University of Virginia Library

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