The time's more precious, sire, than you suppose. Whilst hesitating here to answer me, Mathan, beside the queen, indignant flaming, Demands the signal, panting for the carnage. Must I entreat you at your sacred feet, By the place saintly, closed to all but you, Dread place, where dwells the majesty of God? However hard the task on you imposed, We must but think of warding off the blow. O give me only time to breathe--to-morrow, This very night, I will arrange the means To save the temple and avenge its wrongs. But ah! I see my tears and vain discourse Are arguments too frail to change your mind: Your austere virtue will not be subdued. Well! bring me then my armour, and a sword, That at the portals of the temple, where The foe awaits me, Abner, at the least, May die in combat {JOAD.} I yield. You give advice which I embrace: Let us avert so many threatening ills. 'Tis true there is a treasure left by David; To my fidelity the charge was given: It was the melancholy Jews' last hope, Which from the light my vigilance concealed: But since we _must_ expose it to our queen, I'm going to please her. Open wide our gates! Let her, accompanied by her bravest chiefs, Advance, but from our sacred altars, let Her hold at distance the unreasoning fury Of herds of strangers, and protect me from The horror of the pillage of the temple. Would a few priests and children rouse suspicion? With her arrange the number of her suite. As to that child, so feared, so terrible-- Abner, I know the justness of your heart-- I will explain his birth before you both: You'll hear if we should place him in her power, And you shall judge 'twixt him and Athaliah. {ABNER.} Ah! now, I take him under my protection. Fear nothing, I return to her who sent me. _Scene III._ {JOAD, JOSABET, ZACHARIAH, SALOMITH, ISHMAEL, TWO LEVITES, THE CHOIR.} {JOAD.} Great God! Thy hour is come, they bring Thy prey! Ishmael, listen. (_Speaks low to him._) {JOSABET.} Mighty Master of the heavens! Re-bind on her the veil which wrapt her eyes, When rendering all her crimes abortive, Thou Conceal'dst that tender victim in my bosom! {JOAD.} Go, prudent Ishmael, lose not any time, Follow my grave instructions, step by step; And, above all, let everything present To her, upon her entry and her way, The picture of a calm profound. You, children, Prepare a throne for Joas. Let him advance, Accompanied by our sacred combatants; And also cause his faithful nurse to come, Princess, and let your tears cease flowing. _(To a Levite.)_