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Scene III.] THE VARANGIAN. 341
TABITHA.
No; but I feel
Some pity for myself, and would not fall
A prey to their unmerciful revenge.
I tell thee if, Ben-Zadoc, thou shouldst be
Discovered by the dwellers of this land,
We thall be hewn in pieces, and our limbs,
Blood-dropping, hung o'er tower and city-gate,
The jest and scoff of gazing Gentile crowds.
Would we had never fled Iberia's clime !
32 But in some Moorish kingdom dwelt secure ( )
Among the friendly Arabs, who, like us,
Sprang from our holy father Abraham's loins.
BEN-ZADOC.
Then should I not have gathered such a store
Of silver and of gold, nor driven these flocks
Of human cattle to the mart, nor kept
Such valiant bands to go forth armed for plunder.
TABITHA.
Thou simple one of Israel, say for whom
Hast thou these riches gathered ? for the first
Fierce horde that comes upon us, and the hour
Which brings them here, Ben-Zadoc, I forecast,
Is not far off; but thou, perverse and headstrong,
Wilt not receive good counsel. Tarry, then,
To thy undoing, but / hence will go :
No power shall stay me.
BEN-ZADOC.
Nay, for one night
For one last booty which I yet expect
TABITHA.
Not for the wealth, thou lucre-greedy man,
Of Solomon's ! golden temple Ay, the last
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