--Who art thou
That comest here in this mysterious guise
Into our camp unheralded?
That comest here in this mysterious guise
Into our camp unheralded?
Longfellow
'T is not enough to mourn. Breastplate and harness
Are better things than sackcloth. Let the women
Lament for Israel; the men should die.
FUGITIVES.
Both men and women die; old men and young:
Old Eleazer died: and Mahala
With all her Seven Sons.
JUDAS.
Antiochus,
At every step thou takest there is left
A bloody footprint in the street, by which
The avenging wrath of God will track thee out!
It is enough. Go to the sutler's tents;
Those of you who are men, put on such armor
As ye may find; those of you who are women,
Buckle that armor on; and for a watchword
Whisper, or cry aloud, "The Help of God. "
SCENE III. -- JUDAS MACCABAEUS; NICANOR.
NICANOR.
Hail, Judas Maccabaeus!
JUDAS.
Hail!
--Who art thou
That comest here in this mysterious guise
Into our camp unheralded?
NICANOR.
A herald
Sent from Nicanor.
JUDAS.
Heralds come not thus.
Armed with thy shirt of mail from head to heel,
Thou glidest like a serpent silently
Into my presence. Wherefore dost thou turn
Thy face from me? A herald speaks his errand
With forehead unabashed. Thou art a spy sent by Nicanor.
NICANOR.
No disguise avails!
Behold my face; I am Nicanor's self.
JUDAS.
Thou art indeed Nicanor. I salute thee.
What brings thee hither to this hostile camp
Thus unattended?