O force me not to leave thee. My parent’s happiness is full without me. Propitious fortune with a lavish hand, scatters her stores of wealth and greatness on them. The joyous sun to them shines ever bright. The feast, the dance, the charms of sweetest music, beguile each care and open every sense to laughing pleasure, and her dangerous wiles. Meantime their gallant sons, and beautious daughters in the gay festive train compleat their joys. I love my parents with a daughters fondness; and gratitude recalls my helpless years, watched by their tenderness; their fostering care, rear’d my young frame; adorn’d my riper years with useful knowledge; guarded my steps from each contagious folly. But ’twas thou my second parent, who taught my mind the exalted charms of virtue;—freed my young soul from vain delusive worship of idol Gods; feared in my native land, and bade my hopes aspire, to serve that Being who fills creation with his boundless presence. And may his vengeance strike my guilty head, when I forsake thee: Poor—friendless—stricken through with grief and years. No. I will follow thee where’er thou goest; my hands shall learn to toil for thee my mother. Industry is the surest balm for grief. Thy God is mine. Thy people I will love. One house shall hold us and one grave contain. NAOMI. O thou who viewest the smallest atom of thy vast creation; notest the most trivial act of little man! If I have e’er deserved a boon of thee, O! give it me in blessings on this child. Oh! may her virtues meet their full reward, and I can ask no more. _Scene draws._ _Land of Israel._ NAOMI: RUTH: _a group of young maidens_. RUTH. How blithsome seems yon troop of beautious maidens! What healthful pleasure lights each face with smiles! See: they advance. SECOND LADY _to her companions_. Pray who are those clad in a garb of sorrow? Could I believe my senses! ’tis Naomi, so justly famed for wisdom, truth and goodness, Elimelek’s wife. FIRST LADY. Can—can this be Naomi? Yes it must be her. But say? what sad reverse of fortune brought thee here? alone, and bearing marks of wretchedness? If thou art indeed Naomi, pray inform me. NAOMI. Yes ’tis she who once was justly called Naomi. The apparent favorite of indulgent Heaven; but now—a hapless widow, doomed to mourn, the untimely fate of all her dearest friends. Then let Naomi perish with her fortunes, and henceforth call this wretched being Masa; for Heaven has dealt the cup of sorrow to me, and I have drank its deep, its bitter dregs. FIRST LADY.