Читать книгу The Epic of Saul - William Cleaver Wilkinson - Страница 5

Gamaliel sat at evening on his roof

And deeply mused the meaning of the law.

The holy city round about him lay

Magnificent, encircled with her hills.

Beyond the torrent Kedron, sunken deep

Within his winding valley, Olivet

Leaned long his shaded ridge against the east,

Distinct in every olive to the sun.

Nearer, amid the city, chief to see,

The glory of the temple of the Lord!

The seat was noble for a noble pile:

The summit of Moriah, levelled large,

Spread larger yet, outbuilt on masonry

Cyclopean, or more huge, pillar and arch

Fast-founded like the basis of a world.

A world of architecture rested there—

Temple, and court, and long-drawn colonnade

On terrace above terrace ranged around,

Cloister, and porch, and pendent gallery,

Height, depth, length, space, and splendor, without end,

Glittering its stones of lustre purest white,

And stately portals rich with gems and gold:

The setting sun now smote it that it blazed.

The sight was torment to Gamaliel's pride,

Torment with pleasure mixed, but torment more,

As there he sat upon his roof alone.

Tall, and erect in port, unbent his form

With all that weight of venerable years,

His head with almond-blossom glory-crowned,

And bosom overstreamed with silver beard,

Gamaliel stood before his countrymen

Their stay, their solace, and their ornament,

One upright pillar in a fallen state.

Fallen, for Rome had pushed her foaming wave

Of conquest far into the East, and laid

Judæa under deluge, quiet now,

But deep, of domination absolute—

A weight as of the sea upon her breast.

Jerusalem was glorious to behold,

Girdled with guardian mountains round about,

And sunlit with her temple in the midst.

Alas, but more her glory, more her shame!

For all her glory was the Roman's now,

The queen a vassal at a tyrant's feet,

She Cæsar serving who should serve but God.

And, worse disgrace than heathen servitude,

There recreant Jews were found, and more and more,

Who their hearts sold to their captivity,

And abjectly gave up the ancient hope

And promise, dawning-star of prophecy,

That yet to captive Israel should arise

Messiah, King of kings and Lord of lords,

To break the yoke from off His people's neck

And gift them with the empire of the earth—

This crown of Israel's hope gave up, to choose,

Instead, for captain and deliverer, one

Base-born, from Galilee, consorting friend

With publicans and sinners, hung at last

Convicted malefactor on the cross!

Such thoughts and tortures exercised the mind

Of grave Gamaliel on his roof that eve.

He felt the burden of his name and fame

Weigh heavy, his renown of sanctity,

With wisdom, rife so wide, and holy zeal.

His head declined upon his bosom, there

Amid the evening cool unheeded, he,

Gray reverend teacher of the law, sat mute,

Rapt over the writ parchment on his knees,

And read, or thought, or thought and read, and prayed.

The veil was on the old man's heart; he saw

Unseeing, for the sense from him was sealed.

In words like these his prayer and plaint he poured:

"Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Will

Jehovah cast us off forevermore?

We groan, O Lord, Thy people groan, beneath

The yoke of the oppressor. It is time,

Lo, bow Thy heavens and come avenging down!

Appear Thou for Thy people! Visit us!

Not only the uncircumcised are come,

And heathen, into Thine inheritance,

But of Thy chosen seed are risen up

False children unto Abraham, to vex

Our nation's peace and shame us to our foes.

The son of Joseph suffered his desert,

Accurséd, on the tree, pretender vile,

Who out of Nazareth came forth to claim

Messiahship, the gift of David's line,

And trailed a glorious banner in the dust,

The banner of the hope of Israel.

That day, too long expected, yet shall dawn

And true Messiah, girded on His thigh

His sword athirst for alien blood, shall ride

Conquering and to conquer over all

The necks of these His enemies and ours.

How long, Lord God of Sabaoth, how long?

For now that hated false Messiah's name

Is preached, the dead for re-arisen to life,

The crucified for glorified, to men,

And Ichabod is written everywhere

On all that was the boast of Israel.

O Thou that overthrewest the harrying horde

Of Pharaoh whelmed beneath the entombing sea,

Rise, overwhelm Thine enemies, restore

The glory and the kingdom to Thine own!"

Gamaliel prayed, and knew not that his prayer

Found voice and smote at least an earthly ear.

"Amen!" Gamaliel started as he heard

The voice of Saul responding fervently.

Saul had been pupil to Gamaliel,

Loyal and loving, and he now was friend

Familiar, whom, as guest, unbidden oft

And unannounced, that famous Pharisee

Welcomed to share his most seclusive hours.

"My son!" "Rabboni!" mutually they said.

The younger to the elder now had come,

A thought to purpose quickening in his breast.

He too was Hebrew patriot, and he yearned

With anguish like his master's, yet at once

Sharper than his, and more accessible

To hope, as well his livelier youth became

And native blood more nimble in his veins—

Saul also, with Gamaliel, yearned and burned,

Beholding prone his country in the dust,

Under the grinding heel of Roman power—

And Messianic glory turned to shame!

Saul's first wish was to bring his brethren back

Stung to their pristine, proud, prophetic hope

Of a Messiah born to regal robes,

Swaying a sceptre, seated on a throne,

Crowned with a crown of myriad diadems,

Symbol of lordship that should myriad tribes

Mass in one mighty empire of mankind.

He felt the soul of eloquence astir

Within him, and he longed to be at war,

In words that flamed like lightning and that smote

Like thunder-stones, against those grovelling men

Who Israel taught to grovel at the feet

Of Galilæan Jesus crucified,

Accepted for the Christ, forsooth, of God!

Such wish, becoming purpose, Saul has brought

This evening to Gamaliel, with high hope,

Hope high, but vain, to disappointment doomed,

Of grateful gratulant words to hearten him,

Approving and applauding his desire,

Won from the wisest in Jerusalem.

Thus minded, Saul, blithe, eager, sanguine, bold,

With yet a grace of filial in his mien,

As toward a master had in love and fear,

Said:

"Teacher, what I came to learn from thee,

Already, having marked thy prayer, I know.

God hear thee out of Zion in thy prayer!

God bring to naught the counsels of His foes!

Now know I, and rejoice to know, that thou,

My teacher in the blessed law, wilt say,

'God speed thee, son,' in what I seek to do.

For, lo, I seek to serve the suffering cause

Of truth wounded and bleeding in the street.

Love of my country burns me as with flame

Imprisoned and living in my very bones—

My country, and my countrymen. This land

To me is lovely like a bride beloved—

Beloved the more, unutterably wronged!

Her trodden dust is dear to me. Not I,

As do my brethren on her bosom born,

Equably love her with composed and calm

Affection sweet. That homesick longing bred

With boyhood in Cilicia haunts me yet,

To heighten love with anguish, and more dear

Make the dear soil of this my fatherland.

A passion, not a fondness, is my love;

And for my countrymen to die, were sweet—

Such blind abandonment of love usurps

My being for my kinsmen in the flesh.

Would God I might in very deed pour out

This blood, no vain oblation, to redeem

My bondmen brethren and to purge this land!"

In speech no farther—though in passionate tears

The strong man vented still his else choked heart.

Gamaliel, with wise senior sympathy,

Sat silent, waiting till that burst were past.

Then gravely:

"Yea, my son, I know thy zeal,

And praise it. Such as thou, in number more,

Might somewhat; such as thou, alas, are few."

His master's praise Saul took as check and chill,

Uttered with that insinuated sense

Of sage discountenance to his youthful zeal.

He shrank, but braced himself, and gently said:

"But, father, not by many or by few

Is our God bound to working. Many or few

To Him is one. Nay, were there none save me,

Were I alone among my brethren, I,

Alone among my brethren, yet would dare."

Against the vernal aspiration warm

Of Saul's young blood and tropic temperament

Gamaliel's aged, wise, sententious phlegm,

And magisterial manner though benign,

Abode unmoved, inert, insensible;

Like an ice-Alp that freezes on its cheek

A breath of spring soft blowing from the south.

With viscid slow demur the old man spoke,

And downcast heavily shook his hoary head:

"To dare is cheap and common with our race,

We are few dastards; did not Judas dare?

And Theudas? But their daring came to naught.

Wisdom with daring, fortitude to wait,

We need, son Saul; the daring that must do,

And cannot wait, has wrought us sumless ill."

Damped, but remonstrant, Saul still plied his plea:

"And yet but now, 'How long,' I heard thee cry,

'How long, Lord God of Sabaoth, how long?'"

"Yea," said Gamaliel, "that I daily cry."

"Thy counsel and thy praying how agree?"

"Men I bid wait; wait not, I pray my God."

"Were this not well, O master calmly wise,

In trust that God will rouse him at my cry,

To rouse myself and strongly side with God?

I cannot rest in peace; I hear the woe

Denounced for such as safely sit at ease

In Zion. Let me do as well as pray."

Saul's rising zeal once more the master checked:

"Praying is doing, likewise waiting works;

But what, son Saul, is in thine heart to do?

I cherished better dreams, my son, for thee,

Than to behold thee leading to their doom

One helpless, hopeless, hapless company more,

Insurgent out of season against Rome,

Confederate sons of folly and of crime!"

Rebuke like this Saul brooked it ill to hear;

With filial sweet resentment he replied:

"And cherish other dreams, I pray thee, father!

No man-at-arms am I to challenge Rome;

Though not even Rome should daunt me, called of God

To front her with but pebble from the brook,

Like David, in her plenitude of power.

Rome rules us, and I grieve, but I rejoice:

I grieve that we are such as must be ruled,

And cannot rule ourselves; but I rejoice,

Since such we are, that we are ruled by Rome.

The strongest and the wisest is the best

To serve, if one must serve. Alas, my country!

Her face is in the dust because her heart

Grovels, and therefore on her neck the heel.

So, not to rid us of the Roman, I

Labor with this desire, but to erect

The dustward spirit of my countrymen.

This people knowing not the law are cursed!"

By instinct wise of policy unmeant,

Saul, in his last half-maledictory words

Of vehement passion edged with bitterness,

Had struck a chord that answered in the breast

Of the habitual teacher of the law.

"Yea," said Gamaliel, "now art thou true son

And utterest wisdom. Make them know the law.

With both my hands I bless thee speaking thus.

The law shall save them, if they know the law."

Saul knew it was Gamaliel's wont that spoke,

His life-long wont of reverence for the law

And trust in its omnipotence to serve

Whatever need befell his nation—this,

Rather than any fresh, fair-springing sense

Of hope in him auxiliar to his own.

Yet, in despair of better heartening now,

And self-impelled to ease his laboring mind,

He, fixed and faltering both, with courteous phrase

Premised of teachable assent sincere

To smooth somewhat thereto his doubtful way,

Frankly a hearing for his counsel sought:

"I ever heard thee, father, teaching that,

And I believe it wholly, mind and heart;

But something now I did not learn from thee,

Hearken, I pray, and weigh if it be wise."

But less like one who hearkened as to weigh

A counsel shown, Gamaliel now to Saul

Seemed, than like one who sat behind a shield

In opposition, a broad shield of brow

Immobile, placid, large circumference,

And orb of diamond proof, between them hung

There on the housetop still in dim twilight,

Ready to quench in darkness any ray

Of word or sign from him that should aspire

To reach an understanding guarded so—

Such to Saul seemed Gamaliel now, while yet,

Despite, repressed but irrepressible,

That strenuous strong spirit thus went on:

"Deeply I have desired to know my time

And not to waste my strength beating the air.

Are not men's needs other with other times?

No more perhaps in peaceful shelters now

Sacred to sacred studies, synagogue

Retirements, where our doctors of the law

Propose in turn their sage conclusions, heard

By questioning disciples—here perhaps

No more is truth most truly taught to men.

Some, it may be, might well go forth to stand

Even at the corners of the streets and cry.

Folly amain preaches to gaping crowds,

And shall not wisdom cry? My heart is hot,

Amid the multitude they make their prey,

To meet these false proclaimers to their face,

And stop their mouths, with Moses and with all

The prophets and the Psalms, from uttering lies."

Gamaliel heard, and like a lion stood,

That shakes his dewy mane from slumber roused;

The old man loomed in action nobly tall,

As thus, with weighty gesture, in a voice

Solid with will, he gently, sternly spoke:

"Nay, Saul, my son, thy zeal misguides thee now—

Thy zeal, and peradventure some conceit

Of wisdom wiser than thine elders. Thou,

Consenting thus to parley with the fool

According to his folly, like becomest.

This is a time to answer otherwise

Than with the wind of words against their words

Of wind, as equal against equal matched.

Those wresters of the law must feel the law

Smiting their mouths shut with the heavy hand.

With blows, not words, vain fools like these are taught.

Go thou thy way, to-morrow shalt thou see

Hap other far than that thou hast devised

Befall those evil men of Galilee.

Our chiefly prudent, watchful for our weal,

Will stop their mouths profane and make an end."

Saul chode his tongue to silence, but his heart

Set stern in resolution touched with pride,

As, after decent pause, he took farewell.

The master and the pupil parted thus,

And both were blind to that which was to be;

For both would change, but change in converse ways

Gamaliel gentle grow, and Saul grow hard.

That morrow, Peter with his brethren all,

Apostle preachers of the Gospel, felt

The heavy hand Gamaliel shadowed fall

Indeed upon them into dungeon thrown.

But thence by night the angel of the Lord,

Opening the doors, delivered them, and bade

Boldly into the temple take their way

And there preach Christ to all the worshippers.

With the first flush of morning, their swift feet

Shod with the sandals of obedience,

They hasten to fulfil the angelic word.

Meanwhile the Sanhedrim for counsel met

Concerning those their prisoners, and the state,

The vexed state, of the Hebrew commonwealth,

Sent pursuivants to fetch them from their cells

And station them in presence to be judged.

But those despatched to bring them came and said,

"We found, indeed, the prison safely shut

And all the keepers keeping watch and ward

Without before the doors; but entering in

To find our prisoners, prisoner found we none."

The captain of the temple, the high-priest,

And all that council mused in maze and doubt—

Gamaliel most, guessing the finger of God.

But now comes one who brings a fresh report,

"Behold," said he, "the men ye put in bond

Are standing in the temple teaching there."

Forthwith the captain of the temple goes,

His band attending, and, no violence shown—

For fear was on them of the people, lest

They stone them—leads the Galilæans in.

Robed venerably each in rich array

Of purple, and fine linen, glistering white

And broidered fair, their flowing garments fringed

With large expanse of border and with cords

Of blue adorned, broad their phylacteries,

The council of the seventy sat severe

Within their council-hall in solemn state.

A semi-orb they sat, or crescent-wise,

And in the midst, between the horns, were placed,

Under their beetling frown, the prisoners.

Awful these felt the presence of the place,

And, while the high-priest of their nation, throned

Middle and chief among the councillors,

Denouncing asked: "Did we not straitly bid

Forbear to teach in this accurséd name?

And, lo, ye fill Jerusalem with bruit,

And seek to bring on us this person's blood!"—

While thus, sternly, he spoke, those simple men

Felt the heart fail within them and the tongue

Cleave to the mouth's dry roof. He ceasing, back

Their spirit came, and Spirit not their own,

The Holy Ghost of God, flooded their souls,

As when into a bay the ocean pours.

Then Peter and his brethren boldly spoke:

"Fathers and brethren, hearken to our words:

God needs must we, rather than men, obey.

That Jesus whom ye crucified and slew,

Him did the Lord God of our sires raise up,

And at His own right hand exalt to be

Both prince and saviour, to bestow on us

Repentance and forgiveness of our sins.

Of these things all we stand here witnesses;

Nor we alone, for with us witnesseth

God's Spirit bestowed on whoso Him obeys."

Something not earthly in those prisoners' mien

A tone of more than human in their words,

A majesty, as of omnipotence

Patient within them, ready to break forth,

But patient still, to brook how much was need—

So much, no more!—this awed one watchful heart

Prepared amid that council now to heed;

Gamaliel inly pondered, 'Is it God?'

The clear simplicity, the perfect faith,

The steady, prompt obedience, the serene

Courage that dared, without defying, all

The terrors brandished by the Sanhedrim—

This spirit, strange in those despiséd men,

As with a soft and subtle atmosphere

Enfolding and suffusing him, subdued

The solid temper of his mind, the strong

Set of his resolution grim relaxed,

Undid the hard contortions of his nerves,

And supple made the will so firm before.

His steadfast poise of confidence perturbed,

Gamaliel trembled with uncertainty.

Otherwise Saul; he, merged in different thought,

Eluded quite that penetrative spell.

Unconscious of the Holy Ghost, he strove

Blindly against Him, like the rest, though not

Yet, like the rest, with zeal of violence

To do the prisoners harm or shed their blood;

With such zeal not, but with ambitious pride

Of wisdom unawares puffed up to show

His prowess in the Scriptures, and to earn

A high degree surpassing all his peers.

His fellow-councillors concerting how

To quench this propagandist fire in blood,

Saul said within his heart:

'Nay, nay, instead,

Might I but once these bold presumers face

Amid the idling crowds they feed with lies,

How, from the law itself, whereof, untaught

Therein, they prate, would I, in open test

Of argument, confute them to their teeth!

Their own ill-wielded weapons from their hands

Seen wrenched and turned against them, surely then

Not only would these brawlers cease, but all

Would laud and magnify the glorious Word

Of God, thus shown, well wielded, capable

Of wreaking its own vengeance on its foes.'

These twain such counsel in their secret breast

Held diverse, while that strife of words went on.

Not what, in present need, behooved to do—

A full and fell accord conjoined them there!—

Was doubt or question to the Sanhedrim;

But in what chosen way their chosen goal,

The doom of death for those accurséd men,

With safe sure speed, most prudently, to reach—

This doubt embroiled a vehement debate.

One argued thus his sentence and advice—

Caiaphas he, high-priest that lately was,

Reputed statesman politic and wise:

"We are a subject nation; government

Is for this present slipped from out our hands.

Chafe how we may, how will it otherwise,

Ours is a state of vassalage to Rome.

Death in our hearts and death upon our tongues,

Denounced amain against our enemies,

Is futile—thunder bare of thunderbolt.

We make ourselves a laughter—unless we

Warp toward our end with wisdom; who is weak

Well needs be wise, to win—wisdom is power.

To kill and keep alive, by process due

Of law, no longer appertains to us,

That right being forfeit to our conqueror; this

Must we not let our honorable pride,

Justly indignant, and our holy zeal

Incensed for God, bribe us to blink. But slave,

If wise, may make a foolish master serve.

Break we proud Rome to do our task for us.

True triumph, when we wield the tyrant power

Itself of domination over us

A weapon in our hands to work our will!

"I counsel that we seek and find firm ground

Of mortal accusation, before those

Who rule us, against these audacious men,

As teachers of seditious doctrine meant

To undermine allegiance, and at length

Prompt insurrection and a state of war.

Rome then will stamp our troublers out of life,

And we, well rid of them without annoy,

Besides shall safely reap from her the praise,

Ill-merited, of fealty to her right—

Praise that sometime hereafter may be gain

Of vantage, if sometime hereafter come

Fit season to fling off her hated yoke."

Such words of weight spoke Caiaphas, and ceased

Those words, not idle, fell as falls the steel

Smiting the flint; a sparkle keen of fire

Flew forth, found tinder ready, and flashed up

In instant flame. A patriot malcontent,

Fiercely, irreconcilably, a Jew,

Was Mattathias; Mattathias said:

"Yoke by whom hated? Surely not by him

Who tamely brooks to talk of earning praise

For loyalty from Rome! Nor more by those

Who patient sit to hear such counsel broached!

Nay, men my brethren, that I did not hear!

Sure, son of Abraham never have I heard

Own himself slave, and meekly speak of Rome,

As of a master! This I will not hear!

I could not hear it! Speech of such a strain

Were like a river of molten metal poured

Red-hot into my ear to quench the sense!

Stone-deaf am I to craven treachery

From one of my own fellow-councillors here!

I only heard my brother say, 'Let us

Arise and stand for God!' Lo, I arise

And stand, with him, with all! There is a law,

Ancient and unrepealed, wholesome and good,

To stone for blasphemy. Blasphemers these,

What wait we? We have hands, and there are stones,

Let us this instant forth and stone them, stone

Unto the death!"

The clenched hands, and the fierce

Menace of husky tones, half-choked, and teeth

Gnashing, and brow braided with swollen knots,

Were more than words to speak the murderous will.

The prisoners listened with suspended breath;

They deemed a dreadful doom indeed was nigh.

Instinctive instant fear, forestalling faith,

With sudden loud alarum startled them,

And for one moment violently shook,

In them, all save the basis of the soul—

One moment—then they sped themselves with prayer,

Ran to the shelter of the promises,

And were at peace! In that secure retreat

Withdrawn, the secret place of the Most High,

The angel of the Lord encamping round,

Composédly at leisure they looked out

And saw the wicked plot against the just,

Vainly, and gnash upon him with his teeth!

Within their hearts they knew his day would come.

The speaker still stood leaning imminent,

His posture instigation, while a hiss

Of hot adhesion ran increasing round—

But skipped Gamaliel, skipped the musing Saul

With one beside, scarce daring to be dumb—

When, in his place, slowly, by soft degrees,

With furtive look and gesture, to his feet

Stealing, half stood, half crouched, a speaker new.

This was one Shimei, an abject man,

Abject in spirit, though in wit not dull,

And capable of long malevolence

Fed on resentments such as abjects feel.

Saul listened, but Gamaliel bowed in prayer,

As Shimei thus, obliquely, sneering, spoke:

"Stoning is pleasant, doubtless, when, as now,

One's sense of righteousness is much engaged.

The reflex satisfaction to be had

From accurately casting a choice stone

To break the teeth of the ungodly, is

Superlative, perhaps the very highest

Relish attainable to mortals here.

The consciousness of sympathy with God

Always exhilarates delightfully;

But in particular if the sympathy

Be exercised in such a case as this,

Where the most glorious of God's attributes,

His justice, is involved. Borne far above

Pity, or any weakness of the sense,

You only feel a rapture of divine

Approval of the law you execute.

So subtly strong and sweet possesses you

The instinct to indulge your appetite

For righteousness, you might almost mistake

Your pleasure for the pleasure of revenge.

"But let revenge be for the heathen, who

Know not Jehovah and His law contemn.

Jehovah's chosen we, our sentiment

Purged of all personal bias of mere hate,

We simply wash our feet in wicked blood

With pleasure—pleasure naturally enhanced,

If we have spilled said wicked blood ourselves.

"Yea, stoning gratifies the pious mind

Profoundly—grant the stoning be by you;

By you, not to you; being stoned, I judge,

Is less satisfactory. On this point who doubt

Or differ, have their opportunity

To clear their minds by prompt experiment—

They need but act upon the last advice;

For—grant our gracious masters smiled and pleased

To let us play a prank of self-misrule,

This once, wilful, but harmless, in their view,

Which might even turn out comedy for them—

Yet, stoning these, we should ourselves get stoned,

With expedition—past all chance of doubt.

Our friend, the vehement adviser here,

Might peradventure go himself as blithe

To be stoned by the people, as to stone

These pestilent fellows—for the glory of God.

But, then, more clearly how the glory of God

Would be subserved thereby, the rest of us,

Colder in heart perhaps, but certainly

Cooler in head, would wish to be advised,

Before we take our lives into our hands

To wreak the righteous judgment of the law

On favorites of a fierce and fickle mob

Whose palms, unless I much misread the signs,

Already itch for stones to throw at us,

While we sit here and talk of throwing stones

At whom they love and honor.

"Give them line

This wild Jerusalem mob, and they will change

Their mood. Remember how it chanced but late

With Jesus Nazarene. Hailed yesterday

Messiah, King of kings and Lord of lords,

Ovation of hosannas greeting him

From thousand times a thousand throats—to-day,

A malefactor hooted through the streets,

With 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' cried

In multitudinous chorus like one voice—

The mouths to-day and yesterday the same.

Their second tune indeed we set for them

And sang precentors—but how well they joined!

In due time pitch them the like tune again,

And doubt not they will sing it with full breath.

"Not that I hence advise to wait remiss;

My counsel is no less from sloth removed

Than hostile to crude, hasty violence.

Only, shun public note; with proper quest,

Ways may be found, ways pregnant too, that make

No noise. The nail that went so shrewdly through

Sisera's temples made no noise. It sped

Softly, but sped surely, and found the quick

Secret of life. Are there not Jaels yet?

You have guessed what I advise. The end you seek

Is holy; holy hold whatever means

Shall lead thereto. Let us commit this thing

To those the wisest found among us, few

Better than many, charging them to choose

Some suitable silent means of silencing

These praters, without stir or scandal made,

Likest the ways of nature, hint, perhaps,

Conveyed of overruling providence

At work through nature for revenging crime.

"For me, I seek no honor at your hands:

I do not court responsibility;

I am least wise among you; yet a trust

Imposed were duty sacred in mine eyes."

As, should along a living bosom warm

With youthful life-blood coursing joyously,

A deadly serpent, with protracted, cold

Belly incumbent, glide, beneath that touch

And creep the conscious flesh would creeping shrink,

And all the genial current in the veins

Curdle; so now, at Shimei's words, much more

At signs in him that spoke beyond his words,

The accent of the voice, the look, the port

Of figure, sinister suggestion couched

In action or grimace, there came a chill,

A shudder, of reaction and collapse

Over the council late with zeal aglow.

Even Mattathias, who, in attitude

Of menace, after Shimei arose,

Some space still stood—he, too, while Shimei

Was speaking, felt the evil spell and sank

Into his seat. With one accord they all,

When Shimei ceased, a gloomy silence kept.

Gamaliel did not lift his head, but groaned

Audibly now, though gently, in his prayer.

From such a source such sound made seem yet more

Ominous the spell which hushed that council-hall.