Swift are the blessed
Immortals
to the mortal
That perseveres!
That perseveres!
Longfellow
Thou art his disciple,
But we are disciples of Moses; and we know
That God spake unto Moses; but this fellow,
We know not whence he is!
THE BEGGAR.
Why, herein is
A marvellous thing! Ye know not whence he is,
Yet he hath opened mine eyes! We know that God
Heareth not sinners; but if any man
Doeth God's will, and is his worshipper,
Him doth he hear. Oh, since the world began
It was not heard that any man hath opened
The eyes of one that was born blind. If He
Were not of God, surely he could do nothing!
PHARISEES.
Thou, who wast altogether born in sins
And in iniquities, dost thou teach us?
Away with thee out of the holy places,
Thou reprobate, thou beggar, thou blasphemer!
THE BEGGAR is cast out.
XI
SIMON MAGUS AND HELEN OF TYRE
On the house-top at Endor. Night. A lighted lantern on a table.
SIMON.
Swift are the blessed Immortals to the mortal
That perseveres! So doth it stand recorded
In the divine Chaldaean Oracles
Of Zoroaster, once Ezekiel's slave,
Who in his native East betook himself
To lonely meditation, and the writing
On the dried skins of oxen the Twelve Books
Of the Avesta and the Oracles!
Therefore I persevere; and I have brought thee
From the great city of Tyre, where men deride
The things they comprehend not, to this plain
Of Esdraelon, in the Hebrew tongue
Called Armageddon, and this town of Endor,
Where men believe; where all the air is full
Of marvellous traditions, and the Enchantress
That summoned up the ghost of Samuel
Is still remembered. Thou hast seen the land;
Is it not fair to look on?
HELEN.
It is fair,
Yet not so fair as Tyre.
SIMON.
Is not Mount Tabor
As beautiful as Carmel by the Sea?
HELEN.
It is too silent and too solitary;
I miss the tumult of the street; the sounds
Of traffic, and the going to and fro
Of people in gay attire, with cloaks of purple,
And gold and silver jewelry!
SIMON.
Inventions
Of Abriman, the spirit of the dark,
The Evil Spirit!
HELEN.
I regret the gossip
Of friends and neighbors at the open door
On summer nights.
SIMON.
An idle waste of time.
But we are disciples of Moses; and we know
That God spake unto Moses; but this fellow,
We know not whence he is!
THE BEGGAR.
Why, herein is
A marvellous thing! Ye know not whence he is,
Yet he hath opened mine eyes! We know that God
Heareth not sinners; but if any man
Doeth God's will, and is his worshipper,
Him doth he hear. Oh, since the world began
It was not heard that any man hath opened
The eyes of one that was born blind. If He
Were not of God, surely he could do nothing!
PHARISEES.
Thou, who wast altogether born in sins
And in iniquities, dost thou teach us?
Away with thee out of the holy places,
Thou reprobate, thou beggar, thou blasphemer!
THE BEGGAR is cast out.
XI
SIMON MAGUS AND HELEN OF TYRE
On the house-top at Endor. Night. A lighted lantern on a table.
SIMON.
Swift are the blessed Immortals to the mortal
That perseveres! So doth it stand recorded
In the divine Chaldaean Oracles
Of Zoroaster, once Ezekiel's slave,
Who in his native East betook himself
To lonely meditation, and the writing
On the dried skins of oxen the Twelve Books
Of the Avesta and the Oracles!
Therefore I persevere; and I have brought thee
From the great city of Tyre, where men deride
The things they comprehend not, to this plain
Of Esdraelon, in the Hebrew tongue
Called Armageddon, and this town of Endor,
Where men believe; where all the air is full
Of marvellous traditions, and the Enchantress
That summoned up the ghost of Samuel
Is still remembered. Thou hast seen the land;
Is it not fair to look on?
HELEN.
It is fair,
Yet not so fair as Tyre.
SIMON.
Is not Mount Tabor
As beautiful as Carmel by the Sea?
HELEN.
It is too silent and too solitary;
I miss the tumult of the street; the sounds
Of traffic, and the going to and fro
Of people in gay attire, with cloaks of purple,
And gold and silver jewelry!
SIMON.
Inventions
Of Abriman, the spirit of the dark,
The Evil Spirit!
HELEN.
I regret the gossip
Of friends and neighbors at the open door
On summer nights.
SIMON.
An idle waste of time.
