JUDAS. 
True, thou hast been the weapon
With which he struck; but hast been such a weapon,
So flexible, so fitted to his hand,
It tempted him to strike.  So thou hast urged him
To double wickedness, thine own and his. 
Where is this King?  Is he in Antioch
Among his women still, and from his windows
Throwing down gold by handfuls, for the rabble
To scramble for?

JASON. 
Nay, he is gone from there,
Gone with an army into the far East.

JUDAS. 
And wherefore gone?

JASON. 
I know not.  For the space
Of forty days almost were horsemen seen
Running in air, in cloth of gold, and armed
With lances, like a band of soldiery;
It was a sign of triumph.

JUDAS. 
Or of death. 
Wherefore art thou not with him?

JASON. 
I was left
For service in the Temple.

JUDAS. 
To pollute it,
And to corrupt the Jews; for there are men
Whose presence is corruption; to be with them
Degrades us and deforms the things we do.

JASON. 
I never made a boast, as some men do,
Of my superior virtue, nor denied
The weakness of my nature, that hath made me
Subservient to the will of other men.

JUDAS. 
Upon this day, the five and twentieth day
Of the month Caslan, was the Temple here
Profaned by strangers,—­by Antiochus
And thee, his instrument.  Upon this day
Shall it be cleansed.  Thou, who didst lend thyself
Unto this profanation, canst not be
A witness of these solemn services. 
There can be nothing clean where thou art present. 
The people put to death Callisthenes,
Who burned the Temple gates; and if they find thee
Will surely slay thee.  I will spare thy life
To punish thee the longer.  Thou shalt wander
Among strange nations.  Thou, that hast cast out
So many from their native land, shalt perish
In a strange land.  Thou, that hast left so many
Unburied, shalt have none to mourn for thee,
Nor any solemn funerals at all,
Nor sepulchre with thy fathers.—­Get thee hence!

(Music.  Procession of Priests and people, with citherns, harps, and cymbals.  JUDAS MACCABAEUS puts himself at their head, and they go into the inner courts.)

SCENE III. —­ JASON, alone.

JASON. 
Through the Gate Beautiful I see them come
With branches and green boughs and leaves of palm,
And pass into the inner courts.  Alas! 
I should be with them, should be one of them,
But in an evil hour, an hour of weakness,
That cometh unto all, I fell away
From the old faith, and did not clutch the new,
Only an outward semblance of belief;
For the new faith I cannot make mine own,
Not being born to it.  It hath no root
Within me.  I am neither Jew nor Greek,
But stand between them both, a renegade
To each in turn; having no longer faith
In gods or men.  Then what mysterious charm,