HAGGITH (enigmatically).  My mistress has dreamed no dream.  Why does the lord Ozias ask?

OZIAS.  It seemed to me—­(stops)

HAGGITH.  Dreams lift up fools. (Exit into the house.) (Exit Ozias,
L.)

(The soldier strolls forward.  Twilight begins to fall.)

(Enter Haggith from the house with more baggage.)

HAGGITH (to the soldier; curtly; not looking at him).  So thou hast no water?

FIRST SOLDIER (with genial freedom).  Yea, Haggith, we have still a little.

HAGGITH.  Then thou has lied to the governor?

FIRST SOLDIER. Him? (With a jerk of the shoulder!) He knows!  In truth now, thinkest thou he would expect us soldiers to keep guard without water? He knows!  But he is a great lord, and in seemliness he asks for a lie, and that which he asks is given to him—­in seemliness.

HAGGITH.  But the officer raving as thou hast said with thirst?

FIRST SOLDIER.  Ah!  It is the business of a worshipful officer to scorn deceit and to suffer.

HAGGITH.  And all the people?

FIRST SOLDIER.  The people are the people.  But we soldiers are soldiers—­and must drink, or we cannot guard. (Yawns.) Eh!  I could lie down and snore for seven years, but I am appointed to watch all night.

HAGGITH (suddenly caressing).  Sweet warrior!  Would I could rest thee!

FIRST SOLDIER (startled by the change in her demeanour).  Haggith!  Thou art marvellously and desirably changed.

HAGGITH.  I am practising to thy profit for that which lies before me and my mistress.

FIRST SOLDIER.  What meanest thou?

HAGGITH.  Chut!  If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee—­it will not burst thee.

FIRST SOLDIER.  Lord! turn away from me vain hopes and concupiscence.

HAGGITH.  And so thou sleepest not this night!...  Neither do I sleep.

FIRST SOLDIER.  What?

HAGGITH.  I go with my mistress upon a journey.

FIRST SOLDIER.  What journey?  There can be no journey for thee, unless thou leave the city and wend to the Assyrians.

HAGGITH (curt again).  Nevertheless we go upon a journey.

FIRST SOLDIER.  It is madness.

HAGGITH.  It may be.

FIRST SOLDIER.  Who can tell the heart of a master?  Not I!  When dost thou depart?

HAGGITH.  My mistress is attiring.

FIRST SOLDIER.  Thou dost not attire her?

HAGGITH.  I!  I, who have charge over all that is hers!  Wilt thou tell me, then, what is the task of her tiring-women?  Idle sluts!

FIRST SOLDIER.  And this is thy baggage?

HAGGITH (matter-of-fact).  A cruse of oil, a bag of parched corn, fine bread, three lumps of figs—­and a bottle of wine—­yea, the last!

FIRST SOLDIER (drawing in his lips).  Ah!  But thou wilt need an ass for this cargo.