SCENE TWO — THE DEMAND Day. The full heat and labor of the camp. SABA ELAN sits near the willows, carving something small from wood, ignoring the work he's too old for now. Suddenly — drums. Not the slow march of memory: a swaggering, mocking rhythm. The OVERSEERS enter with SOLDIERS, fat and bored and looking for sport. HEAD OVERSEER. (expansive, cruel) Working songs! We hear you people have such pretty songs. Songs about your god. Your little burned-up city. (to his men) They say the music of Judah was the finest in all the east. The very finest. (back to the exiles) So. Sing us one. Entertain your hosts. Silence. The exiles freeze at their work. No one moves. No one looks up. HEAD OVERSEER. (the amusement curdling) I said sing. One of you. Any of you. A song of your precious Zion. (a beat; nothing) Are you deaf, or only stubborn? SABA ELAN sets down his carving. He rises — slowly, an old man, but with enormous gravity — and faces the overseer. He says nothing. He simply looks at him. The silence becomes a wall, and the wall becomes defiance.
