fetch it later when this noise is past.--
Where is the door? How shall I save my soul?

ESTHER _enters from the door at the left._

ISAAC. Who's there? Woe's me!

ESTHER. Is't thou?

ISAAC. Is't thou, then, Rachel?

ESTHER. What mean'st thou? Rachel? Only Esther, I!

ISAAC. Only, thou say'st? Thou art my only child--
Only, because the best.

ESTHER. Nay, rather say,
The best because the only. Aged man,
Dost thou, then, nothing know of this attack,
Nor upon whom they meant to vent their wrath?

ISAAC. I do not know, nor do I wish to know,
For has not Rachel flown, to safety gone?
Oh, she is clever, she!--God of my fathers!
Why dost thou try me--me, a poor old man,
And speak to me from out my children's mouths?
But I believe it not! 'Tis false! No, no!

[_He sinks down beside the chair in the centre, leaning his head against
it._]

ESTHER. So then be strong through coward fearsomeness.
Yet call I others what I was myself.
For when their coming roused me from my sleep,
And I went hurrying to my sister's aid,
Into the last, remote, and inmost room,
One of them seizes me with powerful hand,
And hurls me to the ground. And coward, I,
I fall a-swooning, when I should have stood
And offered up my life to save my sister,
Or, at the very least, have died with her!
When I awoke, the deed was done, and vain
My wild attempt to bring her back to life.
Then could I weep, then could I tear my hair;
That is, indeed, true cowardice, a woman's.

ISAAC. They tell me this and that. But 'tis not true!

ESTHER. Lend me thy chair to sit upon, old man!

[_She pulls the chair forward._]

My limbs grow weak and tremble under me.
Here will I sit and here will I keep watch.

[_She sits down._]

Mayhap that one will think it worth his while
To burn the stubble, now the harvest's o'er,
And will return and kill what still is left.

ISAAC (_from the floor_).

Not me! Not me!--Some one is coming. Hark!
No, many come!--Save me