Voices
Death were better.—Death were better.—Let us not accept slavery.—Death is a fearful thing.
[Again the trumpet sounds, now close at hand]
A Voice
Let them call, I will not hearken. I hear the voice of death, loud and clear like the voice of God. We must not heed the lure. Better to perish with Jerusalem.
The Elder
I hold thee fast, city of Zion. Weak though my hands, still do I cling to thee. My life hast thou been, be also my death. How could I breathe without thee, how open my eyes in the morning without being able to look upon Solomon’s house and God’s dwelling. Rather would I be buried in thy earth than walk at large in another land; rather would I lie dead with my fathers than live to be the slave of the heathen. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, take me to thy bosom. As I have been with thee in life, let me be with thee in death.
Zephaniah
In this you and I must part company. Death has no charms for me. I have seen too many dead lying in the streets, and I tell you that life is better.
The Wounded Man