their laws and way of living Shall all be Greek.