Martha. Yes, we are slaves; that only thought haunts me; the chosen people of Jehovah in subjection to the idolatrous Roman.
Salome. Where now is the might of David? where the glory of Solomon? Surely Miriam's song may be turned upon ourselves; for the enemy "hath triumphed gloriously," and we are laid in the dust.
Mary. Let us not, however, despond too much. Jehovah will not always chide. The Roman sway shall have an end.
Martha. I know that Messiah cometh, and he will restore all things; but when?
Salome. Yes, when? Long have we waited, and bitter has been our bondage; and even our own Herod has been more cruel than our foes.
Mary. Nevertheless, let us hope. In the fulness of time the promised one will come. (Miriam and Leah approach.) But, see! two more friends join us.
Martha. Rather say, two more slaves.
Salome. Yes; two more to weep with us.
Miriam. Not so, not so, unless we weep for joy. The cloud that has so long hung over us in blackness is beginning to break. We have experienced more of gladness this day than has been ours since the last report that the Messiah had come was proved false.
Leah. Yes, we have heard strange things since the morning service; joyful news have we for you.