[Goes back through the side door.]
ESTHER. Oh, were we only far from here, at home!
My father, too, comes not, whom she drove off.
RACHEL (comes back with an unframed picture).
The royal image taken from its frame
I'll bear it with me.
ESTHER. Art thou mad again?
How often I have warned thee!
RACHEL. Did I heed?
ESTHER. By Heaven, no!
RACHEL. Nor will I heed you now.
The picture pleases me. Just see how fine!
I'll hang it in my room, close by my bed.
At morn and eventide I'll gaze at it,
And think such thoughts as one may think when one
Has shaken off the burden of one's clothes
And feels quite free from every onerous weight.
But lest they think that I have stolen it—
I who am rich—what need have I to steal?—
My portrait which you wear about your neck
We'll hang up where the other used to be.
Thus he may look at mine, as I at his,
And think of me, if he perchance forgot.
The footstool bring me hither; I am Queen,
And I shall fasten to the chair this King.
They say that witches who compel to love
Stick needles, thus, in images of wax,
And every prick goes to a human heart
To hinder or to quicken life that's real.
[She fastens the picture by the four corners to the back of the chair.]
Oh, would that blood could flow with every prick,
That I could drink it with my thirsty lips,
And take my pleasure in the ill I'd done!
It hangs there, no less beautiful than dumb.
But I will speak to it as were I Queen,
With crown and mantle which become me well.