OZIAS. Ah! (_Changing his tone and beckoning the messenger aside_.) What
tidings do you bear?
MESSENGER. I bear the licence from Joachim.
OZIAS. What licence?
MESSENGER. The licence for the people of Bethulia to drink the wine
which is sanctified and reserved to the priests which serve the Lord.
OZIAS (_affecting to be puzzled_). Who hath demanded this licence from
Joachim?
MESSENGER (_surprised_). The lord Ozias sent a messenger to Jerusalem to
beseech that the licence should be granted. And my lord's messenger
travelled so swiftly that in the moment when he reached the temple at
Jerusalem he fell sick and vomited, and I have come to Bethulia in his
place, for after he had vomited he unfolded to me the secret way
into the city.
OZIAS (_grandly_). It is true. In the heavy multitude of my cares I had
forgotten this matter of the licence.
MESSENGER (_confidentially_). And Joachim hath bidden me to say privily
that if any have already in their extremity drunk of the sanctified wine
it shall be denied utterly--for the sake of the church.
OZIAS. Ah!
MESSENGER. And here is the licence. (_Offering it_.
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