_Scene VII_ {JOAS, JOSABET, ATHALIAH, ZACHARIAH, ABNER, SALOMITH, TWO LEVITES, THE CHOIR, SUITE OF ATHALIAH.} {JOSABET (_to the two Levites_).} You, servants of the Lord, upon those children So dear, so precious, keep a fixed regard. {ABNER (_to Josabet_).} Princess, have courage, they are in my care. {ATHALIAH.} O heaven! the more I look at him, the more I scrutinize--'Tis he! my faculties Again are seized with horror! Josabet Is that your son? {JOSABET.} Who, he, Madam? {ATHALIAH.} He. {JOSABET.} His mother I am not. This is my son. {ATHALIAH (_to Joas_.)} And you, my boy, who _is_ your father then? Come child reply. {JOSABET.} Heaven till to-day-- {ATHALIAH.} Why do you hurry to reply for him? {JOSABET.} From such a tender age can you expect Much information? {ATHALIAH.} That age is artless, its ingenuousness Does not as yet pervert the simple truth. Let him explain the whole concerning him. {JOSABET.} Great God, O place Thy wisdom in his mouth! {ATHALIAH.} What is your name? {JOAS.} Eliacin. They say I am an orphan, Cast from my birth into the arms of God, And who my parents were I never knew. {ATHALIAH.} Have you no parents? {JOAS.} They abandoned me. {ATHALIAH.} How? And how long ago? {JOAS.} At my birth. {ATHALIAH.} Do they, at least, not know your native country? {JOAS.} This temple is my country; none I know Besides-- {ATHALIAH.} Your father? Where is it said that chance discovered you? {JOAS.} Among the cruel wolves, their helpless prey. {ATHALIAH.} Who placed you in this temple? {JOAS.} An unknown woman, never looked on since, Who did not say her name. {ATHALIAH.} But who took charge of your most early years? {JOAS.} Does God e'er let his children want in vain? He gives the smallest birds their nourishment, And over all His works extends His goodness. Each day I call on Him. His care paternal Nourishes me with gifts presented at The altar. {ATHALIAH.} What strange event again perplexeth me? The sweetness of his voice, his youthful grace, Cause my aversion imperceptably To be succeeded--I could be inclined To pity. {ABNER.} Is this, then, Madam, that terrific foe '? The fraud of your false dreams is manifest: Unless 'tis sympathy that touches you, It is that fatal blow which makes you tremble. {ATHALIAH (_to Joas and Josabet_).} Are you going? {JOSABET.} His story you have heard: His further stay would be importunate. {ATHALIAH.} No, No, return. What do you every day? {JOAS.}