It is the draught of water.
OZIAS. She is said to take the air in her tent daily at this hour.
CHABRIS (_accusingly_). And that is why you are here, Ozias.
OZIAS. No! I come here to reflect upon my plans for the saving of the
city, and because of this vantage-point, to view the army of the
Assyrians.
CHABRIS. This vantage-point is new since my day. You have built it
here, not to see the Assyrians, but to see Judith. And that is why you
have set a guard to keep the street empty.
OZIAS. And if it be so, what then? Old man, you are so old that to
confess in your ear is sweet, like murmuring secrets into the grave. If
I do come to this place to watch for the marvellous vision of Judith,
what then?
CHABRIS. What then? And the populace of Bethulia dying of thirst?
OZIAS. The populace!... Mice! Rats! Beetles! (_He makes the motion of
crushing with his foot_.)
CHABRIS. Yet the city is doomed. You can have no hope.
OZIAS. No hope? Am I then a dead body? Am I a rotting corpse? True, the
city will be taken, and when the city is taken I may be killed. But in
your meditations, old man, has it not occurred to you that death must be
highly interesting? Or I may be seized for a slave.
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