PS 635 ^7 .Z9 B47 ^ I Copy 1 A BIBLICAL DRAMA BENNETT A BIBLICAL DRAMA B Y CLARA MARION BENNETT, A. B. Press of The Rowland Printing Company Emporia, Kansas U6fiARY of congress] Two Copies Received .NOV 29 i907 ////a COPY B. f 3J~ ^ ^7 Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1907, by Clara Marion Bennett in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. TMP92-008666 PREFACE /TTHE opening act of this play was awarded first place in a contest open to the members of the higher English com- position class in the College of Emporia. Later it was com- pleted and prepared for publication, with full direction for stage management added. It is hoped it will prove interest- ing as reading, and when staged will inspire a greater interest in the beautiful stories of the Bible. Clara Marion Bennett. Emporia, Kansas. ROYALTY. This drama is issued under copyright by Clara Marion Bennett, and may not be staged except by arrangement with the author. The Gooi3 Samaritan: A BIBLICAL DRAMA Based upon Luke X : 30-35. Dramatia Personae. Joseph The Good Samaritan. Isaac A Merchant of Jerusalem Simon A Friend of Isaac's. Reuben Joseph's Elder Brother. Abner A Priest of the Temple. Nathan A Levite. Benjamin . An Innkeeper. Peter Isaac's Servant Boy. Marah The Wife of Isaac. Leah The Dauijhter of Isaac. Rebecca A Hand Maiden. Robber Chief and Several Robbers. Jews, Syrians, Romans, etc., in market scene. Time — During the ministry of Christ. Act I. Act II. Act III. Synopsis ' A room in Isaac's house. Evening. Scene 1. A rocky pass, five miles from Jerusalem. About noon next day. Scene 2. A room in an inn. Early the next morn- ing after Scene 1. Scene 1. The market place, within the Jaffa Gate. Same day as Scene 2, Act II. Scene 2. A room in Isaac's house. Same day. THE GOOD SAMARITAN: A BIBLICAL DRAMA. ACT I— Scene 1. A room in Isaac's house. There is a latticed window back center, and one in left wall. Doors at right and left of window in back; one in right wall also. The floor is covered with rugs; cushions and stools placed near the walls. Several large candlesticks and two tables are seen in the room. Marah and Leah, in tunic, cloak and girdle, but with veil thrown back, are seated on stools near center, sewing richly-colored curtains. At rise of curtain, Marah and Leah are discovered singing, either a few stanzas of a well known hymn or a metrical version of some psalm. Marah. Leah, my daughter, thou must sing that song for thy father when he comcth from his business. Leah. Thou knowest, mother, that my voice hath little music in it. Mar. Nay, child, thy voice is ever sweet music to thy father's ear, for thou art his dearest earthly treasure. Le. I knew not that he loved me so; he is ever stern and cold. Mar. 'Tis but his manner. Thou art our only child, and the duty of training thee sitteth heavily upon him. Le, Ah, mother, if my father holdeth me so dear, why hath he bidden me to accept Jacob? For Jacob is old, and hath a nature that few could love. 8 THE GOOD SAMARITAN Mar. Thou art of age to be married, and thy father is old and wisheth to get thee settled. Jacob hath ample means and a house of exceeding comfort here in Jerusalem. Le. But, mother, I like him not; and I need not marry him if I do not wish. Mar. But thy father's wish should be thy law. Obey him in all things, and thy future years shall be v/ithout regret. Le. How can I think of Jacob, when my heart is given to Joseph? Mar, Think no more of Joseph, for thy heart will be torn for naught. Le. Mother, thinkest thou that aught will change my father to look with favor upon Joseph? He is a good youth, and were he not of Samaria he would be bidden to the house. Mar. Nay, daughter; thy father is bitter toward all Sama- ritans. They be apart from us and we may have no inter- course w^ith them. Le. Biit Joseph surely differeth from others; he hath a noble air. Mar. Yea, he seemeth a good youth. Le. {clasping her mother's hands). Ah, mother, thou hast a tender heart, and I dare unfold a plan to thee. On the mor- row, when my father setteth forth for Jericho, may I not send Rebecca to the market-place with a message? A kinsman of Joseph's selieih silken stuffs there, and mayhap he can get word to Joseph. Ah, it is bitter to— THE GOOD SAMARITAN 9 (Enter Isaac, hurriedly, R. c.) Isaac. Marah, my plans have fallen ill. My new servant- boy, Peter, did overhear my words to friend Simon this morn- ing, as I made know^n to him that I purposed to ride to Jeri- cho with jewels for the merchants there. Soon after, Peter w^ent out by a rear door, and friend Simon sav/ him in deep converse w^ith a stranger of evil appearance. Le. Oh, father, thou wilt not attempt this perilous journey. Is, Yea, I will go; my word is given to the merchants of Jericho. Friend Simon counseleth that I go as a beggar, with my jewels concealed in a sheepskin bag. 'Tis shrewd advice, and I shall follow it. Mar. But, Isaac, can'st thou trust Simon with all thy busi- ness affairs? Methinks he hath a crafty look, and he always — Is. Nay, he is most trustworthy. My affairs have I given in charge to him till I come hither again. Bid Rebecca come to me. (Leah strikes a silver gong on a small table by her side. Enter Rebecca, l.) Is. Rebecca, hast made all preparations for my journey on the morro%\r? Rebecca. I am even now sewing thy riding-cloak. Is. 'Tis well; continue thy preparations, I have changed my plan, but I would not it were known to other of the household. Prepare sufficient food for my journey and pro- cure a pair of heavy sandals. 10 THE GOOD SAMARITAN (A smothered laugh is heard from the courtyard below.) Is. Ha! Who was that? 'Tis strange! All the servants should be at their evening tasks. (Rebecca ^oes to the window at the rear.) Re. {looking cautiously down info the courtyard). It is thy friend Simon, talking to thy servant Peter. Le. Ah, father, it bodeth ill when — Is. Peace! He is my trusted friend. Mayhap he giveth orders to Peter, for I have given him command over all my servants. Re. {still standing beside the window). Peter laugheth with delight and thy friend giveth him a piece of money. Be v are. Is, {impatiently). "Woman, hold thy tongue. It becometh thee not to babble of things above thy knowledge. Go to thy duties. {Exit Rebecca, l.) Mar. Isaac, it liketh me not, the look of this journey. Such jewels as thine are known to be would tempt many to robbery; if need were, to murder. Take with thee sevei-al trusty servants, if the journey must needs be made; but go thou not alone. Is. Nay, nay, Marah. These robbers, of whom much talk hath been of late, plunder in bands of ten or twelve. They hide in the rocky fastnesses and fall upon any that look to be prosperous. Him that appeareth with a guard they straight- way suspect; but a solitary beggar scarcely will they molest. THE GOOD SAMARITAN 11 Mar. Mayhap, 'tis so; but my heart misgivcth mc. Is. Daughter, would'st thou look upon my jewels? Some arc sold already to wealthy men at Jericho. {He opens his leathern jewel-case.) Le. {uttering a cry of delight). Oh, father, this heavy brace- let of curious workmanship, how would I it were mine! Is. {looking at her slyly). My good friend Jacob hath pur- chased one like unto this; I know not but that thou shalt receive it shortly. Le. {turning coldly away). Nay, 'tis not so beautiful as I thought. Methinks the design is too gorgeous, and the clasp is most clumsy. Is. It is not meet for a daughter to scorn the offer of a father's friend. Thy mother hath told thee, hath she not? Le. Yea, father, she hath told me. Thou knowest that I have been an obedient daughter; but force me not to marry this man. Is. Enough. Thinkcst thou I know not what hath caused thy distaste for Jacob? Have I not seen that white-faced youth, that dog of Samaria, holding converse with thee in my courtyard? I have bidden the servants drive him hence if again he ventures hither. When I come from Jericho, preparations for thy marriage with Jacob shall be toward, and I will brook no disobedience on thy part. I have spoken. And now to bed, for I must hence early on the morrow. CURTAIN. 12 THE GOOD SAMARITAN ACT II— Scene 1. A rocky pass on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, The path is back about six feet from front of stage, and three feet higher than floor of stage. This allows space in front of pass (next to audience) to be used as a diich. The elevation can be constructed easily, covered to look like a barren road, with artificial rocks disjiosed in places. The path slants upward from right to left, Jerusalem being situated on higher ground than Jericho. This spot is about five miles from Jerusalem. In the foreground (in the ditch) the robber chief, Malachi, sits cross-legged, counting money. He is a large man, of ferocious aspect; his head is bandaged, and his clothing is torn and dirty. Malachi {taking coins out of a silver vase and putting them in a leathern girdle). One, two, three, four, {continues counting and mumbling). Aba! fifty shekels more to add to the two hundred in my girdle. 'Tis well my conscience hurteth me not, for I can rob Jew or Gentile; nor doth it pain me to make choice between them. 'Tv/ill grieve the priests of J.l'u- salem to miss their golden shekels, but 'twill do them small good to mourn. {Pats his belt gloatingly. Enter a robber from R., with bag of money.) RoBBEF. Micah hath plundered a company of rich Gen- tiles, and sendeth the money by me. Mal. Why Cometh he not hither? Ro3, He and his few followers v/ere beset by the mer- chants and wounded sore. Even now he bideth yonder, being attended for a grievous v/ound upon his head. Mal. 'Tis well. Bring the others hither. {Exit robber, e,) I must needs be cautious w^ith my band, lest they suspect how great treasure I have taken to myself alone. {A shrill whistle, R,) They come. I must hasten. {He slips several large coins THE GOOD SAMARITAN 13 inio folds of his clothes, and fastens on hts girdle.) There, 'tis but little more than my due. {Another whistle, r., closer.) Come! {Enter five disreputable- looking robbers.) First Rob. 'Tis yet early in the morning. Why hast thou called us? Mal, To reason of our work. This our labor prospercth us nothing, for it hath been tv/o days since we have made aught of gain upon this highway. Second Rob. Of a truth, 'tis so. But on the morrow come the wine merchants from Jericho, with empty wine-skins but full purses. Then — {looks longingly up the road.) Third Rob. {who has clambered up to the roadway and looks to L.) Ho! comrades, methinks I see a lone traveler in the dis- tance. {After a pause.) Nay, his coming profiteth us not, for he is a beggar. He limpeth, and is clad in veriest rags. {Enter Micah bandaged, drawing the servant-boy, Peter, after him by the eaf.) Mal. What hast thou there, Micah? Mic. This fellow ran to me but now, demanding to have speech with Malachi. Mal. What meanest thou, fellow? Peter {whimpering). 'Twas Simon, the money-changer, that sent me. I came not sooner because I was stoned by a swineherd. He stuck out his tongue at me, and when I struck him he picked up — 14 THE GOOD SAMARITAN Mal. {impatiently). Cease! Care I to hear thy petty hurts? What saith Simon? Pet. He bade me tell thee that this very day my master, Isaac, the jewel-merchant, journeyeth alone to Jericho, with a packet of rich gems. Mal. Alone! Would'st thou have us to believe that a jewel- merchant traveleth alone? Pet. Nay, but 'tis true; he traveleth so to turn away suspicion. Mal, (aside.) Aha! choice gems for the wealthy of Jericho; and Simon expecteth, as ever, of late, a third part of the spoil. {Aloud.) Knoweth Simon the contents of the packet? Pet. Yea, he bade me tell thee that he knoweth the w^orth of every piece. Mal. So, Simon, thou art crafty ever. {To Peter.) "When doth thy master come? Pet. He should be here anon. {Looks up, l.) He cometh. Alas, what have I done? I would not see him wounded. {Pulls away from Micah and starts to run, L. Robbers seize him and pull him back to R.) Mal. Let him go by a side path; he can do no harm. (Peter runs off, R.) Methinks this is some trick. Yonder traveler scemeth in very sooth to be a beggar. {Pointing up, l.) How- beit, Simon hath ever told me true, though he hath an exceeding covetous nature and ever demandeth more than his share. THE GOOD SAMARITAN 15 Mic. Shall we not rob him, then? Mal. Yea, it hurteth not. Follow me. {TAey creep toward right of stage and hide behind rocks. Isaac comes on slotvly from the lefty on the high path. He limps along zvith the aid of a staff. When a little past the center ^ near the rights he is attacked by the robber s., xvho pull him into the ditch and beat him. They take hts cloak and bag of jevjels leaving him insensible in the ditch. Exeunt robbers^ R After a moment the priest. Abner, enters at l., attired in rich vestments. His hands are folded and his eyes are raised toward heaven.^ Abner {speaking unciiously). Yea, verily, Jehovah hath prospered his chosen people. Many new faces did I see at the temple today, and methinks the people did look w^ith wonder upon the robes of the priests. {Looks toward back of stage.) Just tw^o more miles by yonder side path to the country home of Jabez, and then a good meal and rich wine for my trouble. Friend Jabez w^axeth rich with his numer- ous herds and extensive vineyards. He thinketh overmuch of worldly gain. I must chide him gently; yea, very gently, lest he — (Isaac feebly moans, "Help! Help/") Ab. {looking down). Ah, what have we here? An old man wounded by robbers. Alas ! I would I could aid him; but he is clothed in rags and filth, and my robe is new and unsoiled. Doubtless another traveler will pass by and relieve him. 16 THE GOOD SAMARITAN {Looks complacently at his shining robe and hurries on to R., muttering.) Sad, very sad indeed. {Exit, r.) {After a moment, enter a Levite, Nathan, cautiously from L.; looks after priest.) Nathan, I would not that Abner saw me, for I should be in the city now. 'Tis but a small way further, and I would see Dorcas before the morrow. She shall make plain to me about those unripe olives, for hardly shall my sister be coz- ened by a country woman. (Isaac calls faintly. Nathan starts and exclaims.) 'Tis a thief ! (Looking down.) Nay, 'tis but a wounded beggar. I would I could help him, but I must not tarry; it were not safe with thieves so near. Mayhap another will pass by and aid him. (Passes rapidly out at R.) (Commotion at R. A voice is heard speaking soothingly to some animal. Joseph appears at R.; looks hack and speaks.) Joseph. Rest a few moments, good beast; we arc both in need of refreshment. (He seats himself on a stone near right entrance, and takes a drink from a skin of water.) 'Tis but five miles further to Jerusalem, and my brother needeth not this bundle of silks until the morrow. (Musing.) Jerusalem — and Leah. Dare I speak the loved name aloud? Dare I draw nigh her dwelling and look upon her sweet face again? Nay, it were not meet that I should think to do it. Her father holdeth me in scorn; and as for my wooing of his daughter— THE GOOD SAMARITAN 17 am I not a Samaritan? {Sighs.) Could I but see him — but he never dealeth with me, for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans. Ah, the injustice of it, {Meditates, leaning against a rock, with his face turned toward the sky.) "As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them like- wise." Ail this day have those words haunted me. How came I to think of them? {Suddenly starting.) Now, I bethink me. 'Twas as I journeyed far from home, near Capernaum, I did pass near a mount whereon a multitude was gathered, and a young man, a new prophet, they said, did preach. But those few words did come to mine ear as I passed by. A gentle face had that prophet, full of unearthly love and — but stay, his name — 'twas Jesus of Nazareth. Though he be the son of a carpenter, yet claimeth he to be the Messiah. Methinks he preacheth nigh this place even now. My brother hath heard of many miracles that he hath wrought. And what manner of rule for life is that — "As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise?" May strength be mine to follow it always, even in the hour of greatest temp- tation. {Lifting his arms.) O thou Great Jehovah, who look- est down upon the children of men, help the Samaritan. Many are the sneers, much the reviling, that we have to bear. If Jesus of Nazareth be indeed thy Son, send him. Father, to Samaria, that my people may believe on him. {Slowly drops his arms and sees Isaac for the first time.) Ah, 'tis a poor old beggar, soi'ely wounded. Happy the hand that led me hither, for I will succor him. (Goes down to Isaac, pours oil into his 18 THE GOOD SAMARITAN y^ounds, and binds them. Isa^c does not regain consciousness, and Joseph carries him back toward k., murmuring.) Poor old man. I will put him upon my beast and hasten to a wayside inn. where he may heal him of his grievous wounds. (Exit, R.) CURTAIN. ACT II— Scene 2. A room in an inn, early the next morning. A rude interior scene. Isaac lyfnrrti^onless upon a couch. Joseph seated near h.m. drowsily noddn... Joseph. It hath seemed an overlong night; but I dared not leave the old man alone lest he should be in need of aught. This inn-keeper liketh not the look of the wounded beggar- though much I doubt if he be a beggar. {Looks questioningly af Isaac. Voices outside. Enter inn-keeper from rear door.) INNK. Peace be to thee, sir. Hath the old man awakened? Jos. Nay, he still sleepeth. He hath not spoke nor stirred through all the night. iNNK. Thou hadst better seek repose thyself. Jos. {rising). Nay, I needs must go. I have tarried over- much, for my brother expecteth the silks {pointing to the bun- dies on the floor) for the booth today. Here are two pence. Keep the poor man till I come hither again, and I will repay thee whatsoever thou hast spent more. INNK. Thou are a good youth and deserve the blessing of heaven. THE GOOD SAMARITAN 19 Jos. Fare thee well. (Picks up his bundles and goes out, rear.) Innk. Fare tliee well. {Puts wet cloth to Isaac's head-) Ah, that was a noble young man. Would that ray son were like him. (Isaac stirs and tries to rise.) Is. Where am I? Innk. Thou bidest in good hands; fear not. Art thou in pain? Is. Nay, my v/ounds trouble me not so much as the won- der of my position. Ah, now it cometh to me. I passed along the road to Jericho, v/ith my bag of jewels — Innk. Jewels! Thou! Where did'st thou steal them? Is. Sir, I am a jewel-merchant of Jerusalem; but I did dis- guise myself as a beggar, for greater safety in carrying my gems. But as I joixrneyed, being about five miles from Jerusalem, thieves leaped upon me from behind a great rock by the highway. They struck me to the earth, and I knew no more. Innk. But, sir, wherefore dealt they so with thee, taking thee for a penniless beggar? Is. Thus I conceive it: Of late I did employ a new servant- boy, Peter, of whom I knew naught. As I declared unto a friend, Simon by name, my purposed journey to Jericho, Peter stood nearby. Not long after, friend Simon beheld him talk- ing to an evil-looking man in the courtyard. Then did Simon 20 THE GOOD SAMARITAN warn me to disguise myself as a beggar, that none might sus- pect me; and so I did prepare with great secrecy, Yet shrewdly I surmise this same Peter overheard all and did betray me. Innk. Mayhap thy friend is deceitful and did tell the ser- vant himself. Is, {with dignity.) Nay, he is my trusted friend. And now, sir, if thou wilt find for me a beast, I will straightway set off toward home. Bereft thus of my jewels, it needs not that I journey on to Jericho. Alas! Jehovah hath dealt heavily with me. But I must on; perchance — Innk. But, sir, thy wounds? Is. They trouble me not; besides I shall ride. I will return home at once, that I may bestir myself to recover my gems, {Then putting his hand to his head.) Oh, I had w^ell nigh forgot — how came I here? How found'st thou me? Innk. I found thee not. A young man of noble bearing brought thee hither. He found thee beside the road, and he took pity upon thee and brought thee to this inn. He hath even paid me for thy lodging, and hath assured me of my recompense for thy reckoning when he shall return. Is. "Wondrous kind; for I doubt not he took me for a beg- gar. Hast thou no further knowledge of him? Innk. He was on his way to Jerusalem. Mayhap thou wilt see him there. Is. How shall I know him? Tell me, good sir. Innk. Mark thou well. His cloak was fastened with a THE GOOD SAMARITAN 21 locust of beaten silver, and — ah, yes, over his right eye was a small white scar. Is. As the Lord livetli, I will seek him in the city, and right v/ell shall he be recompensed. Hast tliou any beast w^ithin thy stable? Innk. Behold now there standeth an ass in my courtyard. He will bear thee to the city, and thou may'st send him hither again by a servant. Is. Thou, too, art most kind. But that young man — when I have found him, he shall be presented in my household, and all that lieth in me will I do to further his welfare. {Then, as inn-keeper offers to assist him.) Nay, I am stronger now^; I need not thy help. Fare thee well. (Isaac moves slowly away.) Innk. May thy beard never grow less, noble sir. ( Then as Isaac £oes out.) Heaven forward thy search, and may'st thou find the youth and prosper him in his business; for he did that for thee which scarce any would dare. Long may he live in the land of his fathers. I will get me at once to my duties, ere the heat of the day become a burden. {Exit inn-keeper.) (CURTAIN.) ACT III— Scene 1. The market-place, just within the Jaffa Gate. People of different nation, alities are passing to and fro. The stalls of merchandise are all decorated* while tradesmen are crying their wares to prospective purchasers. In the foreground is a booth full of silken stuffs, kept by a young- man of noble 22 THE GOOD SAMARITAN mein. It is Reuben, the brother of Joseph. Rebecca enters, at left, and looks about She saes Reuben's stall and comes swiftly toward it. Reu. Greeting, maid. Would'st thou look at silken stuffs this morning? Re. Nay, good sir, though I shall feign to do so. ( Then, looking through the silks.) 'Tis about thy brother Joseph I have Gome. Reu. {clutching the table,) Ha! 'tis evil news? Re. Nay, tis good. Reu. Then he hath not been waylaid by thieves? Re. I know not. I bear him message from my mistsess. Is he not here? Reu. Nay, he bringeth silks from foreign parts for me to sell today. He should have been here yesterday at the sev- enth hour. I know not what keepeth him. My heart mis- giveth me lest some foul mischance — Re. Be not anxious, good sir, I pray thee. But I must not tarry here. Give him this message when he cometh. (She slips a note to him under cover of the bolt of silk.) Reu. Fare thee well, maid. (Exit Rebecca, l. Reuben muses.) Methinks she must be the servant of old Isaac's daughter, the beautiful Leah. And this {putting the note in his bosom) is a message from her. Ah, Joseph, Joseph, I fear me thy suit is without hope. "We of Samaria may never mate with the chosen ones of Jerusalem, ( Takes down a manu- script and reads.) "He is despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were THE GOOD SAMARITAN 23 our faces from him; he was despised and we esteemed him not." Yea, so it is written by the prophet Isaiah. Jesus, son oi Mary, claimcth to be the Messiah; and some believe on him, though the greater part revile him. Surely the times be not yet ripe for the Son of God to appear; yet wondrous are the works of this prophet Jesus and his followers. All Judea talketh of his teachings, and many do follow them openly- Of a truth, one must needs believe, seeing the good that he doeth. {Looking up the street, L.) There cometh Joseph Safe! Praise be to Thee, O God, for his safe return. {Enter Joseph, l.) Jos. Greetings, my brother. {They embrace.) Reu. I feared for thee, brother Joseph. What hath be- fallen thee, to keep thee so long away? Jos. As I came hither from Jericho, being but five miles from the city gates, I found a poor old beggar by the wayside. He was wounded nigh to death; and I pitied him, and took him to an inn. All the night I watched by him, and on the morrow, this very morning in sooth, I gave the keeper of the inn two pence to make him all comfort till I should return. Reu. Two pence! Hard are the times, and thou can'st ill afford it, Joseph, Yet thou wert ever thus, caring always for the weak. Well I remember how, in thy childhood, thou did'st nurse the wounded sheep and lambs. Once, thou did'st weep all day but to see a couple of singing birds in a cage of gilded riishes. Jos. Tut, Reuben! Thou also hast a tender heart, though 24 THE GOOD SAMARITAN thou giv'st not way to vain fears. And as for the beggar, thou knowest I did but my duty. Our father taught us ever to do thus. I remember, too, the bidding of him whom they say to be the Mesaiah, "Do unto others as ye w^ould they do unto you." So I recall it. Is not that a noble motto? Reu. Yea, Joseph; many are the wise sayings of that teacher. Believest thou in him, my brother. Jos. Reuben, I fear thou wilt laugh at me; but last night, as I sat by the side of the poor wounded sufferer at the inn, it seemed I heard a voice speaking to me and saying, "As ye do it unto the least of these my bretheren, ye do it also unto me." I looked around. No man was nigh. The beggar still slept on. Yet the woi-ds kept ringing through the room. Call me foolish, an thou v/ilt, but I feel that 'tis a sign from heaven that Jesus is the true Messiah. Reu. Ah, Joseph, these are troublous times, I know not what to believe. But be thou careful of publishing thy beliefs, for many are his enemies, both hei'e and in Samaria. {Shaking his head.) Some there be in Samaria who believe on him. One woman, indeed, who met him (so she saith) near Jacob's "Well, tellcth everywhere of his goodness. She is a w^oman of no reputation, yet many give ear to lier testimony. Jos. Ke hath been near Samaria, then? "Would that I had been there. If Leah, now, should tell — Reu. Aye, brother, I had v/ell nigh forgot; a servant woman came but now ^sfith message from her mistress to thee. Jos. {eagerly) Hast thoii it? Give it me. (Reuben gives THE GOOD SAMARITAN 25 him the note. Joseph reads.) Ah, I must hasten. Listen, Reu- ben. "Joseph, can'st thou come to our house this day and intercede with my mother? My father hath gone to Jericho, and thou can'st come in safety. Father hath given encourage- ment to one Jacob, a Levite, whom I have seen but twice; and I needs must marry him, unless thou can'st persuade my mother to reason with my father. Ever thine own, Leah. Dear maid, I come. Reu, But, Joseph, hast thou asked her in marriage? I thought thou had'st seen her but twice. Jos. So, indeed, it is. Bixt a youth must needs make haste with a pearl like Leah, for she hath many suitors. When first we looked upon each other, 'tv/as in a multitude. We spoke not; but her great dark eyes made answer to mine own. I sought out her name and her dwelling; and by her maid Rebecca I sent message to have speech with her. Reu. Knew she that thou wert a Samaritan? Jos. Not then. "Tell this young man," so sent she token by her maid, "that not this day may he have speech with me, but on the morrow." And so it was that upon the morrow she came dov/n unto me in her couityard and spake with me. ''Knowest thou," I said, "knowest thou that I am a Samaritan?" She started; then she bent her gaze ixpon me and murmured in a voice of sweetest music, "Are we not all children of the Heavenly Father?" Reu. Did'st thou ask to sec Isaac? Jos. Yea, I spake out, "I love thee, Leah, and fain would 26 THE GOOD SAMARITAN speak with thy father;" but before she could answer, an angry voice bade her presently into the house, and I perforce must go my way, so for that time I saw her no more. Reu. How can it speed thy suit to talk with the mother of Leah? Doth not Isaac rule his household with an iron hand? and dares she cross him? Jos. Nevertheless, I shall try. Fare thee well. Reu. Wait, the silks! My business is ruined. O, where- fore did'st thou divert me with thy talc of love? Jos. Content thee, Reuben; thy silks are just within the Jaffa Gate, guarded by a trusty man. I will send them hither at once. Reu. Forgive mc, brother, for mine anger. Jos. Yea, gladly. And now I go to Leah. Farewell {Exit, R.) Reu. Farewell. God speed thee in thy suit. I must hence and fetch my merchandise. Yonder it lieth, by the Gate. {Exit, L.) (CURTAIN.) ACT III~SCENE 2. A room in Isaac's house. Marah and Leah sewing, as in Act 1. Mar. I fear for thy father, Leah. We should not have suffered him to go unattended. Le. Suffered him! Thou knowest that our words have no weight with him, mother. THE GOOD SAMARITAN 27 Mar. Leah, child, speak not disrespectfully of thy father. Re. {entering with a package, l.) A servant of Jacob's hath delivered this to my hand for thee. {Gives package to Leah.) Le. For viel {Unwraps bracelet.) Ah, the bracelet. Give it to him ajiain, Rebecca. Mar. But, Leah, be not discourteous. It is a beautiful gift and ^ould look well with thy jasper necklace. Le. Nay, mother, to receive it were to look with favor upon his suit. I will not. Take it, Rebecca. {Exit, Re- becca, L.) Mar. Much I fear for thee, Leah; thy father will not brook a rebellious spirit. Le. Mother, why hath my father such a stern, unyielding manner, if he hath accepted the new faith? He believeth on Jesus, doth he not? Mar. I know not, Leah. I would that I knew of a surety. He must not be told as yet that we believe, for he knoweth not that we have ever left the house to hear this Jesus preach. Le. Ah, mother, that one glimpse of Jesus did melt my heart. A face so full of love unearthly have I never seen. He looked down with the tenderness of a mother upon the people gathered to hear him, and when he raised his eyes towards heaven he seemed to commune with the eternal Father. And he spoke, not like the scribes, but as one hav- ing authority, with a power that seemed of God. Mar. Leah, Leah! I burn to hear him speak again. Still do 28 THE GOOD SAMARITAN 1 catch liis gentle voice. Oh, never mau spake as he spake. If thy father hath but — CRebecca enters l. with a pleased smile.) Le. Rebecca, did'st thou send back the bracelet? Re. Yea, mistress. But a young man waiteth below to speak with thy mother. Mar. "With mc? Bring him hither, Rebecca. {Exit Re BECCA, l.) Le. (throwing herself on her knees.) Oh, mother, mother! I did send word to Joseph, asking of him that he come and speak with thee. Mar. (shocked). In thy father's absence! My child! Le. Oh, mother, forgive me. I love Joseph, though I have seen him but a few times. Would'st thou have me marry Jacob? Mar. God forbid, my daughter, for he is not a good man; but thy father hath spoken. {Enter Rebecca, followed by Joseph. Exit Rebecca, l.) Le. (rising.) This is my mother, Joseph. Mar, Greeting, sir. Be seated. Jos. Mother of Leah, my heart is full. I know not where to begin. I love thy daughter. Mar. Alas, good youth, she hath been promised. It griev- cth my heart, for thou art young and good to look upon. Jos. Can'st thou not speak for me to thy husband? It needeth not that he answer presently, for I go on a journey and may not come again for many days. THE GOOD SAMARITAN 29 Le. {apprehensively.) A journey, Joseph? Jos. Yea, to follow the new prophet and to hear his teach- ings. Le. {eagerly.) Thou ari a believer? (Then reproachfully.) Oh, thou tolcl'st me noi. Jos. But I know not. But once have I seen this Jesus, and from afar. But once have I heard him. I would know more, for tales of his wondrous works are sounded abroad, even through Samaria. Le. Samaria! Oh, woe! I had forgot that my father bitterly hateth all Samaritans. {Starting at a confusion of noises out- side.) What is that? {Looks from window and wrings her hands.) Mother! Joseph! It is my father. Joseph, hide! hide! Jos. Nay, I shall meet him face to face. Mar. I pray thee, good sir, betake thee into this room (goes to R.) until my husband be calmer, for something hath surely gone amiss that he returneth so early. Le. Pray do as my mother biddeth thee, Joseph, just for a little time. For my sake, Joseph. Jos. As thou wilt. I like it not, but for thy sake I will. {He steps into room on R. Leah seats herself again.) {Enter Isaac supported by Simon.) Si. a couch. I met Isaac at the door. He hath been wounded. Mar. Oh, Isaac, art thou ill? {Assists Isaac to a couch.) Is. {from couch.) Nay, not now. My wounds do heal apace. 30 THE GOOD SAMARITAN Le. Thy wounds? What evil hap o'crtook thee, father? Is. Thieves laid violent hands upon me and robbed me of my jewels. Mar and Le. {together.) Woe! Woe! Is. Yea, they left mc by the roadside to die. Ere long a priest came down the road, but his mind was on higher things than earth, and his eyes were raised tow^ard heaven. I called for help, but feebly, for I was sore afflicted. He looked down upon me and turned the other way. Mar. Cruel! And a priest! Is. Likewise, after a little, came a Levite, Weakness was upon me and I could not cry, but I groaned aloud. He started, looked sadly down upon me, and hurried away. Le. Ah! 'tis a cruel world. Is. Then my strength quite failed me, and I knew no more until I awoke in a wayside inn. Mar. How cam'st thou there? Is. Mine host spoke to me of a noble young man who had brought me thither on his own beast, had watched by mc through all the night, and departing had paid the score of my lodging. Si. (sancfimoniously.) A noble deed! A noble deed! Re. {entering l.) One waiteth below, sir, desiring to see thee upon business. Is. Scarce have I the heart for business today. Simon, thou knowest all my affairs; go thou down and do as seemeth THE GOOD SAMARITAN 31 fit to thee. 'Tis likely Nahum who comcth for the ruby clasp that is in ray sandalwood box. Si. Yea, Isaac, trust me. I shall see to thy affairs with all discretion, (Exit l.) Is. Friend Simon is most carcfvil. His love and care for me hath equal only in the devotion of that young man who rescued me and found me refuge at the inn. I was clothed in rags, a beggar, yet he aided me. It was a deed scarce matched for generous thought. He must needs have learned his kind- ness from the Christ himself. Le. Dost thou believe that Jesus is the Son of God, my father? (Marah and Leah draw closer to Isaac.) Is. Yea, I have had change of heart since my journey. Almost did I believe on Jesus ere my start, but a vision hath confirmed Mar. a vision? What saw'st thou, Isaac? Is. Naught clear; but it seemed that I saw the face of Jesus as he looked when once I beheld him preach; and I heard a voice of infinite tenderness saying, "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Le. Oh, father! would that I had heard. Is. Ye also believe? Mar. Yea, Isaac, we have been persuaded of the truth, lo, these many days. Is. Many are the doubting ones in Jerusalem. Jacob hath told me that he thinkcth Jesus to be a sorcerer and a deluder. Le. Father, thoii wilt not force me to marry Jacob? 32 THE GOOD SAMARITAN Is. Nay, child, thoii need's! fear that no longer. Twerc meet that thou should'st marry the young man who did res« cue me, if I should find him, my daughter. Mar. How cans't thou know him, Isaac, if thou hast never seen him? Is, The inn-keeper told me that I might discover him by the clasp he wore, a locust of beaten silver. The youth bear- eth, too, above his right eye, a small white scar. Le. {crying out.) It was my Joseph! Oh, day of joy! {run- ning to door, F.) Joseph, come hither. Hast thou heard? Jos. Yea, I heard. Is. {rising angrily.) Thou! {sinking hack.) It needs must be. The clasp; the scar. Le. It was thou, Joseph? Jos. Yea, but I knew not it was thy father. (Rebecca enters, l., hurriedly, followed by Peter.) Re. Peter hath returned, sir, and would speak with thee. Is. Thou hast repented of thy treachery, Peter? Art thou of that band of thieves? Peter. Nay, sir, I am of no band of thieves, Al\'/ays have I served thee faithfully until Simon tempted me. Is, Simon! Have care what thou sayest, Peter. Hear me, my master, I tell thee true. Simon came to me, 'tis but three days since, and offered me money to bear message for him. I laughed for joy, for behold, did he not offer me two shekels to do so light a task? THE GOOD SAMARITAN 33 Re. Yea, I saw thee from the window, and straightway I doubted of Simon's honesty. Is. "What more, boy? Peter, "When he bade me warn the robbers of thy approach with the jewels I cried out against it. But he did threaten mc, and I dared not but obey him. Is. (sadly.) Scarce can I believe it. For why should Simon have dealings with robbers? Is he not an honest man of Jerusalem? Peter. That I know not. But this I know — that he leagueth himself with Malachi, the robber chief. And this same Malachi receivcth double portion of all he extorteth from such travelers as Simon warneth him of, and Simon gct- teth to himself the rest. Is. It cannot be! It cannot be! Peter, {handing Isaac a package.) Even now have I been to Simon's house, and I have found hid there these gems; they be Simon's share from the robbery. Is. {opening the package.) Ah, woe! What shall I Si. {appearing at the door, l.) Yea, Isaac, it was Nahum, seeking the ruby clasp; and never saw I an {seeing Peter for the first time; then casting a despairing" glance at the jewels in Isaac's hand.) Peter hath told? Is. Oh, Simon! Simon! I trusted thee. Si. (coming near Isaac and falling upon his knees.) Oh, Isaac! look not upon me so. Is. Dida't thou hate me, Simon, that thou could'st do me such wrong? 34 THE GOOD SAMARITAN Si. Nay, Isaac, 'twas my love for gold that ruined mc. I saw that thou had'st plenty, and kept it not so carefully as I who had but little. And a devil did prompt mc saying: "Get Isaac's jewels when he goeth to Jericho. Thou hast profited by the thieves before." But I said, "Nay, he is my friend; I will not have him harmed." But the evil voice spoke yet again: "The robbers will not harm him; they will but take his gems, and thou wilt get a third if thou wilt tell Malachi of his journey." Is. Ah, Simon, v/hy didst thou yield to a tempter within thyself? Si. I was torn with doubt; but my evil counselor whis- pered yet again: "No one w^ill suspect; least of all Isaac; and thou can'st be rich, rich, rich." I could no longer endure, and even while I talked with thee, 1 planned thy ruin. Is. Then, Simon, thy love for gold outweighed thy love forme. {Putting his hand to his eyes.) Go, Simon, go. lean bear the sight of thee no longer. Si. Oh, Isaac, can'st thou never forgive me? Is. Yea, Simon, I forgive thee now; but never more can I call thee friend. Go, Simon. Si. Ah, I have lost that which is more precious than gold; the love of a godly man. (Exit, l.) Le. Oh, father, I grieve for thy suffering. Is. Nay, child, if only thou bs happy 'tis all my wish. Jos. I will leave thee, sir, until thou Is. Nay, Joseph, I know what thou would'st say; but as THE GOOD SAMARITAN 35 soon as may be I will forget my sorrow. Thy noble deed will be as a li^ht in the darkness of my deepest grief. {Ris- ing and placing the hands o/Leah and Joseph together.) Leah, my daughter, thou hast thy heart's desire. Joseph, my son, I give thee my most priceless treasure, Leah. Mar. May Jehovah bless ye, my children. Is. Ay, and may all the world know that thou, despised of my people, hast done what a priest and a Levite refused to do. And thou that in all future time hcarest of the deed of this Samaritan, learn thou to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself. (TABLEAU.) Marah. Isaac. Peter. Rebecca. Joseph. Leah. (CURTAIN.) NOV 29 ism LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 102 412