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. But either I should cease speedily to be a slave, or I should become the most powerful slave in Babylon. (Reflectively.) We might be enslaved together.
CHABRIS. Who?
OZIAS. Judith and I. The history of the world is full of miracles. Meanwhile, I live, and the strong savour of life inflames my nostrils; and the ever-increasing magnificence and terror of war is like wine in my mouth. I shake with delight at the vastness and the mystery of the future.... And there is woman!
CHABRIS. I feel I can eat my pulse now.
OZIAS. There is still woman.
A fracas is heard, back. Enter Rahel, running, followed by two soldiers and a mixed group of Bethulians, including Charmis, an elder.
RAHEL (to Chabris, like a termagant). Why did you go forth alone, grandad, frightening me when I looked and could not find you? At your age! Come back with me this moment.
CHABRIS. Ay! There is still woman!