Rachel. Sorry should I be to pain a true heart, and, most of all, that of my much-loved guest; but, still I must say, the gods that you worship are no gods. There is but one God, and that is Jehovah.
Eudora. As I came near Jerusalem, I remembered your earnest words on that subject,—as what that you ever uttered have I forgotten? I remembered, too, how nearly out of patience I often felt with you for claiming your god to be the only God; and, so as I drew near, I felt a desire to know him better. It being a time of worship in the temple, I went with a Jewish friend of mine up the hill, and entered the outer court, called, I believe, the Court of the Gentiles. And, verily, I saw no god there. Perchance he was in the temple itself.
Rachel. Yes, in the holy of holies: in the farther apartment of that building which you saw rising amid all the courts, he dwells.
Eudora. I imagined that was his abode. But wherein differs your worship from ours? You have a temple; so have we. You have priests clothed in sacred robes; so have we. You have altars and sacrifices; so have we. You have an oracle and prophets; so have we. You go up to the dwelling-place of your God to worship and offer sacrifices; so do we. Wherein, then, do we differ?
Rachel. If in nothing else, Eudora, yet in this: we have but one temple and one God for our nation; you have many. And again, you worship the work of men's hands,—images of wood and stone, that can neither see nor feel.
Rebecca (coming forward—Jezebel approaches). My heart is moved within me; and though my sister, in her joy of seeing her friend, has left me standing apart, yet your voice has drawn me to you.
Eudora. Surely the sister of my friend shall be my sister: would that I could say her God shall be my God!
Rebecca. Even so may it be!
Eudora. And my gods hers!
Rebecca. But that is impossible.