University of Virginia Library

ACT III

SCENE I.

A secluded wood near the Assyrian camp. Early twilight. A slowly increasing red glow overspreads the stage. Judith is seated on the trunk of a fallen tree arranging wild flowers in her lap. She has discarded the ornaments worn in Act II, a white scarf replacing the pearl necklace; her costume otherwise the same. Marah in the background holding a small wicker pannier containing lilies, ferns, etc. Holofernes stands a pace or two from Judith regarding her.
HOLOFERNES
Fair women have I known, but never one
Like unto thee. The hour I see thee not
Creeps like a tortoise; but when thou art near,
No swiftest sparrow hath such wings as time.

JUDITH
Of late, my lord, my ear has grown unused
To terms like thine. It has been wont to hear
Accents of grief and pain. Thy phrases seem
As phrases spoken in some half-known tongue.

HOLOFERNES
Then let thy wit translate. In these three days
Have I been lessoned by thy dignity,
Thy wisdom and thy loveliness. The camp
And all the lordly uses of my state
Have lost their savor and significance.
That thou shouldst sit and hold a little flower
Between thy fingers, toying with it thus
Idly and dropping it, doth move me more
Than some affair of gravest urgency.
(Sits down beside her)
At dawn I say: “I shall again behold
This daughter of Judea, shall hear her voice,
And catch, mayhap, a softness in her eyes.”
Translate thou that, O wise Samarian!

JUDITH
Some lady of the court at Nineveh
Perchance might find a meaning.

HOLOFERNES
She were else
No woman! Tell me somewhat of thyself.
Thou art a widow?

JUDITH
I have told thee that—
And daughter to a man could ransom me.

HOLOFERNES
Not though he were the richest in Judea!
How long wert thou a wife?

JUDITH
One year, my lord.

HOLOFERNES
And widow?

JUDITH
Three.

HOLOFERNES
He loved thee well?

JUDITH
O prince,
I may not speak of this!

HOLOFERNES
In faith, nor I.
There 's matter nearer; what is past is dead.—
Art never merry? I would hear thy laugh.
Sad thou art not, and yet methinks thy smiles
Are rarer than a miser's charities.
There is a carven image of a sphinx,
A woman and a lion both in one,
That crouching stares across the empty air
With face mysterious, neither sad nor glad.
Thou mind'st me of it, though thy face can change.
Three noons ago thy cheek went white as death
At sight of me. Thou dost not fear me now?

JUDITH
Not now as then, yet I have fear, O prince.

HOLOFERNES
Thou shalt unlearn it. Busy tongues of men
Have misused me in their dull report,
And made my name a terror through the land.
A soldier's falchion sleeps not in the sheath;
But when these wars are done with I shall hang
My helmet in a garden for the birds
To build a nest in.

JUDITH
Thou art gentler far
Than I had thought thee.

HOLOFERNES
My grim captains here
Would smile behind their beards, could they but know
What soft ambition seizes me at times
Even in the heat and tumult of debate—
A longing to be other than I am,
To turn my back on all this pomp of war
And dwell unknown, in some untroubled spot,
With wife and children, dreaming life away
Beneath the palms and my Assyrian sky.

JUDITH
This earth, my lord, holds not within its store
Of jewels, crowns, and principalities
A thing more precious than thou dreamest of—
Peace and content, and love, the flower of life.

HOLOFERNES
An idle dream that weakens valor's arm.
Meanwhile that nest of vipers is uncrushed!
(Starts to his feet)
Were I much longer to be held at bay
In these accursed hills, I should become
The savage thing men paint me. But the end
Approaches near—my plans are subtly laid.
Two days from this, unless the very gods
Take arms against us, Bethulîa falls.

[He walks up the stage
JUDITH,
aside
But two days left—God help me! Life or death
Lies in the interval!

HOLOFERNES,
turning sharply
What sayest thou?

JUDITH,
recovering herself
That in two days, my lord, it will be shown
Whether or no I am true prophetess.

HOLOFERNES
I shall have kept my covenant, and now
I swear no harm shall touch the oracle,
Though she prove—

Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER,
kneeling
Prince and master, I am sent.
The council waits thy presence, gracious lord.

HOLOFERNES,
impatiently
Say that I come. I had forgotten them!
'T was I myself convoked the conference.
These wrangling captains give me little rest.
Straightway I come.
[Exit Messenger
I go on leaden feet.
I leave thee as a reveller leaves his cup,
The wine unfinished. So, now, fare thee well!

[Holofernes goes out
JUDITH
Amen to that, say I, who fare so ill,
With all this darkness closing in on me.

MARAH,
coming forward
I would, dear mistress, we might not return
To yonder camp. Rude folk for such as thou,
Those long-haired men that from the Tigris come,
And they that stain their teeth with betel-nut—
Fire-worshippers and bowers-down to stone.
Even the good Bagoas in his pack
Hath a flint image that he mutters to!

JUDITH
And I, in truth, I too would not go back;
But that must be, my mission is not done.
Not long our exile now. Hast left behind
Some love-lorn dark-eyed youth in Bethulîa?
Here in the summer quiet of this wood
How far we seem from that distracted town
Wrapped in the vapor of its own sick breath!
Conscience reproaches me that I have found
Some transient moments of forgetfulness
Plucking these wild flowers. 'T was a truce with fate.
Great peril threatens us. Would thou wert safe!
Cruel was I to drag thee in this coil!

MARAH
What danger threatens that I would not share
With thee, sweet mistress?

JUDITH
Ah, thou know'st not all.
To-night, when slumber has sealed every ear,
I'll tell thee what dark embassy is mine
And what fell doom upon disaster waits.
Then, if thou waver, still is time to fly
And save thee.
(Rises to her feet, and listens)
Hark! some foot of man or beast
Has crushed a dry twig in the thicket there!

Bagoas enters hurriedly.
BAGOAS
Lady, I bring a message from my lord
Sitting in council with the captains now.
The prince commands that thou shalt feast with him
This night, and bade me lead thee to his tent.

JUDITH
O Marah, see! my lord keeps not his word.
He is as those false jewellers who change
A rich stone for a poorer—when none looks.
Five days he promised, and but three are gone,
And now he begs me come to sup with him!

MARAH
No choice hast thou, alas!

JUDITH
One needs must go—
When kings invite. The master's will is mine.
Such gloom has touched me lately, I would fain
Know mirthfulness. I jest, for in my heart
There lurks an unnamed terror. O Bagoas!
He would not slay me in some sudden freak?
(Bagoas shrugs his shoulders)
Does he wear arms when supping?

BAGOAS
No, he hangs
His falchion on a peg within the tent;
Dagger he hath none.

JUDITH,
softly to herself
God be thanked for that. ...
Upon a peg within the tent! (Reflects)
Bagoas!

BAGOAS
What wouldst thou have, my lady?

JUDITH
Dost thou serve
The prince to-night?

BAGOAS
He has so ordered it.

JUDITH
Take it not ill if I persuade my lord
To do without thy service by and by,
Leaving thee free to go what way thou wilt.
'T would please my humor just for once to play
Cup-bearer to the prince, and fetch him drink
In that great chalice thou hast told me of.
And should I find him in a gracious mood,
As often men are between cups of wine,
I'll breathe a word for thee into his ear.

MARAH,
aside
My mistress plans to be alone with him!

BAGOAS,
with a quick glance at Judith
No slave had ever such petitioner.
If thou but smile, thou'lt have no need to speak;
Thy suit, unspoken, will be granted thee.

MARAH,
aside
I would that we were gone from here.

JUDITH
But hold!
Perhaps my lord has other guests at hand,
And thou must still remain to wait on them.

BAGOAS
My lord's musicians and his dancing-girls—
He brings such in his train—may come awhile
For thy divertisement. No other guests.

JUDITH
That will content me better.

BAGOAS,
hesitating
May I speak?

JUDITH
A friend's ear listens to thee; speak.

BAGOAS
This night
Thou standest in great danger. My lord's eyes
Are ravished with thy beauty—fatal gift!
His love is pitiless. (Pauses)
Should it so turn
That he, before he hath drunk deep of wine,
Should fall into a drowse, then thou wert safe
For that time being.

JUDITH
Does wine make him sleep?

BAGOAS,
significantly
Some wine might make him.

JUDITH,
eagerly
What is in thy thought?

BAGOAS
I had an illness once; sleep fled my lids
Till I went mad with wakefulness. A man
Of Koordistan, well skilled in subtle drugs,
Gave me a medicine that cured the ill,
And taught me to compound it.

JUDITH,
quickly
Hast thou this?
(Bagoas nods his head affirmatively)
Then give it me!

BAGOAS,
handing her a minute metal box, which he holds between forefinger and thumb
A dozen grains or so,
Dropt in a drink, will straightway dull the sense
And bring a gentle slumber presently.
'T is not a poison.

JUDITH,
placing the box in her bosom
Would it were—that I,
At need, might take it. Though it all prove naught,
I am beholden to thee.
(With an affectionate gesture she gives her hand to Bagoas, who kisses it respectfully)
Tell me, now,
How fares it with the Ammonite?

BAGOAS
He has
Such faring as a fox within a trap—
Caught but not killed.

JUDITH
What harder lies in store?

BAGOAS
I think my lord intends to take him back
To Nineveh.

JUDITH
That were not well for him?

BAGOAS
Most ill, my lady.

JUDITH
And how bears he this?

BAGOAS
As one that has looked peril in the face
By field and flood on many a desperate day,
And so disdains it. At the first my lord
Questioned him keenly, being much perplexed
That one same hour should bring ye both to camp.
The prince suspected—I know not just what.

JUDITH
And now?

BAGOAS
He doubts not that the Ammonite
And thou are strangers.

JUDITH
He has ventured life
For me, Bagoas! If the chance befell
That thou couldst loose the latchet of his trap,
Wouldst thou not do it?

BAGOAS
For thy sake I would.
But 't will not happen.

JUDITH
Heaven is over all.
Strange things ere now have happened in Judea!
(Pauses)
O I must speak, Bagoas! Stand apart
A moment, Marah. (Hurriedly)
Come what will, I speak!
Dark powers, invisible ministers of air,
Led my feet hither, wherefore I knew not
At first, then presently I understood.
Two days from now 't is planned to storm the town
And put these helpless people to the sword.

BAGOAS
Such rumor fills the camp. I think it true.

JUDITH
One thing alone may stay this massacre.

BAGOAS
Whose hand may stay the Prince of Asshur's hand?

JUDITH
God's!

BAGOAS
What thou speakest is not plain to me.
Thy God 's a mystery.

JUDITH
There is that to do
Blanches the cheek and frightens sleep away.
Across my heart in characters of fire
A mortal doom is written. Before dawn
The prince must die!—See how I trust in thee!

BAGOAS
Wouldst have me strike him as he sits at meat?
Command me, I will do it.

JUDITH
Nay, in this
'T is I alone must act, O man of men!
O lion heart! Yet I do beg of thee
A no less heavy service. Should I fail,
Through fault of nerve or some undreamed mishap,
And in the doing find myself undone,
Swear by the love thou bearest her who waits
Thy coming in those far-off lands, O swear
That thou wilt plant thy dagger in my breast
Though thou fall dead beside me.

BAGOAS
In my mind
Such purpose stirred ere thou didst give it words.

JUDITH
Then has God sent thee! I draw breath again.
Let 's on; I must make ready for my lord
(Motions to Marah and Bagoas to precede her)
(Aside)
He said—upon a peg within the tent!

Dark stage and change of scene

SCENE II.

The tent of Holofernes. A large blue pavilion set diagonally across the left rear corner of the stage. The entrance, which is very wide, hung with embroidered draperies, now drawn back. Within, a lighted cresset depends from the ceiling; near the doorway, and nearly blocking it, a low couch placed at an angle. At the right and left of the tent, outside, is a small stand upon which slaves are arranging flasks of wine, chalices, and dishes of food, fruit, etc., as the curtain rises. Among the overhanging boughs of trees glimmer lanterns of colored glass-work, and slender tripods supporting cups of burning perfume stretch in a line on either side of the stage. The scene softly illuminated.

Holofernes discovered seated on a long bench or settle, over which is spread a leopard skin. Behind this is his shield, fastened to the shaft of a javelin thrust into the ground. From the boss of the shield glares a green and gold dragon rampant. The slaves retire.

HOLOFERNES
All day have I been haunted by a dream
That in the breathless middle of the night
Robbed sleep of its refreshment. In my thought
I found myself in a damp catacomb
Searching by torchlight for my own carved name
On a sarcophagus; and as I searched,
A file of wailing shapes drew slowly near—
The hates and passions of my early youth
Become substantial and immortal things
With tongues to blazon forth each hidden crime.
Then terror fell upon me, who have known
Neither remorse nor terror, and I woke.
(Rises dejectedly from the settle)
The dream still frets me, still unstrings my heart.
Is it an omen sent me by the gods?
Such things foretell the doom of fateful men,
Stars, comets, apparitions hint their doom.
The night before my grandsire got his wound
In front of Memphis, and therewith was dead,
He dreamed a lying Ethiop he had slain
Was strangling him; and, later, my own sire
Saw death in a red writing on a leaf.
And I too. ...
(Throws himself upon the settle)
Oh, I am ill and troubled in the mind.
That Hebrew woman shall beguile my gloom.
The hour should bring her, if she have not fled.
By what sly necromancy was I won
To give her unwatched freedom in the camp!
Should she not come!—I sigh in saying it,
As though she were a part of all my life,
This woman I have looked on but three days!

Judith enters, attended by Marah and Bagoas. As they step beyond the wings, Judith turns quickly and lays her hand on Marah's arm.
JUDITH,
in a low, hurried voice
No further, thou. Go hide thee in the wood
Hard by, and when I call unto thee come,
And do the thing I bade thee. Fail me not!

MARAH,
lingering, pretends to arrange Judith's robe
I shall not fail thee, thou adorable!

[Marah goes out
Judith, her manner indicating suppressed agitation, advances to the centre and bends low before Holofernes, who rises quickly, and taking Judith by the hand, leads her to the settle.
HOLOFERNES
The course has wearied thee, so rest thee here,
O Heart's Desire, upon this leopard skin.
From out the jungle by the Ganges' side
The creature leapt on me; and now I bear
The trophy ever with me in my wars—
A kind of talisman. Meanwhile it makes
A throne whereon a haughty queen might sit.

Judith, in dumb-show, declines the proffered seat, and begins to remove the mantle which covers her from head to foot. She throws it over the back of the settle.
JUDITH
No queen am I, but only thy handmaid.

HOLOFERNES
Ere now a handmaid has become a queen.

JUDITH
To serve thee is to reign. I keep my state,
And am most jealous of my servitude.
This night, O prince, no other slave than I
Shall wait on thee with meat and fruit and wine,
And fetch the scented water for thy hands,
And spread the silvered napkin on thy knee.
So subtle am I, I shall know thy wish
Ere thou canst speak it. Let Bagoas go
This night among his people, save he fear
To lose his place and wage, through some one else
More trained and skilful showing his defect.

HOLOFERNES,
turning to Bagoas
Thou hearest, O Bagoas, what she says?
Another hath usurped thee. Get thee gone,
Son of the midnight! But stray not from camp,
Lest the lean tiger-whelps should break their fast,
And thou forget I must be waked at dawn.

BAGOAS
I hear, O prince.

HOLOFERNES
And send us presently
The Arab girls and him that plays the lute.

BAGOAS,
aside as he goes out
Poor lady, in her whiteness how she looks
Like some rare idol that a conqueror
Tears from its niche, in pillaging a town,
And sets among the trappings of his tent.
(Under his breath)
Fear not, O prince. I shall not stray from camp!

While Holofernes divests himself of his breastplate and hangs his falchion on a peg inside the tent, Judith goes to one of the tables, and standing with her back to him, but in a position that enables her action to be observed by the audience, fills a flagon with wine, into which she hastily drops the contents of the little metal box given to her by Bagoas.
JUDITH,
aside
O Thou who lovest Israel, give me strength
And cunning such as never woman had,
That my deceit may be his stripe and scar,
My kiss his swift destruction! If the drug
Work not its magic on him, then—what then!

Judith returns to the settle, and, kneeling, presents the cup to Holofernes. Holofernes drinks.
HOLOFERNES
Richer the wine is for those slender hands
And that gold bangle slipping down the wrist.
Now sit by me. (She obeys)
Cup-bearer, hold the cup.
What a rare slave thou art!
A helmet heaped with pearls, i' the market-place,
Could buy thee not from me. How shall I make
Thy chains seem lighter? Our chance-builded camp
Has little entertainment in its stores;
But I have brought my troop of dancing-girls
From Nineveh, and they shall dance for us,
And one among them, that has voice, shall sing
A love-song that a Persian poet made
Before I slew him for a halting verse.

JUDITH
Surely thou didst not slay a man for that!

HOLOFERNES
Enter a troop of Arab girls, with a clash of cymbals. They prostrate themselves before Judith and Holofernes, and then fall to dancing. Slaves place a small round table near the settle and bring a dish of fruit, a flask of wine, and two flagons. Holofernes and Judith eat and converse in pantomime, he insisting from time to time on her drinking from his cup, which she constantly refills. At the conclusion of the dance the Arab girls again prostrate themselves. While they are retiring, a soft music, chiefly from stringed instruments, is heard, and these verses are sung by a single voice behind the scenes. Holofernes rests an elbow on one knee, and supporting his chin on his hand, listens stolidly to the song.

JUDITH,
aside
A strange new look has crept into his face.
He listened to the music as a man
That strains his ear to catch some distant sound
Whose meaning baffles him.—What is 't, my lord?

HOLOFERNES
Thy coming chased the blackness of my day,
But now the heaviness that clouded me
Has come again.

JUDITH
The music saddened thee.

HOLOFERNES
Not so. I am not fashioned like a harp
That some chance touch may sadden or make glad.
(Rises from the settle)
That pungent scent of burning sandal-wood,
(Puts his hand vaguely to his forehead)
Or the dull opiate of those wilted flowers,
Or some malignant influence of the night
Hath drowsed me. Let me rest upon the couch
A moment; it will pass.

They enter the tent together.
JUDITH
Lie there, my prince,
I will keep watch and ward.

Holofernes reclines upon the couch, propping himself on one elbow. He points to a low tabouret at the side of the couch.
HOLOFERNES
And sit thou here,
Thou of the dove's eyes and the proud swan's throat.
Thy tresses give out odors of the rose.
Thy breath upon my cheek is as the air
Blown from a far-off grove of cinnamon.
Fairer art thou than is the night's one star—
(Smiling)
Thou makest me a poet with thine eyes!

He puts one arm around her neck and gently draws her head to his breast. Judith rests there motionless for a moment, then slowly disengages herself and rises to her feet with a dazed, troubled look. In a second or two she recovers herself, and stooping picks up the flagon, which has fallen to the floor of the tent.
JUDITH
Sweet prince, I have forgot mine office. See,
The flagon 's empty! I'll go fetch thee wine.
She hurries out, and sets the cup on a table, resting one hand on the edge of it, the other hand pressed against her heart.
Oh, save me, Lord, from that dark cruel prince,
And from mine own self save me! for this man,
A worshipper of senseless carven gods,
Slayer of babes upon the mother-breast,
He, even he, hath by some conjurer's trick,
Or by his heathen beauty, in me stirred
Such pity as unnerves the lifted hand.
Oh, let not my hand fail me, in Thy name!
(She returns to the tent with wine)
Drink this, my lord.

HOLOFERNES
In the full compass of my thirty years
At no one time have I so drunk of wine.
Holofernes, who has fallen back on the cushions, raises himself with effort on his elbow. He passes his arm around Judith's waist and constrains her to sit down on the edge of the couch. Then takes the cup and drinks.
Sweet vision, 't is a medicine that cures,
Grief will it cure and every ill, save love.
Who first did think to press it from the grape?
Art going? Nay, I know thou hast not stirred.
(Confusedly)
I am the plaything of vain fantasies.
Voices are calling through a mist. I hear
The clang of shields somewhere far-off, and see
The shapes of men and horses marching by—
O shadows, dreams, and visions, let me be!

Holofernes sinks back on the cushions, his arm slips from his breast, and the flagon, which he has retained in his grasp, clashes on the floor. Judith rises, startled, and looks at him with curious intentness for a few seconds.
JUDITH
My lord? ... He sleeps! ... Unending be his dream!
She advances a step outside the tent, grasping the folds of the looped curtain in one hand, then turns and gazes upon Holofernes.
The ignoble slumber that has fettered him
Robs not his pallid brow of majesty
Nor from the curved lip takes away the scorn
(Lets the curtain fall across the entrance to the tent)
Bagoas shall not awaken him at dawn!
(Pauses)
O broken sword of proof! O prince betrayed!
In me he trusted, he who trusted none!
(Pauses again)
I did not longer dare to look on him,
Lest I should lose my reason through my eyes.
This man—this man, had he been of my race,
And I a maiden, and we two had met—
What visions mock me! Some ancestral sin
Hath left a taint of madness in my brain.
Were I not I, I would unbind my hair
And let the tresses cool his fevered cheek,
And take him in my arms—Oh, am I mad?
Yonder the watch-fires flare upon the walls,
Like red hands pleading to me through the dark;
There famished women weep, and have no hope.
The moan of children moaning in the streets
Tears at my heart. O God! have I a heart?
Why do I falter! (Kneeling)
Thou that rulest all,
Hold not Thy favor from me that I seek
This night to be Thy instrument! Dear Lord,
Look down on me, a widow of Judea,
A feeble thing unless Thou sendest strength!
A woman such as I slew Sisera.
The hand that pierced his temples with a nail
Was soft and gentle, like to mine, a hand
Moulded to press a babe against her breast!
Thou didst sustain her. Oh, sustain Thou me,
That I may free Thy chosen from their chains!—
Each sinew in my body turns to steel,
My pulses quicken, I no longer fear!
My prayer has reached Him, sitting there on high!
The hour is come I dreamed of! This for thee,
O Israel, my people, this for thee!

Soft orchestral music. Judith rushes wildly into the tent, closing the hangings behind her. The boom of a gong is heard and a sentinel near by cries: “Midnight! Midnight! All is well!” A second sentinel, further off, takes up the cry, which is repeated by a third in the remote distance. Marah and Bagoas, with anxious faces, are observed at the right-hand middle entrance. Marah crosses the stage, picks up Judith's mantle, and takes a position near Bagoas. A sound like that of a falling body, accompanied by a muffled exclamation from Judith, is heard inside the tent. Enter Assyrian Captain, who halts abruptly, and listens.
ASSYRIAN CAPTAIN
What noise was that within?
(To Bagoas)
Art stricken dumb?
Some ill, perhaps, hath happened to the Prince.
Art turned to stone? Go to thy master, slave!
Myself will go.

[Advances towards the tent
BAGOAS,
intercepting him
Not thou, ill-fated man!
(Seizes the captain by the shoulder and stabs him)
An evil star it was that led thee here!

ASSYRIAN CAPTAIN,
clutching at the air as he falls
What dog is this has bitten me to death?
(Faintly)
O thou vile slave, had I suspected thee ...

[Dies
Judith violently thrusts the draperies aside and appears grasping an unsheathed falchion, which she flings from her.
JUDITH
to Marah
'T is done! Do thou!

Marah goes into the tent and immediately emerges, bearing the head of Holofernes enveloped in the mantle. Judith, who has stood motionless with both hands pressed against her eyes as if to shut out some appalling spectacle, turns and discovers Bagoas on the extreme left crouching over the body of the captain. She starts back at the sight.
BAGOAS
Quick, let the black night swallow thee! Begone!

Marah seizes Judith by the wrist. The two are seen in the act of taking flight as the curtain descends.
QUICK CURTAIN