Signs and Wonders (43 page)

She sat near to him and spoke with him. She told him stories out of her girlhood, how her father, Simeon, had killed a man who had leaped upon her in the field, loosening her girdle and trying to force her to the ground. Her father had drawn his sword and cut down the man where he stood. And she had burned her dress, which was stained with the stranger’s blood.

She told her story, and lifted a goblet of purple wine to her lips, and pretended to drink. She encouraged her host to drink. He tossed off goblet after goblet, and grew more and more delighted. He was on fire with the need for her. He was a sword of desire, and knew that he would soon be sheathed in the coolness of her beauty.

She urged him to drink more and more. He became very drunk. “Lie down, my lord,” she said. “Lie down while I quench the tapers. I would come to you the first time in darkness.”

He flung himself upon the bed. But he had drunk too much, eaten too much. As soon as he touched the bed, he fell asleep.

Judith went to the bed and looked down upon the sleeper. His face was red and swollen, glazed with sweat. His lips were purple. Four carved wooden pillars held up the gorgeous silken canopy of his bed. On one of these pillars hung Hoforernes’ sword, it was a curved scimitar, bright as the new moon.

Judith lifted down the scimitar. She wound her left hand into his hair. “Strengthen me, O Lord,” she whispered. She raised the scimitar high and slashed down at his neck with all her might. She did not cut through. She wrenched the blade from his thick neck, raised it again and cut down again. This time she sliced through the neck. His head was cut from his body.

Holding the bloody head by its hair, she reached up and tore down the canopy—and rushed out of the tent. She gave the head to her servant, who stuffed it in the leather meatbag. Stars blazed overhead. There were no sentries at Holofernes’ tent, for he had told them not to come near that night.

Judith wiped her hands on the canopy and looked up at the night sky. This canopy was flung over the world and sewn with stars. “Thank you, God,” she murmured. Then the two women hurried out of the camp through the valley and up the hill.

They came to the city gates. She saw the watchman upon the wall. “Open now!” she called. “Open the gate! God is with us!”

Her call rang through the city. The elders hurried from their houses to meet her at the gate. People came running with torches; there was a throng in the streets. Her voice was still unnaturally loud, loud as a trumpet, and she cried, “Praise God, praise God, I say! He has not taken His mercy from the house of Israel, but has used me to destroy our enemies this night.”

She reached into the leather bag and pulled out the head. “Behold Holofernes,” she cried, “chief captain of Assyria’s king! Behold the canopy under which he lay in his drunkenness. Behold the hand that smote him, the hand of a woman. And, as the Lord lives, although I deceived him with my beauty, yet I killed him before he could defile me.”

No voice answered. The torches flickered. The crowd was silent, struck mute with astonishment. Finally, Ozias came to her and said: “O daughter, blessed are you above all the women on earth. Thanked be the Lord God who has created the heavens and the earth, and who guided your hand that held the sword.”

“Let me say one more thing while the spirit is upon me,” said Judith. “Then I will return to the quiet ways of widowhood. Do this now: Hang this head high upon the city wall. Let every fighting man take his weapons and go down the valley and occupy the heights above the camp of the Assyrian. But do not attack, not yet. At the first light of dawn, beat your spears upon your shields and blow blasts upon your trumpets and make a great clamor. The Assyrian captains will think you are about to attack and rush to the tent of Holofernes for instruction. Entering the tent, they will see the headless body of their great leader, and terror will strike them. They will fall into a panic. They will not know what to do. All will be confused. Then you must attack. March upon them and smite them. They will flee before you.”

A man took the head from her. Another man took the canopy. She went through the crowd toward her house. But she stopped. She saw a man lying on the stones. She knelt to him. It was Achior, the Ammonite. She raised his head. His eyes opened.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I am a warrior and have seen many men die before my eyes. But when you pulled the head of Holofernes, the great Holofernes, from that leather bag, then I fainted dead away. O Judith, blessed are you in the tabernacle of Israel. In all nations, men, hearing your name, shall be astonished.”

She bent and kissed his face. “Thank you,” she said. “Of all this multitude you are the only one, I believe, who can picture my deed this night.”

She arose and went to her house. Achior gazed after her. “Truly,” he said to himself, “there is only one God, the God of Israel. There is also only one woman in the world for me, that bloody-handed beautiful widow. I will turn Jew and woo her.”

That very night he went and got himself circumcised and became a Jew.

The head of Holofernes was hung from the highest place on the wall. At the first light of dawn, the warriors went out of the city and took up positions on both ridges of the valley overlooking the Assyrian camp. Then, as Judith had instructed, each man smote his spear upon his shield, making a great clamor. And the trumpeters blew great blasts upon their horns. The Assyrian camp awoke. The captains rushed to the camp of Holofernes, crying, “They attack! They attack!”

The men burst into his tent. They gaped in dismay. The canopy had been stripped from its pillars. The table was overturned. Spilt wine mixed with blood. The headless body of their captain lay sprawled among the litter.

“It is the strange god!” they cried to one another. “The invisible god of the Hebrews. He has struck in the night, lifting our captain’s head from his body.”

They were seized by a great fear. Panic spread like wildfire among the men of the Assyrian host. It infected the animals. Camels plunged, breaking their lines. Horses fled from those who would saddle them. Cattle stampeded. And the men stampeded like cattle, rushing out of their camp, out of the valley, fleeing north, fleeing east. The men of Israel pursued and cut them down as they fled.

The men returned and unstopped the springs at the base of the mountain. The fountains of Beth-el flowed again; the cisterns filled.

The elders went to Judith’s house, bearing loot from the sacked camp, for they wished to give her the greatest share of it. They gave her what was taken from the tent of Holofernes, silver and gold plate, his silks and his jewels, and said to her: “You are the exaltation of Israel; you are the rejoicing of our nation.”

Judith parceled out the gold and silver plate and the silk and jewels among the women of Beth-el. The canopy and the curved sword of Holofernes she gave as relics to the temple. The women blessed her and swept her into a dance. They put a garland of olive leaves upon her head. She held an olive branch as she danced. She danced in the street and all the women danced, following her. The men joined, dancing in their armor, with garlands on their heads and song in their mouths. Achior came to Judith and danced with her.

The end of the story is lost in the mists of time. Some say that Judith remained a widow all her days. Others say that she married Achior and lived to be a hundred and five years old, thus attaining widowhood again. But all the tales agree that, widow or wife, Judith was honored throughout Israel. In the years to come there were to be other invasions, other defeats, other victories. But the Assyrians never came again. Their power was broken forever.

The King’s Dream

N
EBUCHADNEZZAR, KING OF
Babylon, was a mighty warrior and had conquered most of the world. Now he invaded Judah and laid siege to Jerusalem. And the king of Judah was a weak and empty man who ignored God’s word and broke His statutes, and the people had followed him. The spirit of the Lord had departed from the children of Israel. Their hearts were without valor and their arms without strength. Jerusalem fell.

The troops of Nebuchadnezzar violated the temple and took certain golden vessels, cups, and ewers, which were used in the sacred ceremonies, and bore them off to the king’s treasure house. The king spoke to his chief officer, saying, “You have brought me gold and silver and gems, but have not possessed yourself of the Hebrews’ greatest treasure, which is their secret wisdom. I need this wisdom; my wise men have lost theirs. My sorcerers do no sorcery. My astrologers read no special meaning in the pattern of the stars. We need new knowledge, new magic. Now, there are those among the Hebrews who are masters of sorcery, who delve into hidden places and who read dreams—who divine secrets, raise demons, do marvels. Go, then, among their young princes and those of the king’s seed, and choose me the worthiest of these youths—those without blemish, well favored, and wise beyond their years. We will take them to Babylon and train them to be kings’ counselors, and teach them the tongue of the Chaldeans.”

The cream of Israel’s youth was taken to Babylon. There another selection was made, and the best of these were separated. They received meat from the king’s own table and wine from his bottles. They received special teaching for three years. And of these selected youths there were four who shone among the rest. Their names were Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. Of these four Daniel was the leader.

The head eunuch who was in charge of the young men called Daniel to him and inquired the meaning of these names. Daniel answered, “My name, Daniel, means ‘God is my judge.’ Hananiah means ‘God has been gracious.’ Mishael means ‘Who is equal to God?’ Azariah means ‘God has helped.’ ”

“The king wishes you to take Babylonian names,” said the head eunuch. “It will be difficult to find those as elevated as your own, but I shall try. You, Daniel, will take the name of Belteshazzar. Do you know what that means?”

“A prince of Baal,” said Daniel. Rage bit him at the sound of the name, but he allowed none of it to show. For Baal was a stone idol and the name was an abomination to Daniel.

“Hearken to me,” said the eunuch. “These shall be the names of your three friends, and you may inform them of the change: Hananiah shall be named Shadrach. Mishael’s name shall be Meshach. And Azariah shall now be called Abednego. Is it all clear? Very well, Belteshazzar, you may go and tell your friends the good news. And it is very good news. It means the king has deigned to notice you.”

“My gratitude is too great for utterance,” said Daniel. “And I know that the others will feel the same.”

Daniel went to the others and told them their new names. They were all sorely grieved, for each of the names was an abomination. Shadrach meant “servant of the moon.” Meshach meant “shadow of the prince.” And Abednego meant “servant of Ishtar,” nymph goddess of midsummer and mistress of orgies.

Daniel said: “Let us be of good cheer. We know our names. God, who is the theme of our names, knows them. We are captives in Babylon, despite the princeliness of our raiment and our royal fare, and these names are part of the ceremonies of defeat. But if our bodies are captive, our hearts and minds belong to us and cannot be taken. And our own names—to be spoken in secret and among us only—these names, whose syllables proclaim God, shall be like another prayer to us, pleasing to the Almighty.”

Nevertheless, Daniel was angered by these Babylonian names, and that night questioned God more earnestly. And he received an answer. The next day he went to the head eunuch and said: “I would ask a boon.”

“If it is in my power, I will grant it,” said the eunuch, who esteemed Daniel. “Speak.”

“Please withhold the king’s portion of meat and wine, and allow us to subsist on our own simple fare.”

“You turn back delicacies from the royal table?” exclaimed the eunuch in horror. “You will offend the king!”

“On the contrary, our one wish is to serve the king,” said Daniel. “The king, in his graciousness, is training us to be counselors. Now, among us wisdom comes from God. He grants it only to those who are pure in spirit. And our God views the body as the temple of the spirit. We must keep our bodies pure, also. Food is a sacrament to us. Certain food defiles us, and clouds our wits. Allow us our simple fare, I pray you. It will strengthen us for the king’s purpose.”

“But what will you eat? What is this simple fare?”

“Bread and herbs, chiefly. Honey. Cheese. Milk, water. But scant portions of all.”

“A starvation diet!” cried the eunuch, who was fat. “You will waste away without meat and wine. The king will see you looking less comely than is your wont, and he will strike the head from my body.”

“Let it come to proof, then,” said Daniel. “Allow us to feed ourselves in our own way for ten days. If our appearance has suffered after ten days, then we shall partake again of the royal fare.”

“So be it,” said the eunuch.

Daniel and his friends ate their own food for ten days. At the end of this time, the eunuch called them to him and was amazed at their appearance. They were radiant with health, and had lost no weight. “Well, you seem to flourish on that cattle fodder,” said the eunuch. “I shall never understand you Hebrews. Eat what you like.”

Nevertheless, he feared to inform the king of this and ate the meat that had been intended for them, and drank the wine, and grew fatter than ever.

Now, it came to pass that Nebuchadnezzar dreamed a dream and was very troubled. He called together his magicians and astrologers and soothsayers and the wise men of the Chaldeans, and said: “I have dreamed a dream that troubles me. Tell me its meaning.”

And the eldest of the sorcerers said: “Tell us your dream, O King, and we will tell you its meaning.”

“I have forgotten the dream,” said the king. “But all of you here are supposed to know things that other men do not know. I have honored you and made you rich for this special knowledge. I have forgotten my dream. It has gone from me. But it was full of terror and I want to know its meaning. You must tell me what I dreamed and then tell me what it means.”