University of Virginia Library

Scene III

The balcony of Queen Alexandra's house, overlooking the courtyard of the royal palace, filled with people.
Alexandra.

I am waiting to see her pass: it
is a spectacle. She has grown very beautiful

in her silence. She will not look on me;
she refuses to say farewell.

[Turning back at the sound within of angry babble.
No, children, no! They must not look—
I will not lift you up. No!

A Voice.
What is it?

Alexandra.
It is nothing: it is some one who must die.

The Voice.
Then lift me up.

Alexandra.

It may be she will turn if she
hears the child. My beautiful one! I must
see her!

[She brings out Alexander in her arms.
Alexander.

Where is it? The people stand
together with close feet. Where is it? There
is no music.

Alexandra.

Peace! But when she comes,
call for her; speak her name.

[Enter, at a distance, Mariamne; behind her, her waiting-maid, Judith; then her executioners and a guard. A low groan with weeping is heard from the crowd.
Alexander
(struggling free).

I will not see it!
Aristobulus, it is our mother. . . . I will go
to her!

[He runs within; there are sounds of struggle and of sobs.
Alexandra.
A victim! I have borne but victims, I
Of the Deliverer's bone and blood. A victim!
The Jewish royal glory
Before me criminal, abased.
My people,
You are weeping, Israel, you are weeping her!
Should you not weep? I am a rootless stem,
I have no son:
I gave this child a bridegroom, who exalted
And raised her up a queen.
And she refused
This saviour of our race,
Enraged his love with insolence and harshness,
Nor feared him, nor obeyed him, nor with wisdom
Guided herself, nor counsel. Oh, behold her,
Your crown laid in the dust, my shame, my sorrow . . .
Mariamne!
[Mariamne, who is now below the window, pauses, but does not look.
I am aged,
I have few years; you have made them grey to me,
Grey years . . .
My people, she has closed her heart.
She that betrayed her race, her doting husband,
Her tender children, she has closed her heart.
Where is the Rose
Of Sharon, where the Lily of the Valleys?
My people, I have seen my kindred perish,
I have no son, . . . and she has closed her heart.
[Mariamne neither looks nor moves. Suddenly Alexandra leans over the balcony, till her head is in line with her knees.
Judith!—My service now!

Mariamne.
I shall want her by for my disrobing. . . . No,
Pass to your mistress.

[Judith hesitates, but Mariamne's hand forces her to leave the procession. Some one in the crowd throws Mariamne a rose; it falls at her feet, and Judith picks it up, giving it to her mistress, while they say good-bye with their eyes. Mariamne walks on, wrapping her hands round the flower. Judith goes into Alexandra's house, and in a little while comes on to the balcony.
Alexandra.
You have touched her robe; oh, you have touched her hair—
My child!
You could not have disrobed her, child.
Nay, do not weep!
[She holds Judith against her breast for a moment, then looses her.
Go, bring me back the raiment of my child,
And the tresses of her blood. . . .