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 assailed.

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 perishing. 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 muffled 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

By God’s mercy I believe it. Thus will you save her alive.

Ahab

God be praised, Jochebed. In my sore need I have already done what you wish.

Jochebed

A blessing on you therefor!

Ahab

I have sent my boys seeking him.

Jochebed

If they can but find him. Lacking him, she will die of mingled pride and longing.

Ahab

Truly, since she drove him forth, she has been unceasingly at war with herself.

Jochebed

Who is at peace in this stormy time?

[The mother wakens with a sigh]

Jochebed

[Speaking softly to Ahab] Ahab, she stirs, she is waking. Her eyes are still closed, but her lips move as if to speak.

[Ahab bends over the sick woman]

The Mother

[Speaks with closed eyes, the tones of her voice like those of a song heard in the distance] Has he come? Is he here? Where is he, the son of my sorrow?

Jochebed

[Whispering] How wonderful! For the first time she speaks of him plainly.

Ahab

Nay, she is still dreaming.

The Mother

[Moves and opens her eyes] Are you there, Ahab? Is that you Jochebed? My dreams are dark and uneasy.

Ahab

[Tenderly] How do you feel? Have you slept well?

The Mother

How can I sleep well, when my dreams are so dreadful? Where is he? I saw him. Why did he go away?

Ahab

Whom do you mean?

The Mother

Why did he go away? Why did you let him go away?

Ahab

There has been no one in the room but Jochebed and me.

The Mother

Not he? Not he? The house is haunted with dreams. [She sits up suddenly in bed, glancing round with feverish anxiety] Why do you not summon him?

Ahab

Summon whom?

The Mother

How can you ask? Can you not see that death’s hand is upon me? Yet you will not send for him.

Ahab

How should I dare …

The Mother

Alas, that I should be immured here, too ill to move, tended by blind servants with hearts of stone. Away, away.

Ahab

But mistress …

The Mother

You have betrayed me. You have forbidden him the house. I know he must have come, and you have barred the door. He has been here. My instinct tells me. He waits but the summons, and you will not send. You have denied him entry.

Ahab

Hearken, mistress …

The Mother

Woe is me! Away! May you die as I am dying, abandoned by your children; may you die in the straw like an outcast.

Ahab

Let me say a word …

The Mother

One word only will I listen to, that he is coming, that he is here.

Ahab

That is what I would fain tell you. He is coming. His footsteps draw nigh.

The Mother

[Rapturously] He is coming, my Jeremiah? Deceive me not, Ahab. Cheat not a dying woman.

Jochebed

Ahab has already sent his sons to seek out Jeremiah.

The Mother

He is coming. Is it true? Yes, I hear him. I hear his footfall. I hear him in the house. He knocks at the door, knocks within my heart. Hasten, man, hasten. Why do you tarry to admit him?

Ahab

[Endeavoring to calm her] Mistress, he will be here anon. Early this morning did I send my boys.

The Mother

[In excitement once more] Nay, he will not come. Your lads are slothful, and are idling in the streets. Would they but hasten. The darkness gains on me. If I could but see him ere I sink into it. Run, Ahab, he may be at the door.

Ahab

Have patience, you will do yourself a harm.

The Mother

Why do you not let him in? Can you not hear how he is hammering at the door? I feel it in my temples. Open to him, open.

Ahab

Not yet is he here, but he will come ere long.

Jochebed

He will soon be here. Have patience a while.

The Mother

No, no; he is there, but you are keeping him from me. My time is short. My limbs are cold …

[Jeremiah comes quietly into the doorway, and remains standing in doubt, his hands clenched, his head bowed as if he were carrying a heavy burden]

Ahab

Don’t throw yourself about so. He will be here anon.

[Catching sight of Jeremiah, he starts and stops speaking. Jochebed likewise preserves an anxious silence. For a few moments no one speaks in the darkened room]

The Mother

[Raising herself with difficulty] Why are you both silent? [She suddenly gives a cry of joy] Has he come? Is my Jeremiah here? Where are you, Jeremiah?

[Hesitatingly, Jeremiah moves forward a few steps. He, too, is a prey to strong emotion]

The Mother

[Stretching out her arms towards him] You are there, I feel it. Would that I could see you clearly. Why come you not close, that I may touch you?

Jeremiah

[Not moving, his hands still clenched] I dare not, I dare not. Disaster dogs my footsteps. Curses go before me. Let me stand thus apart, lest my breath harm you, lest it strike terror to your soul.

The Mother

[Feverishly] My child, my arms crave for you. Come close, dear, come close. Are my lips so hateful to you? Is my hand so estranged?

Jeremiah

I am estranged from myself, and a stranger in this house.

The Mother

Alas, he repels me, will leave me once more. What makes you so cold, so hard-hearted?

Jeremiah

A word burns between us like the sword of the angel of God.

The Mother

The curse, for which I have cursed myself a thousand times? Idle breath was it, and the wind has blown it away.

Jeremiah

Nay, Mother, the curse stands, and all the streets are filled with it. It rebounds from the wall of every house, attacks me from all men’s mouths. No longer am I your son, no longer living flesh, but the mock of the world, an outcast from my people, hated by the righteous, forgotten by God, loathed by myself. To myself leave me. Let me remain in the darkness, most accurst of all men.

The Mother

My child, were you indeed the rejected of all men, banned by the priests, outlawed by the people; had God himself thrust you away from the light of his countenance; still were you my son, blood of my blood for evermore. I will love you for their hatred, and bless you for their curse. If they have spit upon you, come that I may kiss you; if they have cast you out, come that I may take you in; home, come home to my heart. Sweet to me is the bitterness of your lips, sweet the salt of your tears; blessed is all that you do; if only you return to my mother’s heart.

Jeremiah

[Falling to his knees with a groan] Mother, spirit of eternal kindness. Mother, you give me back my lost world.

[The mother folds him in her arms, and clasps him without speaking for a time. Tremblingly she strokes his head and his body again and again. At length, as she looks at him, a strange glow of happiness lights up her face, and she speaks to him in a plaintive chant]

The Mother

Child of my heart, whom the world thrusts aloof,
Had you but stayed with me, ne’er left my roof!
Home now returning, find peace in my arms,
They hold you once more, son, safe from all harms.
Tranquilly cradled, unscathed shall you bide,
Keeping the house, no more ranging wide.
Tenderly stroking your brow and your hair,
I will set your heart free from all sorrow and care,
And the curse which I spoke on that ill-omened day,
Lo, with my hands I have brushed it away!

Jeremiah

[Awestruck] Oh Mother, how thin your hands have become;
Oh Mother, how wan your cheeks have become.
Your heart is scarce beating; your lips are so pale.
How can I help you? Can nothing avail?

The Mother

My days have been lonely, my nights have been dreary.
When you did not return, I grew heart-sick and weary.
Your absence was killing me. Now you are back,
Your coming suffices. Naught more do I lack.

Jeremiah

Through the streets did I wander, my heart turned to stone.
Your forgiveness now craving, I fain would atone.

The Mother

Nightly I dreamed your dreams,
As I lay in the empty house,
Alone and forsaken.
By day they lurked in the shadows;
But as night fell,
Stealing forth from dark corners,
Like toads, bats, and owls,
They crawled and flittered round my temples,
Filling my soul with horror.
Rending and gnawing,
Devouring sleep,
Like vampires did they sap my strength,
So that the dawning of day
Found me hag-ridden,
Shattered and broken.
Jeremiah, I adjure you,
Leave me not again.
Jeremiah, I implore you,
Stay with me, stay with me,
For the time is short.

Jeremiah

Mother, what mean you?

The Mother

Seek not to deceive me.
Think you I know not
That death draws near?
Even as on a dial
The shadow rises
Stage by stage up the wall
While the sun sinks in the west,
So, with every breath I draw,
Does darkness rise within me.
Woe is me that, still living and aware,
I feel the grip of death’s cold hand.

Jeremiah

Nay, Mother, God’s purpose with us is plain.
How can you think he will part us anew?
No more am I froward. Your child once again,
I am sent back by him for a fresh life with you.
Were it otherwise, say to me why should I be
Unclouded by visions, from dreaming set free?

The Mother

Do you dream no longer?

Jeremiah

My sleep is dreamless; my slumber is mute.
The night-time faces trouble me no more.
My dreams have become daylight realities.
Revealed in full horror, they stalk ’neath the sun.
I dream no longer, now the world’s awake.

The Mother

[Ecstatically, for she has heeded only the first part of Jeremiah’s speech]

Your dreaming is over?
Then joy comes again.
Indeed, I was certain
That God in his mercy
Would scatter the darkness
That clouded your brain.
Recall but my words
When we parted in pain:
Ne’er shall an enemy circle our wall,
David’s city be taken, Jerusalem fall.
Though foes from the ends of the earth should rage,
The towering battlements ever shall stand.
Firm Israel’s heart, and mighty her hand,
Eternal the days of Jerusalem.

Jeremiah

[Rises from his knees. He stares blankly as he mutters in amaze] Ne’er shall … an enemy … circle … our wall?

The Mother

What sudden fear assails your soul?
What thought steals color from your cheek?

Jeremiah

[Still shuddering] Ne’er shall … an enemy … circle … our wall?

The Mother

Jeremiah,
What has befallen you?
What has frightened you?
What has taken you aback?
And you,
Ahab and Jochebed,
Why are you making signs to him?
Jeremiah, I conjure you,
Tell me what is amiss.

Jeremiah

There is nothing wrong, Mother, nothing at all.
I was but mazed for a moment,
Startled out of myself by your words.

The Mother

Nay, nay, it is false.
Your faces, of a sudden, grew dark and careworn;
Now you all turn away, exchange glances, and whisper.
Awesome, indeed, must be the secret you hide.
It chills me like death;
Like God’s wrath it affrights me.

Jeremiah

[Stammering] Nothing, Mother, we are hiding nothing.

The Mother

Why seek to deceive me? Why hoodwink my eyes?
Not yet am I dead, nor in coffin enclosed.
Life’s breath in my lungs,
Life’s pulse at my heart,
I can hear, I can speak;
Why then hide ye the truth?

Jeremiah

Mother, you are distraught with fever. Your temples are burning, your hands are cold.

The Mother

Why are doors and windows curtained so close?
Why is all so dark and still?
You stifle me in wrappings,
Bury me in cushions,
Me, who am yet alive.
Tell me, tell me why.

Jeremiah

Mother, calm yourself. Take my hands. I am here beside you.

The Mother

I live, I live; I say to you that I live.
No longer shall you deceive me.
Fearful is my awakening.
Too well do I know the truth,
That my dreams were not dreams but realities.
Again and again did I hear
The rolling of the chariots,
The trampling of the chargers,
The clashing of the weapons,
The singing of the hosannas.
Muffled were the sounds,
As they reached me in this darkened room;
And I fancied all was a dream.
Yet now I am awake,
Horribly awake.
Death has forced open my lids.
I know
Why you have shut away light and sound.
Disaster assails the city, has entered the gates.
We are besieged, we are lost.
Woe is me, there is war in Israel!

Jeremiah

Mother, Mother!

The Mother

Jeremiah, speak!
Tell me,
Is he come,
He whose advent you foretold,
The king of kings from the north?

Jeremiah

Mother, you are dreaming.

Jochebed

[Whispering] Lie to her! For her life’s sake, lie to her!

The Mother

[In delirium] Alas, hear the trumpets
Sounding the onslaught!
He comes in his panoply,
The king from the north.
War is upon us.
They swarm to attack.
The ramparts are crumbling,
The gates broken down.
The city is lost,
The temple destroyed.
I am crushed in the ruins,
I burn in my bed.
Save me, oh save me,
Jeremiah, save me,
Carry me forth!

Jeremiah

[Kneels beside her] Mother, an evil fancy
Enthrals your mind.
Mother, hearken.

The Mother

I hold your hands.
Swear to me, swear,
That it is not true.
Swear to me, swear,
That no danger threatens Israel.
Swear to me, swear,
That no enemy shall disturb my last rest,
That my burial place shall be Zion.

Jeremiah

So shall it be. God will be gracious to us in death as in life.

The Mother

Jeremiah,
Do I wander in mind?
Is the foe at the gates?
Or is our world filled with peace?

[Jeremiah struggles vainly for words]

Ahab

[Breaking in on his hesitation] Deceive her, speak ere she passes.
Can you not see
How the darkness shadows her face,
As the angel of death hovers nigh?
Speak, and chase the terror from her soul.

Jochebed

Speak, or it will be too late.
A word, only one word,
So that she may die in peace.

Jeremiah

[Still struggling with contending passions] I cannot, I cannot.
There is one grips my throat,
Holds my soul in his grasp.

The Mother

He is silent.
It must then be true
That God has smitten his own people:
May the day perish wherein I was born!
Alas, the darkness gains on me.
Fire ravages the land.
I burn. Bear me forth.

Ahab

[Interrupting, to Jeremiah] A word, only one word.

Jeremiah

[Choking, as if strangled] No such word can I utter.
God’s hand grips my throat;
God’s hand grasps my soul.
Ah, cruel one, free me …

The Mother

[With a wild cry] Lost, all is lost.
I burn.
The city … the temple … God falls.
God has fallen!
The flames of Gehenna strike home to my heart.
Jerusalem!

[She collapses suddenly. There is silence]

[Ahab and Jochebed move in alarm to the bedside and bend over the dead woman]

Jeremiah

[His voice bursting forth as when a fountain is unsealed]

It is false!
I lied, I lied!
Eternal the days of Jerusalem.
Ne’er shall an enemy circle our wall,
David’s city be taken, Jerusalem fall.
O Mother, once again give ear.
I swear it, look you, I solemnly swear,
Eternal the days of Jerusalem!

Ahab

[Fiercely] Away!
Your oaths will not waken her!
Leave her in peace!

Jeremiah

She must hear me before ’tis too late.

Ahab

[Bitterly] As you say, ’tis too late.
Away from the room.
Your cries will not waken her,
Nor your lies break her sleep.
While she lived you were silent,
Unfeeling as stone.
Idle dreamer and outcast,
Hence, get you begone!

Jochebed

Away, rejected of men,
Scorn of the just,
Away from the house.
Why, ah why,
Did she readmit you?
Away, man accurst,
Break not the calm
Of the death which you wrought.

Jeremiah

[Overwhelmed] Ever accursèd,
Ever rejected,
Thrust forth from home,
Unfriended to roam.
God, God, it is hard to bear men thy word!

[Ahab and Jochebed pay the last duties to the dead, pressing down the eyelids, and wrapping the body in a shroud. Ahab goes to the pitchers and sprinkles water on the ground. No sound but their solemn paces can be heard. Jeremiah stares before him in stupor. Silence prevails for a time, full of the mystery of death. Then a clamor is heard without. There is a vehement knocking at the door]

Ahab

Who knocks?

Jochebed

There is a turbulent crowd without.

Ahab

They assail the door as if they were enemies. You had better open.

Jochebed

Hark to the savages, they have burst in the door.

[The sound of splintering wood is heard. Then hasty footsteps. Zebulon, Pashur, Hananiah, the First Sentry, and many others, rush in]

Zebulon

He must be here.

A Boy

I saw him go in.

Voices

So did I.—He slipped in an hour back.—I was on watch as you ordered.—I saw him too.

Ahab

Whom do you seek?

Pashur

Deliver him up—the man you are hiding.

Zebulon

We will have blood for blood.

Ahab

What mean ye by breaking in here? Away, rabble.

Pashur

[Catching sight of the corpse, raises his hands and speaks reverently] Praise to the eternal judge. May he be merciful to the just. [Turning away he passes into the background]

The Others

[Suddenly stilled, murmur] Praise to the eternal judge.

One Speaks

[Gently] Who has died?

Ahab

One from whom God had hidden the light of his countenance. One full of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. One whose bitterest affliction was that she gave birth to the enemy of her nation.

Another Speaks

Jeremiah!

Zebulon

It is Jeremiah whom we seek. Where is Jeremiah?

Jeremiah

[Comes forward, speaking loudly in grief and indignation] Who seeks Jeremiah? Who still desires to rain curses on me? Let him come, let him curse. I am the mark for all the curses in the world.

Zebulon

It is I, wretch, who come to curse you, I, Zebulon, father of Baruch, whom you have led astray. Where is my son?

Jeremiah

[Tonelessly] How should I know? Am I your son’s keeper?

Hananiah

This man makes a charge against you. Answer, Jeremiah.

Jeremiah

He, too, makes a charge. Should I begin to bring charges I should speak from now till midnight.

Voices

He answers not.—He talks at random, evading the charge.—Pashur, Hananiah, make an end.—Pass judgment upon him.

Hananiah

Have you brought witnesses, Zebulon?

Zebulon

My son has vanished from the town. He has been continually with Jeremiah. On the ramparts, last night, this man heard Jeremiah inciting Baruch to desert to the enemy.

Hananiah

[To the First Sentry] Do you bear this witness?

First Sentry

Verily, prophet, while I stood on guard, there came two men. One was Jeremiah, well known to me. The other was young, little more than a boy, with black hair and flashing eyes.

Zebulon

It was Baruch my son, whom this man hath corrupted.

First Sentry

There was much talk between them. Jeremiah prophesied disaster, so that my heart grew hot within me.

Hananiah

[To the others] Do you hear? He prophesied the fall of Zion.

First Sentry

When the king had gone, and Jeremiah and the other were alone, then the other, he whom you name Baruch, climbed down the wall and deserted to the enemy, leaving Jeremiah on the ramparts.

Zebulon

Do you hear, men of Israel? I charge Jeremiah with leading my son astray, with bringing shame upon my house.

Pashur

[Advancing to the front] Your answer, Jeremiah. What say you to this charge? [Jeremiah is silent] Do you call witnesses?

Jeremiah

[In low tones] The one who would testify for me must not be named.

Pashur

Will he come forward in due time?

[Jeremiah is silent]

Voices

Make an end, make an end.

Pashur

Silence. I will hold just judgment! Jeremiah, I cite you to answer. [Jeremiah is silent] You are charged with having, in defiance of the king’s command, foretold disaster.

[Jeremiah is silent]

Hananiah

Do you deny your words? [Jeremiah still holds his peace] Lo, the fear of death has moved him at length. For the first time he is silent.

Jeremiah

You who have misled Israel, would you tempt me to say No when God says Yes, and Yes when God says No? More strongly hath he tempted me to depart from his ways, yet would I not depart from them. He raised up one against me whose breath was dearer to me than the breath of my own life, but I would not yield to her, for the Lord cuts from the tree of life him whom he hath chosen for a scourge. Go, and leave me in peace.

Zebulon

I will not go. He has destroyed my son. I demand judgment.

Pashur

Twice have I charged you to speak. You have spoken when you should have been silent; now you are silent when you should speak. For the third time I cite you. [Jeremiah is silent] Hear then my judgment. No longer shall you seek to daunt the courageous, no longer shall you lead youth astray, Jeremiah, the son of Hilkiah in Israel.

Jeremiah

Make short work! Wither me no longer with your glances. Enough, enough.

Pashur

You shall be lowered into a pit, that you may no longer be an offence to God’s daylight, nor your voice an affliction to the city. May you perish, and your words with you, in the darkness of the earth.

Jeremiah

Life is affliction! Words are affliction! Blessed be darkness, thrice blessed the tomb.

Pashur

Lay hands on him. Execute judgment!

Voices

Oh, just judgment!—Great is the wisdom of Pashur.—Away with Jeremiah.—Fetch a rope, that we may lower him into the pit.

Jeremiah

[Shrinking from their touch] Touch me not. Better, far better is darkness, for the hour is at hand in Israel when the living will envy the dead, and when those that wake will envy the sleepers. My heart yearns for silence; my soul is consumed with longing that I may become brother to the dead. Make way, I will bury myself, that I may deliver myself from the world, and Israel of my presence. [He folds his arms and moves towards the doorway. The others begin to follow him hesitatingly]

Hananiah

[Bursting in on the silence with an exultant cry] Rejoice, Zion, for broken is the song of thy destruction, rent are the lips of thy slanderer. Rejoice, Zion, for eternal is thy springtime. Jerusalem endureth for ever!

[Jeremiah turns fiercely, raising his arms as if about to rebuke Hananiah. His eyes flash fire. Those at his heels draw back in alarm, as from a wild beast at bay. But Jeremiah controls himself. His arms sink to his sides, and the fierce expression vanishes from his countenance. With a last look at the dead form of his mother, he regains composure. Covering his face, he walks forth alone, like one carrying a heavy burden. The rest follow in disorder. Last of all walks Pashur, deep in thought. Ahab and Jochebed are left, looking at one another uneasily. Ahab takes a linen sheet and spreads it reverently over the body]

VOICES IN THE NIGHT

SCENE SIX

Evening cometh and the shadows lengthen. Jeremiah, VI, 4.

SCENE SIX