Naomi : $b or the last days of JerusalemWebb, J. B., Mrs. (Annie)
History
Naomi : $b or the last days of Jerusalem
Webb, J. B., Mrs. (Annie)
Historical fiction; Jerusalem -- History -- Siege, 70 A.D. -- Fiction; Sieges -- Fiction
A smile of pure benevolence and holy joy lighted up her countenance,
and then faded away like the last rays of the setting sun on the cold
surface of a wreath of snow. All was still--and friends and foes
forgot for a moment all other feelings, in the contemplation of the
awful change. Death looked beautiful on her placid features, which
were as calm as those of a sleeping infant.
"She is not dead, but sleepeth," said Amaziah, in tone of deep
solemnity. "May we die the death of the righteous, and may our last
end be like hers!"
The evil intentions of the ruffian band had been checked, but not
destroyed. The wonder and awe which had held them motionless had
passed away; and again they grasped their weapons, and looked for
orders towards their leaders. These were two powerful-looking men,
in complete disguise, their faces being entirely concealed, and
themselves clothed in an uncouth and foreign garb. They had not
entered the apartment at the same time with their attendants, but
remained at the entrance in conflict with some of Amaziah's servants,
whom they succeeded in disarming, and then joined the rest of their
band, as their intended victim uttered her last words of pious
intercession.
One of these strangers turned away, and his manly form trembled for a
moment with emotions that he sought to suppress; but the other called
to his men in a stern voice to do their errand, and not be affrighted
from their duty to God and man by the corpse of an accursed Nazarene.
The impious appellation seemed to recall his comrade from his
momentary weakness, and he rushed forward towards Theophilus with his
sword uplifted, and already stained with blood from the conflict
which had preceded his entrance. Claudia saw the fierce advance, and
knew that it could be no other than Javan, who thus singled out her
beloved Theophilus as the object of his rage. She forgot all other
feelings in terror for the safety of him she loved, and springing
forward, she placed herself before him, and cried:
"Javan, if blood be your object, shed mine: I am a Roman maid, allied
to your bitterest enemies. But seek not to take the life of your
countryman, your relative, and the ornament of your house."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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