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SCENE FIVE
The small bed-chamber where JEREMIAH'S MOTHER lies ill. Doorways and windows are covered with curtains to exclude light and sound. The interior is so dark that the figures of those in the chamber are barely visible. The white bed-furniture is conspicuous in the gloom. Close to the bed stands AHAB, the elderly servingman.
JOCHEBED
[A female relative, coming from without, cautiously draws aside the curtain over the doorway] Ahab!
AHAB
Speak low! Tread softly! Her sleep is light as thistle-down. A breath will scatter it.
JOCHEBED
Well for one who can still sleep, when the gates of the city are being a.s.sailed.
AHAB
Not a word of the matter. Not a word of the enemy. As you love her, spare her.
JOCHEBED
What do you mean? What must I not speak of?
AHAB
Not a word of our troubles. She knows naught of Jerusalem's evil plight.
JOCHEBED
I don't understand. She does not know that the town is besieged?
AHAB
Why should we tell her what is impending? The very thought would kill her.
JOCHEBED
[Greatly astonished] She does not know that Ashur is upon us? Is there still a living being within the walls who remains ignorant of our misery? How has this miracle been wrought? Are her senses closed? Is she deaf to the hosannas? Does she think we are at peace when the battering rams thunder against the walls?
AHAB
Her senses are dulled. Such noises as she hears seem the noises of a dream. I have closed the entries, shutting out sound and light.
JOCHEBED
She knows nothing? Wonderful, and yet horrible. Has she no suspicion?
AHAB
At times she has suspected, but I have been able to calm her fears.
Yesterday, when the first rams were at work, she was alarmed by the cries of the populace. Throwing off the coverlet, she wrung her hands, and declared she must forth to the walls, that war had come, that the enemy was in the city, that Zion was peris.h.i.+ng. Her son's prophecy was being fulfilled, the king of the north had come. She struggled to her feet. Then her knees gave way beneath her. I caught her as she fell, bore her back to bed, and persuaded her that it was all a dream, that the shouting and the hosannas were but the illusion of fever. She seemed to believe me, lying with open eyes, and listening to the m.u.f.fled clamor from the street.
JOCHEBED
'Tis wondrous strange. But what has thus confused her?
AHAB
In her sickness she craves for her son.
JOCHEBED
Jeremiah, the madman! The zealot of the streets. She herself drove him from the house.
AHAB
Not for an hour since has she known happiness. She sat ever in silence, or stood at the door like one awaiting a guest. When he failed to return, her mind gradually became confused.
JOCHEBED
Why then comes he not, the reprobate, that he may restore her to health?
He tramps the streets spewing curses among the people, while his mother is dying for lack of him. Why comes he not, chatterer in the market, slayer of peace?
AHAB
He knows naught of her longing. No less proud is he than she, and he will never cross the threshold until he is summoned.
JOCHEBED
Summon him then.
AHAB
How dare I without her command? I am but a servingman. How can I act upon words which she mutters unwitting?
JOCHEBED
You may and you must, since her life is at stake.
AHAB
Do you believe I should do rightly to summon Jeremiah without awaiting her command?
JOCHEBED
