Herod. Ho seneschal! another cup! 
With wine of Sorek fill it up! 
  I would a bumper drain!

  Rahab. May maledictions fall and blast
Thyself and lineage, to the last
  Of all thy kith and kin!

  Herod. Another goblet! quick! and stir
Pomegranate juice and drops of myrrh
  And calamus therein!

  Soldiers (in the street).  Give up thy child into our hands! 
It is King Herod who commands
  That he should thus be slain!

  The Nurse Medusa. O monstrous men!  What have ye done! 
It is King Herod’s only son
  That ye have cleft in twain!

Herod. Ah, luckless day!  What words of fear
Are these that smite upon my ear
With such a doleful sound! 
What torments rack my heart and head! 
Would I were dead! would I were dead,
And buried in the ground!

(He falls down and writhes as though eaten by worms. 
Hell opens, and SATAN and ASTAROTH come forth,
and drag him down.)

VII.  JESUS AT PLAY WITH HIS SCHOOLMATES.

Jesus. The shower is over.  Let us play,
And make some sparrows out of clay,
Down by the river’s side.

Judas. See, how the stream has overflowed
Its banks, and o’er the meadow road
Is spreading far and wide!

(They draw water out of the river by channels, and
form little pools JESUS makes twelve sparrows of
clay, and the other boys do the same.)

Jesus. Look! look! how prettily I make
These little sparrows by the lake
Bend down their necks and drink! 
Now will I make them sing and soar
So far, they shall return no more
Into this river’s brink.

Judas. That canst thou not!  They are but clay,
They cannot sing, nor fly away
Above the meadow lands!

Jesus. Fly, fly! ye sparrows! you are free! 
And while you live, remember me,
Who made you with my hands.

(Here JESUS shall clap his hands, and the sparrows
shall fly away, chirruping.)

Judas. Thou art a sorcerer, I know;
Oft has my mother told me so,
I will not play with thee!

(He strikes JESUS on the right side.)

Jesus. Ah, Judas! thou has smote my side,
And when I shall be crucified,
There shall I pierced be!

          (Here JOSEPH shall come in, and say:)

  Joseph. Ye wicked boys! why do ye play,
And break the holy Sabbath day? 
What, think ye, will your mothers say
  To see you in such plight! 
In such a sweat and such a heat,
With all that mud-upon your feet! 
There’s not a beggar in the street
  Makes such a sorry sight!

VIII.  THE VILLAGE SCHOOL.

The RABBI BEN ISRAEL, with a long beard, sitting on
            a high stool, with a rod in his hand.