But no time is lost; the spectacle does not make the action halt for a moment.

Sheba makes her gifts and uncovers her face, and at once we are confronted by the tragical element, and the action rushes on toward its legitimate and mournful end.
In this ingenious blending of play and spectacle one rare opportunity after another is presented to the composer.

Sulamith's epithalamium, Assad's narrative, the choral greeting to the Queen, the fateful recognition--all these things are made for music of the inspiring, swelling, passionate kind.

In the second act, the Queen's monologue, her duet with Assad, and, most striking of all, the unaccompanied bit of singing with which Astaroth lures Assad into the presence of the Queen, who is hiding in the shadow of broad-leaved palms behind a running fountain--a melodic phrase saturated with the mystical color of the East--these are gifts of the rarest kind to the composer, which he has enriched to give them in turn to the public.

That relief from their stress of passion is necessary is not forgotten, but is provided in the ballet music and the solemn ceremonial in the temple, which takes place amid surroundings that call into active operation one's childhood fancies touching the sacred fane on Mount Moriah and the pompous liturgical functions of which it was the theatre.
Goldmark's music is highly spiced.