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And in their l.u.s.t he can entangle them, Deceiving them far into Judith's beauty, Which is his power, and lop them from their G.o.ds.
Their outrage will be ornament upon her!
Out of the hands of the goblins she will come Not markt with shame, but wearing their vile usage Like one whom earthly reign covers with splendour.
The ignominy they thought of shall be turned To shining, yea, to announcing through the world How G.o.d hath used her to beguile the heathen.
It begins! Now it begins! Lo, how dismay Is fallen on the camp in a strange wind: The ground, that seemed as spread with yellow embers, Leaps into blazing, and like cinders whirled And scattered up among the flames, are black Bands of frantic men flickering about!
Ozias! seest thou how our enemies Are labouring in amazement? How they run Flinging fuel to light them against fear?
Now they begin to roar their terror: now They wave and beckon wordless desperate things One to another.
Hear the iron and bra.s.s Ringing above their voices, as they s.n.a.t.c.h The arms that seem to fight among themselves, Seized by their masters' anguish; dost thou hear The clumsy terror in the camp, the men Hasting to arm themselves against our G.o.d, Ozias?
_Ozias_.
Lions have taken a sentinel.
_A Citizen_.
Judith hath taken Holofernes.
_Judith's voice outside, under the gate_.
Yea, And brought him back with her. Open the gates.
_The Citizens_.
Open the gates. Bring torches. Wake, ye Jews!
Hail, Judith, marvellously chosen woman!
How bringst thou Holofernes? Show him to us.
_Judith_.
Dare you indeed behold him?
_A Citizen_.
Is he bound?
_Judith_.
Drugged rather, with a medicine that G.o.d Prepared for him and gave into my hands.
Open the gates! It is a harmless thing, The Holofernes I have made your show; You may gaze blithely upon him. I have tamed The man's pernicious brain. Open the gates!
What, are your hands still nerveless? But my hands, The hands of a woman, have done notable work.
_The Gates open_. JUDITH _appears, standing against the night and the a.s.syrian fires. Torches and shouting in the town_.
_Citizens_.
Judith! Judith alone! Where is thy boast Of Holofernes captured?
_Judith_.
I am alone, Indeed; and you are many; yet with me Comes Holofernes, certainly a captive.
_Ozias_.
What trifle is this?
_Judith_.
Trifle? It is the word.
A trifle, a thing of mere weight, I have brought you From the a.s.syrian camp. My ap.r.o.n here Is loaded now more heavily, but as meanly As an old witch's skirt, when she comes home From seeking camel's-dung for kindling; yet My burden was, an hour ago, the world Where you were ground to tortures; it was the brain Inventing your destruction.--Look you now!
[_Holding up the head of_ HOLOFERNES.
This is the mouth through which commandment came Of ma.s.sacre and d.a.m.nation to the Jews; Here was the mind the G.o.ds that hate our G.o.d Used to empower the agonies they devised Against us; here your dangers were all made, Your horrible starvation; and the thirst Those wicked G.o.ds supposed would murder you, Here a creature became, a ravenous creature; Yea, here those mighty vigours lived which took, Like ocean water taking frost, the hate Those G.o.ds have for Jehovah, shaping it Atrociously into the war that clencht Their fury about you, frozen into iron.
Jews, here is the head of Holofernes: take it And let it grin upon our highest wall Over against the camp of the a.s.syrians.
[_She throws them the head_.
Ay, you may worry it; now is the jackals' time; Snarl on your enemy, now he is dead.
_Ozias_.
Judith, be not too scornful of their noise.
There are no words may turn this deed to song: Praise cannot reach it. Only with such din, Unmeasured yelling exultation, can Astonishment speak of it. In me, just now, Thought was the figure of a G.o.d, firm standing, A dignity like carved Egyptian stone; Thou like a blow of fire hast splinter'd it; It is abroad like powder in a wind, Or like heapt shingle in a furious tide, Thou having roused the ungovernable waters My mind is built amidst, a dangerous tower.
My spirit therein dwelling, so overwhelmed In joy or fear, disturbance without name, Out of the rivers it is fallen in Can s.n.a.t.c.h no substance it may shape to words Answerable to thy prowess and thy praise.
We are all abasht by thee, and only know To worship thee with shouts and astounded pa.s.sion.
_Judith_.
Yes, now the world has got a voice against me: At last now it may howl a triumph about me.
_Ozias_.
This, nevertheless, my thought can seize from out The wildness that goes pouring past it. G.o.d, Wondrously having moved thee to this deed, Hath shown the Jews a wondrous favouring love.
Thee it becomes not, standing though thou art On this high action, to think scorn of men Whom G.o.d thinks worthy of having thee for saviour.
_Judith_.
This is a subtle flattery. What know I Of whom G.o.d loves, of whom G.o.d hates? I know This only: in my home, in my soul's chamber, A filthy verminous beast hath made his lair.
I let him in; I let this grim l.u.s.t in; Not only did not bolt my doors against His forcing, but even put them wide and watcht Him coming in, to make my house his stable.
What though I killed him afterward? All my place, And all the air I live in, is foul with him.
I killed him? Truly, I am mixt with him; Death must have me before it hath all him.
_Ozias_.
In thee, too, are the floods, the wild rivers, Overrunning thy thought, the nameless mind?
How else, indeed? Nay, we are dull with joy: Of thee we thought not, out of the hands of outrage Coming back, although with victory coming.
But this makes surety once more of my thought, And gives again my reason its lost station; For it may come now in my privilege (A thing that could cure madness in my brain) That thou from me persuasion hast to endure What well I know thy soul, thy upright soul, Feels as abominable harness on it Fastening thee unwillingly to crime,-- The wickedness that hath delighted in thee.
_Judith_.
Ay? Art thou there already? Tasting, art thou, What the a.s.syrians may have forced on me, Ere thou hast well swallowed thy new freedom?
Indeed, I know this is the wine of the feast Which I have set for thee and thy Bethulia; And 'tis the wine makes delicate the banquet.
_Ozias_.
Wait: listen to me. 'Tis I now must be wise And thou the hearkener. Not without wound (So I make out, at least, thy hurrying words) Comest thou back to us from conquering.
And such a wound, I easily believe, As eats into thy soul and rages there; Yea, I that know thee, Judith, know thy soul Worse rankling hath in it from heathen insult Than flesh could take from steel bathed in a venom Art magic brewed over a charcoal fire, Blown into flame by hissing of whipt lizards.
Yet is it likely, by too much regarding, Thy hurt is pamper'd in its poisonous sting.
Wounds in the spirit need no surgery But a mind strong not to insist on them.
See, then, thou hast not too much horror of this; Who that fights well in battle comes home sound?-- Much less couldst thou, who must, with seeming weakness, Invite the power of Holofernes forth Ere striking it, thy womanhood the ambush.
For thou didst plan, I guess, to duel him In snares, weaving his greed about his limbs, Drawn out and twisted winding round his strength By ministry of thy enticing beauty; That when he thought himself spending on thee Malicious violence, and thou hadst made him Languish, stupid with boasting and delight, Thy hands might find him a tied quiet victim Under their anger, maiming him of life.
Now, thy device accomplisht, wilt thou grudge Its means? Wilt thou scruple to understand Thy abus'd s.e.x will show upon thy fame A n.o.bler colour of glory than a soldier's Wounded bravery rusting his habergeon?
Nay, will not the world rejoice, thou being found Among its women, ready such insolence To bear as is unbearable to think on, Thereby to serve and save G.o.d and his people?
_Judith_.
The world rejoice over me? Yea, I am certain.