University of Virginia Library

ACT IV

(Four days later)
The market-place in Bethulîa. Far back on the right, the entrance to the great synagogue; the long flight of gradually ascending steps leading to the portals crowded with spectators. Garlands and cloths of gold and purple tissues hang from the windows of the houses facing on three sides of the quadrangle. In the centre of the square, a platform two or three feet in height supports a large antique chair richly draped. With the exception of the space surrounding the dais, the stage is slowly filled by people of every condition.
Enter Nathan and Joachim conversing excitedly.
NATHAN
Was it not wonderful! O day of days!
The Ammonite, held captive, saw it all.
It thrills the blood to hear him tell of it.
When they discovered Holofernes slain
And lying headless 'mid the tapestries,
A sudden silence fell upon the camp,
And all the people stood like blocks of stone
In some deserted quarry; then a voice
Blown through a trumpet clamored: He is dead!
The Prince is dead! The Hebrew witch hath slain
Prince Holofernes! Fly, Assyrians, fly!
On this a panic seized the Asshur hosts;
They broke and fled from that strong mountain-hold,
Leaving their arms, their chariots, and their tents,
Even the camels tethered at the stake!
Our children's children shall be told this tale.

JOACHIM
Three days and nights at point of our red spears
The cohorts scattered. Such as know not death
Are safe now in Damascus, or beyond.

NATHAN
'T was Achior led the horsemen. It is said
A man he made a friend of in the camp
Set Achior free.

JOACHIM
That in effect is true—
A captive Holofernes held in thrall
As slave. That gaunt and swarthy-visaged man
Who follows Achior everywhere is he.

NATHAN,
meditatively
To think a woman did it! Day of days!
Yet is not Judith made of tenderness?
I saw her stoop once in the crowded street
To kiss a sickly child the mother held.

JOACHIM
A warrior's soul, a woman's heart! I hear
That she has begged the Patriarchs to remove
The head of Holofernes from the lance
On which 't is set above the Eastern Gate.

NATHAN,
still meditative
Such pity meetly crowns the daring act.
I wonder, now, the peril being past
And all her pulses stilled, if in her thought
There is not some vague, nameless sense of dread
Of her own self that could do such a deed!

JOACHIM
O Nathan, son of Paul, thou ever wert
A splitter of fine hairs! Had she not slain
That monster in his hour of victory,
Making his pride to bite the very dust,
What had become of thee, and all of us!

NATHAN
True!—through God's grace and that one woman's hand
The tombs and temples of Judea were saved.
I would not look good fortune in the teeth,
But somehow the event breeds thoughts in me.

JOACHIM
It were more wholesome to have fewer, man!
I trust thou hast not spoken much of this.

NATHAN
Do I look like a fool?

JOACHIM
No, no, good friend—
That 's what astonishes! But say no more.
This hour comes Judith to the market-place,
Where a glad people fain would honor her
With pipe and timbrel and the heart's acclaim.
See what a mighty throng has gathered here!

[Nathan and Joachim stand aside
Enter Bagoas and Achior.
BAGOAS
O Captain, be not prodigal of thanks.
'T was that brave lady bade me break thy chain.

ACHIOR
Alas, Bagoas, that did not set me free!
I am a prisoner whose manacles
Are newly riveted. 'T is mine to have
A most sweet cruel jailer who forbids
My presence. Only by a chance like this
May I behold her.

[A flourish of trumpets, then distant music
BAGOAS
There my lady comes!—
My fate and thine are one, brave Ammonite.
Though I go back to Koordistán enriched
With all the gold and trappings that were found
In Holofernes' tent—her gift to me—
I still go back a captive, ever bound
In bands of love and reverence for her.
Daring and meek and merciful is she,
And pure as is the white eternal snow
That lies unreached upon the mountain top.

ACHIOR
Thou didst watch over her that dreadful night.
I envy thee the office that was thine,
To stand there in the dark, with dagger drawn,
To save her or avenge, had all gone ill.

BAGOAS
And thou—for her sake didst thou not dare death?

The music approaches. The multitude sways to and fro, and voices cry: “She is coming!” “She who saved us is coming!” Achior and Bagoas join Nathan and Joachim at the wings near the footlights. The crowd parts right and left to give way to Ozias, Chabris, and Charmis, accompanied by chief captains, civic dignitaries, and men-at-arms bearing banners. Enter a troop of maidens dancing, followed by Judith dressed in her widow's weeds as in Act I. She is very pale, and walks with bowed head, Marah a few steps in the rear. The music dies down to a low murmur.
NATHAN
I thought she would come clad in cloth of gold,
Not in the sombre livery of grief.

JOACHIM
Like some victorious chief returned from war,
She lays aside her armor.

The Patriarchs conduct Judith to the foot of the dais, and motion her to ascend. She seems to demur. The Patriarchs, apparently embarrassed, expostulate in dumb-show, pointing appealingly to the empty chair.
NATHAN
See! she halts
Before the throne; they urge her to ascend,
And she, as one unworthy, still protests.
She takes her triumph modestly, methinks.

JOACHIM
Nigh unto Dothaim is a sepulchre
Where all her pride lies buried.

ACHIOR,
sadly
And her love;

One of the chief captains reaches forward and places a light chaplet of laurel upon Judith's brow. Tumultuous cries and cheers.
JUDITH,
in a low voice
Oh, who am I to sit upon a throne?
It were more fitting I should bow me down
At the throne's foot, my forehead in the dust.
Ozias, I have drunk a bitter cup!
Deck me with rue and fennel, if thou wilt.

OZIAS
to Judith
Nay, gentle Judith, they will take it ill
That came from far and near to honor thee.
Thy name is in their hearts and in their prayers,
And they would look upon thy face this day.

JUDITH
So be it, then—it was for love of them!
My city, Bethulîa, 't was for thee!

NATHAN
See! she consents.

ACHIOR,
rapturously
Her face is like a star!
Judith slowly mounts the dais and stands erect, with one hand resting on the arm of the chair. There is a beatific expression on her features as she faces the populace. Those immediately about the platform kneel.
Mark how the warm blood steals into her cheek!
Such tint it brings as in the season's prime
Creeps up the slender stem to dye the rose.

NATHAN,
smiling
A singer of love canticles was spoiled
When Achior turned soldier.

JOACHIM
Peace, man, peace!
I wonder will she speak. She lifts her hand
As if to beg the silence of the crowd.

JUDITH
Oh, not to me, but unto the Most High
Lift up thy voices! Glorify His name
With pipe and harp and solemn chanted psalm!
Let the triumphant breath of trumpets blow
The news to the four winds, Judea is saved!
For once again hath God delivered us.
He was the hand, and I was but the sword,
The sword was I, and He the hand that smote.
Glory and praise to Him forevermore!
(Pauses)
The spell is broken. Now farewell to all,
To votive wreath and music's blandishment.
(Takes off the chaplet and holds it in her hand)
From this day forth I dwell apart, alone
In mine own house, where laughter may not come
Nor any light, vain voices of the world.
Only the sorrowful shall find the door
Unbarred and open
(Descends the first step of the dais, and lingers)
In thy memory
Keep me as some beloved wife or child
Or sister that died long and long ago!

Cries of “Judith!” “Judith!” “Judith!” Children scatter flowers and palm-sprays at her feet. A sudden blare of trumpets, followed by soft orchestral music. Judith descends from the dais. The crowd falls back in silence. Achior impulsively advances a pace or two towards her, and then halts, irresolute.
ACHIOR,
with an imploring gesture
Judith!
JUDITH, hurriedly wrapping herself in the black veil, one end of which she throws over the lower part of her face
Let no one born of woman follow me!

[Swift exit
Bagoas grasps Achior by the arm, restraining him. The crowd leans forward with outstretched hands, and stands spellbound gazing after Judith. Tableau.
SLOW CURTAIN