{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_2145/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_2145","id":"gutenberg_2145","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2145","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. New Testament -- History of Biblical events -- Fiction","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Christian fiction","Historical Fiction","Historical fiction","Jesus Christ -- Fiction","Movie Books","Rome -- History -- Tiberius, 14-37 -- Fiction","Tiberius, Emperor of Rome 42 B.C.-37 A.D. -- Fiction"],"text":"Ben-Hur\n\nA Tale of the Christ\n\nby Lew Wallace\n\n\n\n\nto\nTHE WIFE OF MY YOUTH\nwho\nstill abides with me\n\n\nContents\n\n BOOK FIRST\n I. Into the Desert\n II. Meeting of the Wise Men\n III. The Athenian Speaks\u2014Faith\n IV. Speech of the Hindoo\u2014Love\n V. The Egyptian\u2019s Story\u2014Good Works\n VI. The Joppa Gate\n VII. Typical Characters at the Joppa Gate\n VIII. Joseph and Mary Going to Bethlehem\n IX. The Cave at Bethlehem\n X. The Light in the Sky\n XI. Christ is Born\n XII. The Wise Men Arrive at Jerusalem\n XIII. The Witnesses before Herod\n XIV. The Wise Men Find the Child\n\n BOOK SECOND\n I. Jerusalem under the Romans\n II. Ben-Hur and Messala\n III. A Judean Home\n IV. The Strange Things Ben-Hur Wants to Know\n V. Rome and Israel\u2014A Comparison\n VI. The Accident to Gratus\n VII. A Galley Slave\n\n BOOK THIRD\n I. Quintus Arrius Goes to Sea\n II. At the Oar\n III. Arrius and Ben-Hur on Deck\n IV. \u201cNo. 60\u201d\n V. The Sea Fight\n VI. Arrius Adopts Ben-Hur\n\n BOOK FOURTH\n I. Ben-Hur Returns East\n II. On the Orontes\n III. The Demand on Simonides\n IV. Simonides and Esther\n V. The Grove of Daphne\n VI. The Mulberries of Daphne\n VII. The Stadium in the Grove\n VIII. The Fountain of Castalia\n IX. The Chariot Race Discussed\n X. Ben-Hur Hears of Christ\n XI. The Wise Servant and his Daughter\n XII. A Roman Orgie\n XIII. A Driver for Ilderim\u2019s Arabs\n XIV. The Dowar in the Orchard or Palms\n XV. Balthasar Impresses Ben-Hur\n XVI. Christ is Coming\u2014Balthasar\n XVII. The Kingdom\u2014Spiritual or Political?\n\n BOOK FIFTH\n I. Messala Doffs his Chaplet\n II. Ilderim\u2019s Arabs under the Yoke\n III. The Arts of Cleopatra\n IV. Messala on Guard\n V. Ilderim and Ben-Hur Deliberate\n VI. Training the Four\n VII. Simonides Renders Account\n VIII. Spiritual or Political?\u2014Simonides Argues\n IX. Esther and Ben-Hur\n X. Posted for the Race\n XI. Making the Wagers\n XII. The Circus\n XIII. The Start\n XIV. The Race\n XV. The Invitation of Iras\n XVI. In the Palace of Idernee\n\n BOOK SIXTH\n I. The Tower of Antonia\u2014Cell No. VI.\n II. The Lepers\n III. Jerusalem Again\n IV. Ben-Hur at his Father\u2019s Gate\n V. The Tomb Above the King\u2019s Garden\n VI. A Trick of Pilate\u2019s\u2014The Combat\n\n BOOK SEVENTH\n I. Jerusalem Goes out to a Prophet\n II. Nooning by the Pool\u2014Iras\n III. The Life of a Soul\n IV. Ben-Hur Keeps Watch with Iras\n V. At Bethabara\n\n BOOK EIGHTH\n I. Guests in the House of Hur\n II. Ben-Hur Tells of the Nazarene\n III. The Lepers Leave their Tomb\n IV. The Miracle\n V. Pilgrims to the Passover\n VI. A Serpent of the Nile\n VII. Ben-Hur Returns to Esther\n VIII. Gethsemane\u2014\u201cWhom Seek Ye?\u201d\n IX. The Going to Calvary\n X. The Crucifixion\n\n\n\n\nBOOK FIRST\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe Jebel es Zubleh is a mountain fifty miles and more in length, and\nso narrow that its tracery on the map gives it a likeness to a\ncaterpillar crawling from the south to the north. Standing on its\nred-and-white cliffs, and looking off under the path of the rising sun,\none sees only the Desert of Arabia, where the east winds, so hateful to\nvinegrowers of Jericho, have kept their playgrounds since the\nbeginning. Its feet are well covered by sands tossed from the\nEuphrates, there to lie, for the mountain is a wall to the\npasture-lands of Moab and Ammon on the west\u2014lands which else had been\nof the desert a part.\n\nThe Arab has impressed his language upon everything south and east of\nJudea, so, in his tongue, the old Jebel is the parent of numberless\nwadies which, intersecting the Roman road\u2014now a dim suggestion of what\nonce it was, a dusty path for Syrian pilgrims to and from Mecca\u2014run\ntheir furrows, deepening as they go, to pass the torrents of the rainy\nseason into the Jordan, or their last receptacle, the Dead Sea. Out of\none of these wadies\u2014or, more particularly, out of that one which rises\nat the extreme end of the Jebel, and, extending east of north, becomes\nat length the bed of the Jabbok River\u2014a traveller passed, going to the\ntable-lands of the desert. To this person the attention of the reader\nis first besought.\n\nJudged by his appearance, he was quite forty-five years old. His beard,\nonce of the deepest black, flowing broadly over his breast, was\nstreaked with white. His face was brown as a parched coffee-berry, and\nso hidden by a red _kufiyeh_ (as the kerchief of the head is at this\nday called by the children of the desert) as to be but in part visible.\nNow and then he raised his eyes, and they were large and dark. He was\nclad in the flowing garments so universal in the East; but their style\nmay not be described more particularly, for he sat under a miniature\ntent, and rode a great white dromedary.\n\nIt may be doubted if the people of the West ever overcome the\nimpression made upon them by the first view of a camel equipped and\nloaded for the desert. Custom, so fatal to other novelties, affects\nthis feeling but little. At the end of long journeys with caravans,\nafter years of residence with the Bedawin, the Western-born, wherever\nthey may be, will stop and wait the passing of the stately brute. The\ncharm is not in the figure, which not even love can make beautiful; nor\nin the movement, the noiseless stepping, or the broad careen. As is the\nkindness of the sea to a ship, so that of the desert to its creature.\nIt clothes him with all its mysteries; in such manner, too, that while\nwe are looking at him we are thinking of them: therein is the wonder.\nThe animal which now came out of the wady might well have claimed the\ncustomary homage. Its color and height; its breadth of foot; its bulk\nof body, not fat, but overlaid with muscle; its long, slender neck, of\nswanlike curvature; the head, wide between the eyes, and tapering to a\nmuzzle which a lady\u2019s bracelet might have almost clasped; its motion,\nstep long and elastic, tread sure and soundless\u2014all certified its\nSyrian blood, old as the days of Cyrus, and absolutely priceless. There\nwas the usual bridle, covering the forehead with scarlet fringe, and\ngarnishing the throat with pendent brazen chains, each ending with a\ntinkling silver bell; but to the bridle there was neither rein for the\nrider nor strap for a driver. The furniture perched on the back was an\ninvention which with any other people than of the East would have made\nthe inventor renowned. It consisted of two wooden boxes, scarce four\nfeet in length, balanced so that one hung at each side; the inner\nspace, softly lined and carpeted, was arranged to allow the master to\nsit or lie half reclined; over it all was stretched a green awning.\nBroad back and breast straps, and girths, secured with countless knots\nand ties, held the device in place. In such manner the ingenious sons\nof Cush had contrived to make comfortable the sunburnt ways of the\nwilderness, along which lay their duty as often as their pleasure.\n\nWhen the dromedary lifted itself out of the last break of the wady, the\ntraveller had passed the boundary of El Belka, the ancient Ammon. It\nwas morning-time. Before him was the sun, half curtained in fleecy\nmist; before him also spread the desert; not the realm of drifting\nsands, which was farther on, but the region where the herbage began to\ndwarf; where the surface is strewn with boulders of granite, and gray\nand brown stones, interspersed with languishing acacias and tufts of\ncamel-grass. The oak, bramble, and arbutus lay behind, as if they had\ncome to a line, looked over into the well-less waste and crouched with\nfear.\n\nAnd now there was an end of path or road. More than ever the camel\nseemed insensibly driven; it lengthened and quickened its pace, its\nhead pointed straight towards the horizon; through the wide nostrils it\ndrank the wind in great draughts. The litter swayed, and rose and fell\nlike a boat in the waves. Dried leaves in occasional beds rustled\nunderfoot. Sometimes a perfume like absinthe sweetened all the air.\nLark and chat and rock-swallow leaped to wing, and white partridges ran\nwhistling and clucking out of the way. More rarely a fox or a hyena\nquickened his gallop, to study the intruders at a safe distance. Off to\nthe right rose the hills of the Jebel, the pearl-gray veil resting upon\nthem changing momentarily into a purple which the sun would make\nmatchless a little later. Over their highest peaks a vulture sailed on\nbroad wings into widening circles. But of all these things the tenant\nunder the green tent saw nothing, or, at least, made no sign of\nrecognition. His eyes were fixed and dreamy. The going of the man, like\nthat of the animal, was as one being led.\n\nFor two hours the dromedary swung forward, keeping the trot steadily\nand the line due east. In that time the traveller never changed his\nposition, nor looked to the right or left. On the desert, distance is\nnot measured by miles or leagues, but by the _saat_, or hour, and the\n_manzil_, or halt: three and a half leagues fill the former, fifteen or\ntwenty-five the latter; but they are the rates for the common camel. A\ncarrier of the genuine Syrian stock can make three leagues easily. At\nfull speed he overtakes the ordinary winds. As one of the results of\nthe rapid advance, the face of the landscape underwent a change. The\nJebel stretched along the western horizon, like a pale-blue ribbon. A\n_tell_, or hummock of clay and cemented sand, arose here and there. Now\nand then basaltic stones lifted their round crowns, outposts of the\nmountain against the forces of the plain; all else, however, was sand,\nsometimes smooth as the beaten beach, then heaped in rolling ridges;\nhere chopped waves, there long swells. So, too, the condition of the\natmosphere changed. The sun, high risen, had drunk his fill of dew and\nmist, and warmed the breeze that kissed the wanderer under the awning;\nfar and near he was tinting the earth with faint milk-whiteness, and\nshimmering all the sky.\n\nTwo hours more passed without rest or deviation from the course.\nVegetation entirely ceased. The sand, so crusted on the surface that it\nbroke into rattling flakes at every step, held undisputed sway. The\nJebel was out of view, and there was no landmark visible. The shadow\nthat before followed had now shifted to the north, and was keeping even\nrace with the objects which cast it; and as there was no sign of\nhalting, the conduct of the traveller became each moment more strange.\n\nNo one, be it remembered, seeks the desert for a pleasure-ground. Life\nand business traverse it by paths along which the bones of things dead\nare strewn as so many blazons. Such are the roads from well to well,\nfrom pasture to pasture. The heart of the most veteran sheik beats\nquicker when he finds himself alone in the pathless tracts. So the man\nwith whom we are dealing could not have been in search of pleasure;\nneither was his manner that of a fugitive; not once did he look behind\nhim. In such situations fear and curiosity are the most common\nsensations; he was not moved by them. When men are lonely, they stoop\nto any companionship; the dog becomes a comrade, the horse a friend,\nand it is no shame to shower them with caresses and speeches of love.\nThe camel received no such token, not a touch, not a word.\n\nExactly at noon the dromedary, of its own will, stopped, and uttered\nthe cry or moan, peculiarly piteous, by which its kind always protest\nagainst an overload, and sometimes crave attention and rest. The master\nthereupon bestirred himself, waking, as it were, from sleep. He threw\nthe curtains of the _houdah_ up, looked at the sun, surveyed the\ncountry on every side long and carefully, as if to identify an\nappointed place. Satisfied with the inspection, he drew a deep breath\nand nodded, much as to say, \u201cAt last, at last!\u201d A moment after, he\ncrossed his hands upon his breast, bowed his head, and prayed silently.\nThe pious duty done, he prepared to dismount. From his throat proceeded\nthe sound heard doubtless by the favorite camels of Job\u2014_Ikh! ikh!_\u2014the\nsignal to kneel. Slowly the animal obeyed, grunting the while. The\nrider then put his foot upon the slender neck, and stepped upon the\nsand.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nThe man as now revealed was of admirable proportions, not so tall as\npowerful. Loosening the silken rope which held the kufiyeh on his head,\nhe brushed the fringed folds back until his face was bare\u2014a strong\nface, almost negro in color; yet the low, broad forehead, aquiline\nnose, the outer corners of the eyes turned slightly upward, the hair\nprofuse, straight, harsh, of metallic lustre, and falling to the\nshoulder in many plaits, were signs of origin impossible to disguise.\nSo looked the Pharaohs and the later Ptolemies; so looked Mizraim,\nfather of the Egyptian race. He wore the kamis, a white cotton shirt\ntight-sleeved, open in front, extending to the ankles and embroidered\ndown the collar and breast, over which was thrown a brown woollen\ncloak, now, as in all probability it was then, called the aba, an outer\ngarment with long skirt and short sleeves, lined inside with stuff of\nmixed cotton and silk, edged all round with a margin of clouded yellow.\nHis feet were protected by sandals, attached by thongs of soft leather.\nA sash held the kamis to his waist. What was very noticeable,\nconsidering he was alone, and that the desert was the haunt of leopards\nand lions, and men quite as wild, he carried no arms, not even the\ncrooked stick used for guiding camels; wherefore we may at least infer\nhis errand peaceful, and that he was either uncommonly bold or under\nextraordinary protection.\n\nThe traveller\u2019s limbs were numb, for the ride had been long and\nwearisome; so he rubbed his hands and stamped his feet, and walked\nround the faithful servant, whose lustrous eyes were closing in calm\ncontent with the cud he had already found. Often, while making the\ncircuit, he paused, and, shading his eyes with his hands, examined the\ndesert to the extremest verge of vision; and always, when the survey\nwas ended, his face clouded with disappointment, slight, but enough to\nadvise a shrewd spectator that he was there expecting company, if not\nby appointment; at the same time, the spectator would have been\nconscious of a sharpening of the curiosity to learn what the business\ncould be that required transaction in a place so far from civilized\nabode.\n\nHowever disappointed, there could be little doubt of the stranger\u2019s\nconfidence in the coming of the expected company. In token thereof, he\nwent first to the litter, and, from the cot or box opposite the one he\nhad occupied in coming, produced a sponge and a small gurglet of water,\nwith which he washed the eyes, face, and nostrils of the camel; that\ndone, from the same depository he drew a circular cloth, red-and\nwhite-striped, a bundle of rods, and a stout cane. The latter, after\nsome manipulation, proved to be a cunning device of lesser joints, one\nwithin another, which, when united together, formed a centre pole\nhigher than his head. When the pole was planted, and the rods set\naround it, he spread the cloth over them, and was literally at home\u2014a\nhome much smaller than the habitations of emir and sheik, yet their\ncounterpart in all other respects. From the litter again he brought a\ncarpet or square rug, and covered the floor of the tent on the side\nfrom the sun. That done, he went out, and once more, and with greater\ncare and more eager eyes, swept the encircling country. Except a\ndistant jackal, galloping across the plain, and an eagle flying towards\nthe Gulf of Akaba, the waste below, like the blue above it, was\nlifeless.\n\nHe turned to the camel, saying low, and in a tongue strange to the\ndesert, \u201cWe are far from home, O racer with the swiftest winds\u2014we are\nfar from home, but God is with us. Let us be patient.\u201d\n\nThen he took some beans from a pocket in the saddle, and put them in a\nbag made to hang below the animal\u2019s nose; and when he saw the relish\nwith which the good servant took to the food, he turned and again\nscanned the world of sand, dim with the glow of the vertical sun.\n\n\u201cThey will come,\u201d he said, calmly. \u201cHe that led me is leading them. I\nwill make ready.\u201d\n\nFrom the pouches which lined the interior of the cot, and from a willow\nbasket which was part of its furniture, he brought forth materials for\na meal: platters close-woven of the fibres of palms; wine in small\ngurglets of skin; mutton dried and smoked; stoneless shami, or Syrian\npomegranates; dates of El Shelebi, wondrous rich and grown in the\nnakhil, or palm orchards, of Central Arabia; cheese, like David\u2019s\n\u201cslices of milk;\u201d and leavened bread from the city bakery\u2014all which he\ncarried and set upon the carpet under the tent. As the final\npreparation, about the provisions he laid three pieces of silk cloth,\nused among refined people of the East to cover the knees of guests\nwhile at table\u2014a circumstance significant of the number of persons who\nwere to partake of his entertainment\u2014the number he was awaiting.\n\nAll was now ready. He stepped out: lo! in the east a dark speck on the\nface of the desert. He stood as if rooted to the ground; his eyes\ndilated; his flesh crept chilly, as if touched by something\nsupernatural. The speck grew; became large as a hand; at length assumed\ndefined proportions. A little later, full into view swung a duplication\nof his own dromedary, tall and white, and bearing a houdah, the\ntravelling litter of Hindostan. Then the Egyptian crossed his hands\nupon his breast, and looked to heaven.\n\n\u201cGod only is great!\u201d he exclaimed, his eyes full of tears, his soul in\nawe.\n\nThe stranger drew nigh\u2014at last stopped. Then he, too, seemed just\nwaking. He beheld the kneeling camel, the tent, and the man standing\nprayerfully at the door. He crossed his hands, bent his head, and\nprayed silently; after which, in a little while, he stepped from his\ncamel\u2019s neck to the sand, and advanced towards the Egyptian, as did the\nEgyptian towards him. A moment they looked at each other; then they\nembraced\u2014that is, each threw his right arm over the other\u2019s shoulder,\nand the left round the side, placing his chin first upon the left, then\nupon the right breast.\n\n\u201cPeace be with thee, O servant of the true God!\u201d the stranger said.\n\n\u201cAnd to thee, O brother of the true faith!\u2014to thee peace and welcome,\u201d\nthe Egyptian replied, with fervor.\n\nThe new-comer was tall and gaunt, with lean face, sunken eyes, white\nhair and beard, and a complexion between the hue of cinnamon and\nbronze. He, too, was unarmed. His costume was Hindostani; over the\nskull-cap a shawl was wound in great folds, forming a turban; his body\ngarments were in the style of the Egyptian\u2019s, except that the aba was\nshorter, exposing wide flowing breeches gathered at the ankles. In\nplace of sandals, his feet were clad in half-slippers of red leather,\npointed at the toes. Save the slippers, the costume from head to foot\nwas of white linen. The air of the man was high, stately, severe.\nVisvamitra, the greatest of the ascetic heroes of the Iliad of the\nEast, had in him a perfect representative. He might have been called a\nLife drenched with the wisdom of Brahma\u2014Devotion Incarnate. Only in his\neyes was there proof of humanity; when he lifted his face from the\nEgyptian\u2019s breast, they were glistening with tears.\n\n\u201cGod only is great!\u201d he exclaimed, when the embrace was finished.\n\n\u201cAnd blessed are they that serve him!\u201d the Egyptian answered, wondering\nat the paraphrase of his own exclamation. \u201cBut let us wait,\u201d he added,\n\u201clet us wait; for see, the other comes yonder!\u201d\n\nThey looked to the north, where, already plain to view, a third camel,\nof the whiteness of the others, came careening like a ship. They\nwaited, standing together\u2014waited until the new-comer arrived,\ndismounted, and advanced towards them.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, O my brother!\u201d he said, while embracing the Hindoo.\n\nAnd the Hindoo answered, \u201cGod\u2019s will be done!\u201d\n\nThe last comer was all unlike his friends: his frame was slighter; his\ncomplexion white; a mass of waving light hair was a perfect crown for\nhis small but beautiful head; the warmth of his dark-blue eyes\ncertified a delicate mind, and a cordial, brave nature. He was\nbareheaded and unarmed. Under the folds of the Tyrian blanket which he\nwore with unconscious grace appeared a tunic, short-sleeved and\nlow-necked, gathered to the waist by a band, and reaching nearly to the\nknee; leaving the neck, arms, and legs bare. Sandals guarded his feet.\nFifty years, probably more, had spent themselves upon him, with no\nother effect, apparently, than to tinge his demeanor with gravity and\ntemper his words with forethought. The physical organization and the\nbrightness of soul were untouched. No need to tell the student from\nwhat kindred he was sprung; if he came not himself from the groves of\nAthene\u2019, his ancestry did.\n\nWhen his arms fell from the Egyptian, the latter said, with a tremulous\nvoice, \u201cThe Spirit brought me first; wherefore I know myself chosen to\nbe the servant of my brethren. The tent is set, and the bread is ready\nfor the breaking. Let me perform my office.\u201d\n\nTaking each by the hand, he led them within, and removed their sandals\nand washed their feet, and he poured water upon their hands, and dried\nthem with napkins.\n\nThen, when he had laved his own hands, he said, \u201cLet us take care of\nourselves, brethren, as our service requires, and eat, that we may be\nstrong for what remains of the day\u2019s duty. While we eat, we will each\nlearn who the others are, and whence they come, and how they are\ncalled.\u201d\n\nHe took them to the repast, and seated them so that they faced each\nother. Simultaneously their heads bent forward, their hands crossed\nupon their breasts, and, speaking together, they said aloud this simple\ngrace:\n\n\u201cFather of all\u2014God!\u2014what we have here is of thee; take our thanks and\nbless us, that we may continue to do thy will.\u201d\n\nWith the last word they raised their eyes, and looked at each other in\nwonder. Each had spoken in a language never before heard by the others;\nyet each understood perfectly what was said. Their souls thrilled with\ndivine emotion; for by the miracle they recognized the Divine Presence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nTo speak in the style of the period, the meeting just described took\nplace in the year of Rome 747. The month was December, and winter\nreigned over all the regions east of the Mediterranean. Such as ride\nupon the desert in this season go not far until smitten with a keen\nappetite. The company under the little tent were not exceptions to the\nrule. They were hungry, and ate heartily; and, after the wine, they\ntalked.\n\n\u201cTo a wayfarer in a strange land nothing is so sweet as to hear his\nname on the tongue of a friend,\u201d said the Egyptian, who assumed to be\npresident of the repast. \u201cBefore us lie many days of companionship. It\nis time we knew each other. So, if it be agreeable, he who came last\nshall be first to speak.\u201d\n\nThen, slowly at first, like one watchful of himself, the Greek began:\n\n\u201cWhat I have to tell, my brethren, is so strange that I hardly know\nwhere to begin or what I may with propriety speak. I do not yet\nunderstand myself. The most I am sure of is that I am doing a Master\u2019s\nwill, and that the service is a constant ecstasy. When I think of the\npurpose I am sent to fulfil, there is in me a joy so inexpressible that\nI know the will is God\u2019s.\u201d\n\nThe good man paused, unable to proceed, while the others, in sympathy\nwith his feelings, dropped their gaze.\n\n\u201cFar to the west of this,\u201d he began again, \u201cthere is a land which may\nnever be forgotten; if only because the world is too much its debtor,\nand because the indebtedness is for things that bring to men their\npurest pleasures. I will say nothing of the arts, nothing of\nphilosophy, of eloquence, of poetry, of war: O my brethren, hers is the\nglory which must shine forever in perfected letters, by which He we go\nto find and proclaim will be made known to all the earth. The land I\nspeak of is Greece. I am Gaspar, son of Cleanthes the Athenian.\n\n\u201cMy people,\u201d he continued, \u201cwere given wholly to study, and from them I\nderived the same passion. It happens that two of our philosophers, the\nvery greatest of the many, teach, one the doctrine of a Soul in every\nman, and its Immortality; the other the doctrine of One God, infinitely\njust. From the multitude of subjects about which the schools were\ndisputing, I separated them, as alone worth the labor of solution; for\nI thought there was a relation between God and the soul as yet unknown.\nOn this theme the mind can reason to a point, a dead, impassable wall;\narrived there, all that remains is to stand and cry aloud for help. So\nI did; but no voice came to me over the wall. In despair, I tore myself\nfrom the cities and the schools.\u201d\n\nAt these words a grave smile of approval lighted the gaunt face of the\nHindoo.\n\n\u201cIn the northern part of my country\u2014in Thessaly,\u201d the Greek proceeded\nto say, \u201cthere is a mountain famous as the home of the gods, where\nTheus, whom my countrymen believe supreme, has his abode; Olympus is\nits name. Thither I betook myself. I found a cave in a hill where the\nmountain, coming from the west, bends to the southeast; there I dwelt,\ngiving myself up to meditation\u2014no, I gave myself up to waiting for what\nevery breath was a prayer\u2014for revelation. Believing in God, invisible\nyet supreme, I also believed it possible so to yearn for him with all\nmy soul that he would take compassion and give me answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he did\u2014he did!\u201d exclaimed the Hindoo, lifting his hands from the\nsilken cloth upon his lap.\n\n\u201cHear me, brethren,\u201d said the Greek, calming himself with an effort.\n\u201cThe door of my hermitage looks over an arm of the sea, over the\nThermaic Gulf. One day I saw a man flung overboard from a ship sailing\nby. He swam ashore. I received and took care of him. He was a Jew,\nlearned in the history and laws of his people; and from him I came to\nknow that the God of my prayers did indeed exist; and had been for ages\ntheir lawmaker, ruler, and king. What was that but the Revelation I\ndreamed of? My faith had not been fruitless; God answered me!\u201d\n\n\u201cAs he does all who cry to him with such faith,\u201d said the Hindoo.\n\n\u201cBut, alas!\u201d the Egyptian added, \u201chow few are there wise enough to know\nwhen he answers them!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was not all,\u201d the Greek continued. \u201cThe man so sent to me told me\nmore. He said the prophets who, in the ages which followed the first\nrevelation, walked and talked with God, declared he would come again.\nHe gave me the names of the prophets, and from the sacred books quoted\ntheir very language. He told me, further, that the second coming was at\nhand\u2014was looked for momentarily in Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nThe Greek paused, and the brightness of his countenance faded.\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d he said, after a little\u2014\u201cit is true the man told me that\nas God and the revelation of which he spoke had been for the Jews\nalone, so it would be again. He that was to come should be King of the\nJews. \u2018Had he nothing for the rest of the world?\u2019 I asked. \u2018No,\u2019 was\nthe answer, given in a proud voice\u2014\u2018No, we are his chosen people.\u2019 The\nanswer did not crush my hope. Why should such a God limit his love and\nbenefaction to one land, and, as it were, to one family? I set my heart\nupon knowing. At last I broke through the man\u2019s pride, and found that\nhis fathers had been merely chosen servants to keep the Truth alive,\nthat the world might at last know it and be saved. When the Jew was\ngone, and I was alone again, I chastened my soul with a new prayer\u2014that\nI might be permitted to see the King when he was come, and worship him.\nOne night I sat by the door of my cave trying to get nearer the\nmysteries of my existence, knowing which is to know God; suddenly, on\nthe sea below me, or rather in the darkness that covered its face, I\nsaw a star begin to burn; slowly it arose and drew nigh, and stood over\nthe hill and above my door, so that its light shone full upon me. I\nfell down, and slept, and in my dream I heard a voice say:\n\n\u201c\u2018O Gaspar! Thy faith hath conquered! Blessed art thou! With two\nothers, come from the uttermost parts of the earth, thou shalt see Him\nthat is promised, and be a witness for him, and the occasion of\ntestimony in his behalf. In the morning arise, and go meet them, and\nkeep trust in the Spirit that shall guide thee.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd in the morning I awoke with the Spirit as a light within me\nsurpassing that of the sun. I put off my hermit\u2019s garb, and dressed\nmyself as of old. From a hiding-place I took the treasure which I had\nbrought from the city. A ship went sailing past. I hailed it, was taken\naboard, and landed at Antioch. There I bought the camel and his\nfurniture. Through the gardens and orchards that enamel the banks of\nthe Orontes, I journeyed to Emesa, Damascus, Bostra, and Philadelphia;\nthence hither. And so, O brethren, you have my story. Let me now listen\nto you.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nThe Egyptian and the Hindoo looked at each other; the former waved his\nhand; the latter bowed, and began:\n\n\u201cOur brother has spoken well. May my words be as wise.\u201d\n\nHe broke off, reflected a moment, then resumed:\n\n\u201cYou may know me, brethren, by the name of Melchior. I speak to you in\na language which, if not the oldest in the world, was at least the\nsoonest to be reduced to letters\u2014I mean the Sanscrit of India. I am a\nHindoo by birth. My people were the first to walk in the fields of\nknowledge, first to divide them, first to make them beautiful. Whatever\nmay hereafter befall, the four Vedas must live, for they are the primal\nfountains of religion and useful intelligence. From them were derived\nthe Upa-Vedas, which, delivered by Brahma, treat of medicine, archery,\narchitecture, music, and the four-and-sixty mechanical arts; the\nVed-Angas, revealed by inspired saints, and devoted to astronomy,\ngrammar, prosody, pronunciation, charms and incantations, religious\nrites and ceremonies; the Up-Angas, written by the sage Vyasa, and\ngiven to cosmogony, chronology, and geography; therein also are the\nRamayana and the Mahabharata, heroic poems, designed for the\nperpetuation of our gods and demi-gods. Such, O brethren, are the Great\nShastras, or books of sacred ordinances. They are dead to me now; yet\nthrough all time they will serve to illustrate the budding genius of my\nrace. They were promises of quick perfection. Ask you why the promises\nfailed? Alas! the books themselves closed all the gates of progress.\nUnder pretext of care for the creature, their authors imposed the fatal\nprinciple that a man must not address himself to discovery or\ninvention, as Heaven had provided him all things needful. When that\ncondition became a sacred law, the lamp of Hindoo genius was let down a\nwell, where ever since it has lighted narrow walls and bitter waters.\n\n\u201cThese allusions, brethren, are not from pride, as you will understand\nwhen I tell you that the Shastras teach a Supreme God called Brahm;\nalso, that the Puranas, or sacred poems of the Up-Angas, tell us of\nVirtue and Good Works, and of the Soul. So, if my brother will permit\nthe saying\u201d\u2014the speaker bowed deferentially to the Greek\u2014\u201cages before\nhis people were known, the two great ideas, God and the Soul, had\nabsorbed all the forces of the Hindoo mind. In further explanation let\nme say that Brahm is taught, by the same sacred books, as a\nTriad\u2014Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. Of these, Brahma is said to have been\nthe author of our race; which, in course of creation, he divided into\nfour castes. First, he peopled the worlds below and the heavens above;\nnext, he made the earth ready for terrestrial spirits; then from his\nmouth proceeded the Brahman caste, nearest in likeness to himself,\nhighest and noblest, sole teachers of the Vedas, which at the same time\nflowed from his lips in finished state, perfect in all useful\nknowledge. From his arms next issued the Kshatriya, or warriors; from\nhis breast, the seat of life, came the Vaisya, or producers\u2014shepherds,\nfarmers, merchants; from his foot, in sign of degradation, sprang the\nSudra, or serviles, doomed to menial duties for the other\nclasses\u2014serfs, domestics, laborers, artisans. Take notice, further,\nthat the law, so born with them, forbade a man of one caste becoming a\nmember of another; the Brahman could not enter a lower order; if he\nviolated the laws of his own grade, he became an outcast, lost to all\nbut outcasts like himself.\u201d\n\nAt this point, the imagination of the Greek, flashing forward upon all\nthe consequences of such a degradation, overcame his eager attention,\nand he exclaimed, \u201cIn such a state, O brethren, what mighty need of a\nloving God!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d added the Egyptian, \u201cof a loving God like ours.\u201d\n\nThe brows of the Hindoo knit painfully; when the emotion was spent, he\nproceeded, in a softened voice.\n\n\u201cI was born a Brahman. My life, consequently, was ordered down to its\nleast act, its last hour. My first draught of nourishment; the giving\nme my compound name; taking me out the first time to see the sun;\ninvesting me with the triple thread by which I became one of the\ntwice-born; my induction into the first order\u2014were all celebrated with\nsacred texts and rigid ceremonies. I might not walk, eat, drink, or\nsleep without danger of violating a rule. And the penalty, O brethren,\nthe penalty was to my soul! According to the degrees of omission, my\nsoul went to one of the heavens\u2014Indra\u2019s the lowest, Brahma\u2019s the\nhighest; or it was driven back to become the life of a worm, a fly, a\nfish, or a brute. The reward for perfect observance was Beatitude, or\nabsorption into the being of Brahm, which was not existence as much as\nabsolute rest.\u201d\n\nThe Hindoo gave himself a moment\u2019s thought; proceeding, he said: \u201cThe\npart of a Brahman\u2019s life called the first order is his student life.\nWhen I was ready to enter the second order\u2014that is to say, when I was\nready to marry and become a householder\u2014I questioned everything, even\nBrahm; I was a heretic. From the depths of the well I had discovered a\nlight above, and yearned to go up and see what all it shone upon. At\nlast\u2014ah, with what years of toil!\u2014I stood in the perfect day, and\nbeheld the principle of life, the element of religion, the link between\nthe soul and God\u2014Love!\u201d\n\nThe shrunken face of the good man kindled visibly, and he clasped his\nhands with force. A silence ensued, during which the others looked at\nhim, the Greek through tears. At length he resumed:\n\n\u201cThe happiness of love is in action; its test is what one is willing to\ndo for others. I could not rest. Brahm had filled the world with so\nmuch wretchedness. The Sudra appealed to me, so did the countless\ndevotees and victims. The island of Ganga Lagor lies where the sacred\nwaters of the Ganges disappear in the Indian Ocean. Thither I betook\nmyself. In the shade of the temple built there to the sage Kapila, in a\nunion of prayers with the disciples whom the sanctified memory of the\nholy man keeps around his house, I thought to find rest. But twice\nevery year came pilgrimages of Hindoos seeking the purification of the\nwaters. Their misery strengthened my love. Against its impulse to speak\nI clenched my jaws; for one word against Brahm or the Triad or the\nShastras would doom me; one act of kindness to the outcast Brahmans who\nnow and then dragged themselves to die on the burning sands\u2014a blessing\nsaid, a cup of water given\u2014and I became one of them, lost to family,\ncountry, privileges, caste. The love conquered! I spoke to the\ndisciples in the temple; they drove me out. I spoke to the pilgrims;\nthey stoned me from the island. On the highways I attempted to preach;\nmy hearers fled from me, or sought my life. In all India, finally,\nthere was not a place in which I could find peace or safety\u2014not even\namong the outcasts, for, though fallen, they were still believers in\nBrahm. In my extremity, I looked for a solitude in which to hide from\nall but God. I followed the Ganges to its source, far up in the\nHimalayas. When I entered the pass at Hurdwar, where the river, in\nunstained purity, leaps to its course through the muddy lowlands, I\nprayed for my race, and thought myself lost to them forever. Through\ngorges, over cliffs, across glaciers, by peaks that seemed star-high, I\nmade my way to the Lang Tso, a lake of marvellous beauty, asleep at the\nfeet of the Tise Gangri, the Gurla, and the Kailas Parbot, giants which\nflaunt their crowns of snow everlastingly in the face of the sun.\nThere, in the centre of the earth, where the Indus, Ganges, and\nBrahmapootra rise to run their different courses; where mankind took up\ntheir first abode, and separated to replete the world, leaving Balk,\nthe mother of cities, to attest the great fact; where Nature, gone back\nto its primeval condition, and secure in its immensities, invites the\nsage and the exile, with promise of safety to the one and solitude to\nthe other\u2014there I went to abide alone with God, praying, fasting,\nwaiting for death.\u201d\n\nAgain the voice fell, and the bony hands met in a fervent clasp.\n\n\u201cOne night I walked by the shores of the lake, and spoke to the\nlistening silence, \u2018When will God come and claim his own? Is there to\nbe no redemption?\u2019 Suddenly a light began to glow tremulously out on\nthe water; soon a star arose, and moved towards me, and stood overhead.\nThe brightness stunned me. While I lay upon the ground, I heard a voice\nof infinite sweetness say, \u2018Thy love hath conquered. Blessed art thou,\nO son of India! The redemption is at hand. With two others, from far\nquarters of the earth, thou shalt see the Redeemer, and be a witness\nthat he hath come. In the morning arise, and go meet them; and put all\nthy trust in the Spirit which shall guide thee.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd from that time the light has stayed with me; so I knew it was the\nvisible presence of the Spirit. In the morning I started to the world\nby the way I had come. In a cleft of the mountain I found a stone of\nvast worth, which I sold in Hurdwar. By Lahore, and Cabool, and Yezd, I\ncame to Ispahan. There I bought the camel, and thence was led to\nBagdad, not waiting for caravans. Alone I traveled, fearless, for the\nSpirit was with me, and is with me yet. What glory is ours, O brethren!\nWe are to see the Redeemer\u2014to speak to him\u2014to worship him! I am done.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nThe vivacious Greek broke forth in expressions of joy and\ncongratulations; after which the Egyptian said, with characteristic\ngravity:\n\n\u201cI salute you, my brother. You have suffered much, and I rejoice in\nyour triumph. If you are both pleased to hear me, I will now tell you\nwho I am, and how I came to be called. Wait for me a moment.\u201d\n\nHe went out and tended the camels; coming back, he resumed his seat.\n\n\u201cYour words, brethren, were of the Spirit,\u201d he said, in commencement;\n\u201cand the Spirit gives me to understand them. You each spoke\nparticularly of your countries; in that there was a great object, which\nI will explain; but to make the interpretation complete, let me first\nspeak of myself and my people. I am Balthasar the Egyptian.\u201d\n\nThe last words were spoken quietly, but with so much dignity that both\nlisteners bowed to the speaker.\n\n\u201cThere are many distinctions I might claim for my race,\u201d he continued;\n\u201cbut I will content myself with one. History began with us. We were the\nfirst to perpetuate events by records kept. So we have no traditions;\nand instead of poetry, we offer you certainty. On the facades of\npalaces and temples, on obelisks, on the inner walls of tombs, we wrote\nthe names of our kings, and what they did; and to the delicate papyri\nwe intrusted the wisdom of our philosophers and the secrets of our\nreligion\u2014all the secrets but one, whereof I will presently speak. Older\nthan the Vedas of Para-Brahm or the Up-Angas of Vyasa, O Melchior;\nolder than the songs of Homer or the metaphysics of Plato, O my Gaspar;\nolder than the sacred books or kings of the people of China, or those\nof Siddartha, son of the beautiful Maya; older than the Genesis of\nMosche the Hebrew\u2014oldest of human records are the writings of Menes,\nour first king.\u201d Pausing an instant, he fixed his large eves kindly\nupon the Greek, saying, \u201cIn the youth of Hellas, who, O Gaspar, were\nthe teachers of her teachers?\u201d\n\nThe Greek bowed, smiling.\n\n\u201cBy those records,\u201d Balthasar continued, \u201cwe know that when the fathers\ncame from the far East, from the region of the birth of the three\nsacred rivers, from the centre of the earth\u2014the Old Iran of which you\nspoke, O Melchior\u2014came bringing with them the history of the world\nbefore the Flood, and of the Flood itself, as given to the Aryans by\nthe sons of Noah, they taught God, the Creator and the Beginning, and\nthe Soul, deathless as God. When the duty which calls us now is happily\ndone, if you choose to go with me, I will show you the sacred library\nof our priesthood; among others, the Book of the Dead, in which is the\nritual to be observed by the soul after Death has despatched it on its\njourney to judgment. The ideas\u2014God and the Immortal Soul\u2014were borne to\nMizraim over the desert, and by him to the banks of the Nile. They were\nthen in their purity, easy of understanding, as what God intends for\nour happiness always is; so, also, was the first worship\u2014a song and a\nprayer natural to a soul joyous, hopeful, and in love with its Maker.\u201d\n\nHere the Greek threw up his hands, exclaiming, \u201cOh! the light deepens\nwithin me!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd in me!\u201d said the Hindoo, with equal fervor.\n\nThe Egyptian regarded them benignantly, then went on, saying, \u201cReligion\nis merely the law which binds man to his Creator: in purity it has but\nthese elements\u2014God, the Soul, and their Mutual Recognition; out of\nwhich, when put in practise, spring Worship, Love, and Reward. This\nlaw, like all others of divine origin\u2014like that, for instance, which\nbinds the earth to the sun\u2014was perfected in the beginning by its\nAuthor. Such, my brothers, was the religion of the first family; such\nwas the religion of our father Mizraim, who could not have been blind\nto the formula of creation, nowhere so discernible as in the first\nfaith and the earliest worship. Perfection is God; simplicity is\nperfection. The curse of curses is that men will not let truths like\nthese alone.\u201d\n\nHe stopped, as if considering in what manner to continue.\n\n\u201cMany nations have loved the sweet waters of the Nile,\u201d he said next;\n\u201cthe Ethiopian, the Pali-Putra, the Hebrew, the Assyrian, the Persian,\nthe Macedonian, the Roman\u2014of whom all, except the Hebrew, have at one\ntime or another been its masters. So much coming and going of peoples\ncorrupted the old Mizraimic faith. The Valley of Palms became a Valley\nof Gods. The Supreme One was divided into eight, each personating a\ncreative principle in nature, with Ammon-Re at the head. Then Isis and\nOsiris, and their circle, representing water, fire, air, and other\nforces, were invented. Still the multiplication went on until we had\nanother order, suggested by human qualities, such as strength,\nknowledge, love, and the like.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn all which there was the old folly!\u201d cried the Greek, impulsively.\n\u201cOnly the things out of reach remain as they came to us.\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian bowed, and proceeded:\n\n\u201cYet a little further, O my brethren, a little further, before I come\nto myself. What we go to will seem all the holier of comparison with\nwhat is and has been. The records show that Mizraim found the Nile in\npossession of the Ethiopians, who were spread thence through the\nAfrican desert; a people of rich, fantastic genius, wholly given to the\nworship of nature. The Poetic Persian sacrificed to the sun, as the\ncompletest image of Ormuzd, his God; the devout children of the far\nEast carved their deities out of wood and ivory; but the Ethiopian,\nwithout writing, without books, without mechanical faculty of any kind,\nquieted his soul by the worship of animals, birds, and insects, holding\nthe cat sacred to Re, the bull to Isis, the beetle to Pthah. A long\nstruggle against their rude faith ended in its adoption as the religion\nof the new empire. Then rose the mighty monuments that cumber the\nriver-bank and the desert\u2014obelisk, labyrinth, pyramid, and tomb of\nking, blent with tomb of crocodile. Into such deep debasement, O\nbrethren, the sons of the Aryan fell!\u201d\n\nHere, for the first time, the calmness of the Egyptian forsook him:\nthough his countenance remained impassive, his voice gave way.\n\n\u201cDo not too much despise my countrymen,\u201d he began again. \u201cThey did not\nall forget God. I said awhile ago, you may remember, that to papyri we\nintrusted all the secrets of our religion except one; of that I will\nnow tell you. We had as king once a certain Pharaoh, who lent himself\nto all manner of changes and additions. To establish the new system, he\nstrove to drive the old entirely out of mind. The Hebrews then dwelt\nwith us as slaves. They clung to their God; and when the persecution\nbecame intolerable, they were delivered in a manner never to be\nforgotten. I speak from the records now. Mosche, himself a Hebrew, came\nto the palace, and demanded permission for the slaves, then millions in\nnumber, to leave the country. The demand was in the name of the Lord\nGod of Israel. Pharaoh refused. Hear what followed. First, all the\nwater, that in the lakes and rivers, like that in the wells and\nvessels, turned to blood. Yet the monarch refused. Then frogs came up\nand covered all the land. Still he was firm. Then Mosche threw ashes in\nthe air, and a plague attacked the Egyptians. Next, all the cattle,\nexcept of the Hebrews, were struck dead. Locusts devoured the green\nthings of the valley. At noon the day was turned into a darkness so\nthick that lamps would not burn. Finally, in the night all the\nfirst-born of the Egyptians died; not even Pharaoh\u2019s escaped. Then he\nyielded. But when the Hebrews were gone he followed them with his army.\nAt the last moment the sea was divided, so that the fugitives passed it\ndry-shod. When the pursuers drove in after them, the waves rushed back\nand drowned horse, foot, charioteers, and king. You spoke of\nrevelation, my Gaspar\u2014\u201d\n\nThe blue eyes of the Greek sparkled.\n\n\u201cI had the story from the Jew,\u201d he cried. \u201cYou confirm it, O\nBalthasar!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but through me Egypt speaks, not Mosche. I interpret the marbles.\nThe priests of that time wrote in their way what they witnessed, and\nthe revelation has lived. So I come to the one unrecorded secret. In my\ncountry, brethren, we have, from the day of the unfortunate Pharaoh,\nalways had two religions\u2014one private, the other public; one of many\ngods, practised by the people; the other of one God, cherished only by\nthe priesthood. Rejoice with me, O brothers! All the trampling by the\nmany nations, all the harrowing by kings, all the inventions of\nenemies, all the changes of time, have been in vain. Like a seed under\nthe mountains waiting its hour, the glorious Truth has lived; and\nthis\u2014this is its day!\u201d\n\nThe wasted frame of the Hindoo trembled with delight, and the Greek\ncried aloud,\n\n\u201cIt seems to me the very desert is singing.\u201d\n\nFrom a gurglet of water near-by the Egyptian took a draught, and\nproceeded:\n\n\u201cI was born at Alexandria, a prince and a priest, and had the education\nusual to my class. But very early I became discontented. Part of the\nfaith imposed was that after death upon the destruction of the body,\nthe soul at once began its former progression from the lowest up to\nhumanity, the highest and last existence; and that without reference to\nconduct in the mortal life. When I heard of the Persian\u2019s Realm of\nLight, his Paradise across the bridge Chinevat, where only the good go,\nthe thought haunted me; insomuch that in the day, as in the night, I\nbrooded over the comparative ideas Eternal Transmigration and Eternal\nLife in Heaven. If, as my teacher taught, God was just, why was there\nno distinction between the good and the bad? At length it became clear\nto me, a certainty, a corollary of the law to which I reduced pure\nreligion, that death was only the point of separation at which the\nwicked are left or lost, and the faithful rise to a higher life; not\nthe nirvana of Buddha, or the negative rest of Brahma, O Melchior; nor\nthe better condition in hell, which is all of Heaven allowed by the\nOlympic faith, O Gaspar; but life\u2014life active, joyous, everlasting\u2014LIFE\nWITH GOD! The discovery led to another inquiry. Why should the Truth be\nlonger kept a secret for the selfish solace of the priesthood? The\nreason for the suppression was gone. Philosophy had at least brought us\ntoleration. In Egypt we had Rome instead of Rameses. One day, in the\nBrucheium, the most splendid and crowded quarter of Alexandria, I arose\nand preached. The East and West contributed to my audience. Students\ngoing to the Library, priests from the Serapeion, idlers from the\nMuseum, patrons of the race-course, countrymen from the Rhacotis\u2014a\nmultitude\u2014stopped to hear me. I preached God, the Soul, Right and\nWrong, and Heaven, the reward of a virtuous life. You, O Melchior, were\nstoned; my auditors first wondered, then laughed. I tried again; they\npelted me with epigrams, covered my God with ridicule, and darkened my\nHeaven with mockery. Not to linger needlessly, I fell before them.\u201d\n\nThe Hindoo here drew a long sigh, as he said, \u201cThe enemy of man is man,\nmy brother.\u201d\n\nBalthasar lapsed into silence.\n\n\u201cI gave much thought to finding the cause of my failure, and at last\nsucceeded,\u201d he said, upon beginning again. \u201cUp the river, a day\u2019s\njourney from the city, there is a village of herdsmen and gardeners. I\ntook a boat and went there. In the evening I called the people\ntogether, men and women, the poorest of the poor. I preached to them\nexactly as I had preached in the Brucheium. They did not laugh. Next\nevening I spoke again, and they believed and rejoiced, and carried the\nnews abroad. At the third meeting a society was formed for prayer. I\nreturned to the city then. Drifting down the river, under the stars,\nwhich never seemed so bright and so near, I evolved this lesson: To\nbegin a reform, go not into the places of the great and rich; go rather\nto those whose cups of happiness are empty\u2014to the poor and humble. And\nthen I laid a plan and devoted my life. As a first step, I secured my\nvast property, so that the income would be certain, and always at call\nfor the relief of the suffering. From that day, O brethren, I travelled\nup and down the Nile, in the villages, and to all the tribes, preaching\nOne God, a righteous life, and reward in Heaven. I have done good\u2014it\ndoes not become me to say how much. I also know that part of the world\nto be ripe for the reception of Him we go to find.\u201d\n\nA flush suffused the swarthy cheek of the speaker; but he overcame the\nfeeling, and continued:\n\n\u201cThe years so given, O my brothers, were troubled by one thought\u2014When I\nwas gone, what would become of the cause I had started? Was it to end\nwith me? I had dreamed many times of organization as a fitting crown\nfor my work. To hide nothing from you, I had tried to effect it, and\nfailed. Brethren, the world is now in the condition that, to restore\nthe old Mizraimic faith, the reformer must have a more than human\nsanction; he must not merely come in God\u2019s name, he must have the\nproofs subject to his word; he must demonstrate all he says, even God.\nSo preoccupied is the mind with myths and systems; so much do false\ndeities crowd every place\u2014earth, air, sky; so have they become of\neverything a part, that return to the first religion can only be along\nbloody paths, through fields of persecution; that is to say, the\nconverts must be willing to die rather than recant. And who in this age\ncan carry the faith of men to such a point but God himself? To redeem\nthe race\u2014I do not mean to destroy it\u2014to REDEEM the race, he must make\nhimself once more manifest; HE MUST COME IN PERSON.\u201d\n\nIntense emotion seized the three.\n\n\u201cAre we not going to find him?\u201d exclaimed the Greek.\n\n\u201cYou understand why I failed in the attempt to organize,\u201d said the\nEgyptian, when the spell was past. \u201cI had not the sanction. To know\nthat my work must be lost made me intolerably wretched. I believed in\nprayer, and to make my appeals pure and strong, like you, my brethren,\nI went out of the beaten ways, I went where man had not been, where\nonly God was. Above the fifth cataract, above the meeting of rivers in\nSennar, up the Bahr el Abiad, into the far unknown of Africa, I went.\nThere, in the morning, a mountain blue as the sky flings a cooling\nshadow wide over the western desert, and, with its cascades of melted\nsnow, feeds a broad lake nestling at its base on the east. The lake is\nthe mother of the great river. For a year and more the mountain gave me\na home. The fruit of the palm fed my body, prayer my spirit. One night\nI walked in the orchard close by the little sea. \u2018The world is dying.\nWhen wilt thou come? Why may I not see the redemption, O God?\u2019 So I\nprayed. The glassy water was sparkling with stars. One of them seemed\nto leave its place, and rise to the surface, where it became a\nbrilliancy burning to the eyes. Then it moved towards me, and stood\nover my head, apparently in hand\u2019s reach. I fell down and hid my face.\nA voice, not of the earth, said, \u2018Thy good works have conquered.\nBlessed art thou, O son of Mizraim! The redemption cometh. With two\nothers, from the remotenesses of the world, thou shalt see the Saviour,\nand testify for him. In the morning arise, and go meet them. And when\nye have all come to the holy city of Jerusalem, ask of the people,\nWhere is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in\nthe East and are sent to worship him. Put all thy trust in the Spirit\nwhich will guide thee.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the light became an inward illumination not to be doubted, and has\nstayed with me, a governor and a guide. It led me down the river to\nMemphis, where I made ready for the desert. I bought my camel, and came\nhither without rest, by way of Suez and Kufileh, and up through the\nlands of Moab and Ammon. God is with us, O my brethren!\u201d\n\nHe paused, and thereupon, with a prompting not their own, they all\narose, and looked at each other.\n\n\u201cI said there was a purpose in the particularity with which we\ndescribed our people and their histories,\u201d so the Egyptian proceeded.\n\u201cHe we go to find was called \u2018King of the Jews;\u2019 by that name we are\nbidden to ask for him. But, now that we have met, and heard from each\nother, we may know him to be the Redeemer, not of the Jews alone, but\nof all the nations of the earth. The patriarch who survived the Flood\nhad with him three sons, and their families, by whom the world was\nrepeopled. From the old Aryana-Vaejo, the well-remembered Region of\nDelight in the heart of Asia, they parted. India and the far East\nreceived the children of the first; the descendant of the youngest,\nthrough the North, streamed into Europe; those of the second overflowed\nthe deserts about the Red Sea, passing into Africa; and though most of\nthe latter are yet dwellers in shifting tents, some of them became\nbuilders along the Nile.\u201d\n\nBy a simultaneous impulse the three joined hands.\n\n\u201cCould anything be more divinely ordered?\u201d Balthasar continued. \u201cWhen\nwe have found the Lord, the brothers, and all the generations that have\nsucceeded them, will kneel to him in homage with us. And when we part\nto go our separate ways, the world will have learned a new lesson\u2014that\nHeaven may be won, not by the sword, not by human wisdom, but by Faith,\nLove, and Good Works.\u201d\n\nThere was silence, broken by sighs and sanctified with tears; for the\njoy that filled them might not be stayed. It was the unspeakable joy of\nsouls on the shores of the River of Life, resting with the Redeemed in\nGod\u2019s presence.\n\nPresently their hands fell apart, and together they went out of the\ntent. The desert was still as the sky. The sun was sinking fast. The\ncamels slept.\n\nA little while after, the tent was struck, and, with the remains of the\nrepast, restored to the cot; then the friends mounted, and set out\nsingle file, led by the Egyptian. Their course was due west, into the\nchilly night. The camels swung forward in steady trot, keeping the line\nand the intervals so exactly that those following seemed to tread in\nthe tracks of the leader. The riders spoke not once.\n\nBy-and-by the moon came up. And as the three tall white figures sped,\nwith soundless tread, through the opalescent light, they appeared like\nspecters flying from hateful shadows. Suddenly, in the air before them,\nnot farther up than a low hill-top flared a lambent flame; as they\nlooked at it, the apparition contracted into a focus of dazzling\nlustre. Their hearts beat fast; their souls thrilled; and they shouted\nas with one voice, \u201cThe Star! the Star! God is with us!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nIn an aperture of the western wall of Jerusalem hang the \u201coaken valves\u201d\ncalled the Bethlehem or Joppa Gate. The area outside of them is one of\nthe notable places of the city. Long before David coveted Zion there\nwas a citadel there. When at last the son of Jesse ousted the Jebusite,\nand began to build, the site of the citadel became the northwest corner\nof the new wall, defended by a tower much more imposing than the old\none. The location of the gate, however, was not disturbed, for the\nreasons, most likely, that the roads which met and merged in front of\nit could not well be transferred to any other point, while the area\noutside had become a recognized market-place. In Solomon\u2019s day there\nwas great traffic at the locality, shared in by traders from Egypt and\nthe rich dealers from Tyre and Sidon. Nearly three thousand years have\npassed, and yet a kind of commerce clings to the spot. A pilgrim\nwanting a pin or a pistol, a cucumber or a camel, a house or a horse, a\nloan or a lentil, a date or a dragoman, a melon or a man, a dove or a\ndonkey, has only to inquire for the article at the Joppa Gate.\nSometimes the scene is quite animated, and then it suggests, What a\nplace the old market must have been in the days of Herod the Builder!\nAnd to that period and that market the reader is now to be transferred.\n\nFollowing the Hebrew system, the meeting of the wise men described in\nthe preceding chapters took place in the afternoon of the twenty-fifth\nday of the third month of the year; that is to say, on the twenty-fifth\nday of December. The year was the second of the 193d Olympiad, or the\n747th of Rome; the sixty-seventh of Herod the Great, and the\nthirty-fifth of his reign; the fourth before the beginning of the\nChristian era. The hours of the day, by Judean custom, begin with the\nsun, the first hour being the first after sunrise; so, to be precise;\nthe market at the Joppa Gate during the first hour of the day stated\nwas in full session, and very lively. The massive valves had been wide\nopen since dawn. Business, always aggressive, had pushed through the\narched entrance into a narrow lane and court, which, passing by the\nwalls of the great tower, conducted on into the city. As Jerusalem is\nin the hill country, the morning air on this occasion was not a little\ncrisp. The rays of the sun, with their promise of warmth, lingered\nprovokingly far up on the battlements and turrets of the great piles\nabout, down from which fell the crooning of pigeons and the whir of the\nflocks coming and going.\n\nAs a passing acquaintance with the people of the Holy City, strangers\nas well as residents, will be necessary to an understanding of some of\nthe pages which follow, it will be well to stop at the gate and pass\nthe scene in review. Better opportunity will not offer to get sight of\nthe populace who will afterwhile go forward in a mood very different\nfrom that which now possesses them.\n\nThe scene is at first one of utter confusion\u2014confusion of action,\nsounds, colors, and things. It is especially so in the lane and court.\nThe ground there is paved with broad unshaped flags, from which each\ncry and jar and hoof-stamp arises to swell the medley that rings and\nroars up between the solid impending walls. A little mixing with the\nthrong, however, a little familiarity with the business going on, will\nmake analysis possible.\n\nHere stands a donkey, dozing under panniers full of lentils, beans,\nonions, and cucumbers, brought fresh from the gardens and terraces of\nGalilee. When not engaged in serving customers, the master, in a voice\nwhich only the initiated can understand, cries his stock. Nothing can\nbe simpler than his costume\u2014sandals, and an unbleached, undyed blanket,\ncrossed over one shoulder and girt round the waist. Near-by, and far\nmore imposing and grotesque, though scarcely as patient as the donkey,\nkneels a camel, raw-boned, rough, and gray, with long shaggy tufts of\nfox-colored hair under its throat, neck, and body, and a load of boxes\nand baskets curiously arranged upon an enormous saddle. The owner is an\nEgyptian, small, lithe, and of a complexion which has borrowed a good\ndeal from the dust of the roads and the sands of the desert. He wears a\nfaded tarbooshe, a loose gown, sleeveless, unbelted, and dropping from\nthe neck to the knee. His feet are bare. The camel, restless under the\nload, groans and occasionally shows his teeth; but the man paces\nindifferently to and fro, holding the driving-strap, and all the time\nadvertising his fruits fresh from the orchards of the Kedron\u2014grapes,\ndates, figs, apples, and pomegranates.\n\nAt the corner where the lane opens out into the court, some women sit\nwith their backs against the gray stones of the wall. Their dress is\nthat common to the humbler classes of the country\u2014a linen frock\nextending the full length of the person, loosely gathered at the waist,\nand a veil or wimple broad enough, after covering the head, to wrap the\nshoulders. Their merchandise is contained in a number of earthen jars,\nsuch as are still used in the East for bringing water from the wells,\nand some leathern bottles. Among the jars and bottles, rolling upon the\nstony floor, regardless of the crowd and cold, often in danger but\nnever hurt, play half a dozen half-naked children, their brown bodies,\njetty eyes, and thick black hair attesting the blood of Israel.\nSometimes, from under the wimples, the mothers look up, and in the\nvernacular modestly bespeak their trade: in the bottles \u201choney of\ngrapes,\u201d in the jars \u201cstrong drink.\u201d Their entreaties are usually lost\nin the general uproar, and they fare illy against the many competitors:\nbrawny fellows with bare legs, dirty tunics, and long beards, going\nabout with bottles lashed to their backs, and shouting \u201cHoney of wine!\nGrapes of En-Gedi!\u201d When a customer halts one of them, round comes the\nbottle, and, upon lifting the thumb from the nozzle, out into the ready\ncup gushes the deep-red blood of the luscious berry.\n\nScarcely less blatant are the dealers in birds\u2014doves, ducks, and\nfrequently the singing bulbul, or nightingale, most frequently pigeons;\nand buyers, receiving them from the nets, seldom fail to think of the\nperilous life of the catchers, bold climbers of the cliffs; now hanging\nwith hand and foot to the face of the crag, now swinging in a basket\nfar down the mountain fissure.\n\nBlent with peddlers of jewelry\u2014sharp men cloaked in scarlet and blue,\ntop-heavy under prodigious white turbans, and fully conscious of the\npower there is in the lustre of a ribbon and the incisive gleam of\ngold, whether in bracelet or necklace, or in rings for the finger or\nthe nose\u2014and with peddlers of household utensils, and with dealers in\nwearing-apparel, and with retailers of unguents for anointing the\nperson, and with hucksters of all articles, fanciful as well as of\nneed, hither and thither, tugging at halters and ropes, now screaming,\nnow coaxing, toil the venders of animals\u2014donkeys, horses, calves,\nsheep, bleating kids, and awkward camels; animals of every kind except\nthe outlawed swine. All these are there; not singly, as described, but\nmany times repeated; not in one place, but everywhere in the market.\n\nTurning from this scene in the lane and court, this glance at the\nsellers and their commodities, the reader has need to give attention,\nin the next place, to visitors and buyers, for which the best studies\nwill be found outside the gates, where the spectacle is quite as varied\nand animated; indeed, it may be more so, for there are superadded the\neffects of tent, booth, and sook, greater space, larger crowd, more\nunqualified freedom, and the glory of the Eastern sunshine.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nLet us take our stand by the gate, just out of the edge of the\ncurrents\u2014one flowing in, the other out\u2014and use our eyes and ears\nawhile.\n\nIn good time! Here come two men of a most noteworthy class.\n\n\u201cGods! How cold it is!\u201d says one of them, a powerful figure in armor;\non his head a brazen helmet, on his body a shining breastplate and\nskirts of mail. \u201cHow cold it is! Dost thou remember, my Caius, that\nvault in the Comitium at home which the flamens say is the entrance to\nthe lower world? By Pluto! I could stand there this morning, long\nenough at least to get warm again!\u201d\n\nThe party addressed drops the hood of his military cloak, leaving bare\nhis head and face, and replies, with an ironic smile, \u201cThe helmets of\nthe legions which conquered Mark Antony were full of Gallic snow; but\nthou\u2014ah, my poor friend!\u2014thou hast just come from Egypt, bringing its\nsummer in thy blood.\u201d\n\nAnd with the last word they disappear through the entrance. Though they\nhad been silent, the armor and the sturdy step would have published\nthem Roman soldiers.\n\nFrom the throng a Jew comes next, meager of frame, round-shouldered,\nand wearing a coarse brown robe; over his eyes and face, and down his\nback, hangs a mat of long, uncombed hair. He is alone. Those who meet\nhim laugh, if they do not worse; for he is a Nazarite, one of a\ndespised sect which rejects the books of Moses, devotes itself to\nabhorred vows, and goes unshorn while the vows endure.\n\nAs we watch his retiring figure, suddenly there is a commotion in the\ncrowd, a parting quickly to the right and left, with exclamations sharp\nand decisive. Then the cause comes\u2014a man, Hebrew in feature and dress.\nThe mantle of snow-white linen, held to his head by cords of yellow\nsilk, flows free over his shoulders; his robe is richly embroidered, a\nred sash with fringes of gold wraps his waist several times. His\ndemeanor is calm; he even smiles upon those who, with such rude haste,\nmake room for him. A leper? No, he is only a Samaritan. The shrinking\ncrowd, if asked, would say he is a mongrel\u2014an Assyrian\u2014whose touch of\nthe robe is pollution; from whom, consequently, an Israelite, though\ndying, might not accept life. In fact, the feud is not of blood. When\nDavid set his throne here on Mount Zion, with only Judah to support\nhim, the ten tribes betook themselves to Shechem, a city much older,\nand, at that date, infinitely richer in holy memories. The final union\nof the tribes did not settle the dispute thus begun. The Samaritans\nclung to their tabernacle on Gerizim, and, while maintaining its\nsuperior sanctity, laughed at the irate doctors in Jerusalem. Time\nbrought no assuagement of the hate. Under Herod, conversion to the\nfaith was open to all the world except the Samaritans; they alone were\nabsolutely and forever shut out from communion with Jews.\n\nAs the Samaritan goes in under the arch of the gate, out come three men\nso unlike all whom we have yet seen that they fix our gaze, whether we\nwill or not. They are of unusual stature and immense brawn; their eyes\nare blue, and so fair is their complexion that the blood shines through\nthe skin like blue pencilling; their hair is light and short; their\nheads, small and round, rest squarely upon necks columnar as the trunks\nof trees. Woollen tunics, open at the breast, sleeveless and loosely\ngirt, drape their bodies, leaving bare arms and legs of such\ndevelopment that they at once suggest the arena; and when thereto we\nadd their careless, confident, insolent manner, we cease to wonder that\nthe people give them way, and stop after they have passed to look at\nthem again. They are gladiators\u2014wrestlers, runners, boxers, swordsmen;\nprofessionals unknown in Judea before the coming of the Roman; fellows\nwho, what time they are not in training, may be seen strolling through\nthe king\u2019s gardens or sitting with the guards at the palace gates; or\npossibly they are visitors from C\u00e6sarea, Sebaste, or Jericho; in which\nHerod, more Greek than Jew, and with all a Roman\u2019s love of games and\nbloody spectacles, has built vast theaters, and now keeps schools of\nfighting-men, drawn, as is the custom, from the Gallic provinces or the\nSlavic tribes on the Danube.\n\n\u201cBy Bacchus!\u201d says one of them, drawing his clenched hand to his\nshoulder, \u201ctheir skulls are not thicker than eggshells.\u201d\n\nThe brutal look which goes with the gesture disgusts us, and we turn\nhappily to something more pleasant.\n\nOpposite us is a fruit-stand. The proprietor has a bald head, a long\nface, and a nose like the beak of a hawk. He sits upon a carpet spread\nupon the dust; the wall is at his back; overhead hangs a scant curtain,\naround him, within hand\u2019s reach and arranged upon little stools, lie\nosier boxes full of almonds, grapes, figs, and pomegranates. To him now\ncomes one at whom we cannot help looking, though for another reason\nthan that which fixed our eyes upon the gladiators; he is really\nbeautiful\u2014a beautiful Greek. Around his temples, holding the waving\nhair, is a crown of myrtle, to which still cling the pale flowers and\nhalf ripe berries. His tunic, scarlet in color, is of the softest\nwoollen fabric; below the girdle of buff leather, which is clasped in\nfront by a fantastic device of shining gold, the skirt drops to the\nknee in folds heavy with embroidery of the same royal metal; a scarf,\nalso woollen, and of mixed white and yellow, crosses his throat and\nfalls trailing at his back; his arms and legs, where exposed, are white\nas ivory, and of the polish impossible except by perfect treatment with\nbath, oil, brushes, and pincers.\n\nThe dealer, keeping his seat, bends forward, and throws his hands up\nuntil they meet in front of him, palm downwards and fingers extended.\n\n\u201cWhat hast thou, this morning, O son of Paphos?\u201d says the young Greek,\nlooking at the boxes rather than at the Cypriote. \u201cI am hungry. What\nhast thou for breakfast?\u201d\n\n\u201cFruits from the Pedius\u2014genuine\u2014such as the singers of Antioch take of\nmornings to restore the waste of their voices,\u201d the dealer answers, in\na querulous nasal tone.\n\n\u201cA fig, but not one of thy best, for the singers of Antioch!\u201d says the\nGreek. \u201cThou art a worshiper of Aphrodite, and so am I, as the myrtle I\nwear proves; therefore I tell thee their voices have the chill of a\nCaspian wind. Seest thou this girdle?\u2014a gift of the mighty Salome\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cThe king\u2019s sister!\u201d exclaims the Cypriote, with another salaam.\n\n\u201cAnd of royal taste and divine judgment. And why not? She is more Greek\nthan the king. But\u2014my breakfast! Here is thy money\u2014red coppers of\nCyprus. Give me grapes, and\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWilt thou not take the dates also?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I am not an Arab.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor figs?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would be to make me a Jew. No, nothing but the grapes. Never\nwaters mixed so sweetly as the blood of the Greek and the blood of the\ngrape.\u201d\n\nThe singer in the grimed and seething market, with all his airs of the\ncourt, is a vision not easily shut out of mind by such as see him; as\nif for the purpose, however, a person follows him challenging all our\nwonder. He comes up the road slowly, his face towards the ground; at\nintervals he stops, crosses his hands upon his breast, lengthens his\ncountenance, and turns his eyes towards heaven, as if about to break\ninto prayer. Nowhere, except in Jerusalem, can such a character be\nfound. On his forehead, attached to the band which keeps the mantle in\nplace, projects a leathern case, square in form; another similar case\nis tied by a thong to the left arm; the borders of his robe are\ndecorated with deep fringe; and by such signs\u2014the phylacteries, the\nenlarged borders of the garment, and the savor of intense holiness\npervading the whole man\u2014we know him to be a Pharisee, one of an\norganization (in religion a sect, in politics a party) whose bigotry\nand power will shortly bring the world to grief.\n\nThe densest of the throng outside the gate covers the road leading off\nto Joppa. Turning from the Pharisee, we are attracted by some parties\nwho, as subjects of study, opportunely separate themselves from the\nmotley crowd. First among them a man of very noble appearance\u2014clear,\nhealthful complexion; bright black eyes; beard long and flowing, and\nrich with unguents; apparel well-fitting, costly, and suitable for the\nseason. He carries a staff, and wears, suspended by a cord from his\nneck, a large golden seal. Several servants attend him, some of them\nwith short swords stuck through their sashes; when they address him, it\nis with the utmost deference. The rest of the party consists of two\nArabs of the pure desert stock; thin, wiry men, deeply bronzed, and\nwith hollow cheeks, and eyes of almost evil brightness; on their heads\nred tarbooshes; over their abas, and wrapping the left shoulder and the\nbody so as to leave the right arm free, brown woollen haicks, or\nblankets. There is loud chaffering, for the Arabs are leading horses\nand trying to sell them; and, in their eagerness, they speak in high,\nshrill voices. The courtly person leaves the talking mostly to his\nservants; occasionally he answers with much dignity; directly, seeing\nthe Cypriote, he stops and buys some figs. And when the whole party has\npassed the portal, close after the Pharisee, if we betake ourselves to\nthe dealer in fruits, he will tell, with a wonderful salaam, that the\nstranger is a Jew, one of the princes of the city, who has travelled,\nand learned the difference between the common grapes of Syria and those\nof Cyprus, so surpassingly rich with the dews of the sea.\n\nAnd so, till towards noon, sometimes later, the steady currents of\nbusiness habitually flow in and out of the Joppa Gate, carrying with\nthem every variety of character; including representatives of all the\ntribes of Israel, all the sects among whom the ancient faith has been\nparcelled and refined away, all the religious and social divisions, all\nthe adventurous rabble who, as children of art and ministers of\npleasure, riot in the prodigalities of Herod, and all the peoples of\nnote at any time compassed by the C\u00e6sars and their predecessors,\nespecially those dwelling within the circuit of the Mediterranean.\n\nIn other words, Jerusalem, rich in sacred history, richer in connection\nwith sacred prophecies\u2014the Jerusalem of Solomon, in which silver was as\nstones, and cedars as the sycamores of the vale\u2014had come to be but a\ncopy of Rome, a center of unholy practises, a seat of pagan power. A\nJewish king one day put on priestly garments, and went into the Holy of\nHolies of the first temple to offer incense, and he came out a leper;\nbut in the time of which we are reading, Pompey entered Herod\u2019s temple\nand the same Holy of Holies, and came out without harm, finding but an\nempty chamber, and of God not a sign.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nThe reader is now besought to return to the court described as part of\nthe market at the Joppa Gate. It was the third hour of the day, and\nmany of the people had gone away; yet the press continued without\napparent abatement. Of the new-comers, there was a group over by the\nsouth wall, consisting of a man, a woman, and a donkey, which requires\nextended notice.\n\nThe man stood by the animal\u2019s head, holding a leading-strap, and\nleaning upon a stick which seemed to have been chosen for the double\npurpose of goad and staff. His dress was like that of the ordinary Jews\naround him, except that it had an appearance of newness. The mantle\ndropping from his head, and the robe or frock which clothed his person\nfrom neck to heel, were probably the garments he was accustomed to wear\nto the synagogue on Sabbath days. His features were exposed, and they\ntold of fifty years of life, a surmise confirmed by the gray that\nstreaked his otherwise black beard. He looked around him with the\nhalf-curious, half-vacant stare of a stranger and provincial.\n\nThe donkey ate leisurely from an armful of green grass, of which there\nwas an abundance in the market. In its sleepy content, the brute did\nnot admit of disturbance from the bustle and clamor about; no more was\nit mindful of the woman sitting upon its back in a cushioned pillion.\nAn outer robe of dull woollen stuff completely covered her person,\nwhile a white wimple veiled her head and neck. Once in a while,\nimpelled by curiosity to see or hear something passing, she drew the\nwimple aside, but so slightly that the face remained invisible.\n\nAt length the man was accosted.\n\n\u201cAre you not Joseph of Nazareth?\u201d\n\nThe speaker was standing close by.\n\n\u201cI am so called,\u201d answered Joseph, turning gravely around; \u201cAnd you\u2014ah,\npeace be unto you! my friend, Rabbi Samuel!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same give I back to you.\u201d The Rabbi paused, looking at the woman,\nthen added, \u201cTo you, and unto your house and all your helpers, be\npeace.\u201d\n\nWith the last word, he placed one hand upon his breast, and inclined\nhis head to the woman, who, to see him, had by this time withdrawn the\nwimple enough to show the face of one but a short time out of girlhood.\nThereupon the acquaintances grasped right hands, as if to carry them to\ntheir lips; at the last moment, however, the clasp was let go, and each\nkissed his own hand, then put its palm upon his forehead.\n\n\u201cThere is so little dust upon your garments,\u201d the Rabbi said,\nfamiliarly, \u201cthat I infer you passed the night in this city of our\nfathers.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d Joseph replied, \u201cas we could only make Bethany before the night\ncame, we stayed in the khan there, and took the road again at\ndaybreak.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe journey before you is long, then\u2014not to Joppa, I hope.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly to Bethlehem.\u201d\n\nThe countenance of the Rabbi, theretofore open and friendly, became\nlowering and sinister, and he cleared his throat with a growl instead\nof a cough.\n\n\u201cYes, yes\u2014I see,\u201d he said. \u201cYou were born in Bethlehem, and wend\nthither now, with your daughter, to be counted for taxation, as ordered\nby C\u00e6sar. The children of Jacob are as the tribes in Egypt were\u2014only\nthey have neither a Moses nor a Joshua. How are the mighty fallen!\u201d\n\nJoseph answered, without change of posture or countenance,\n\n\u201cThe woman is not my daughter.\u201d\n\nBut the Rabbi clung to the political idea; and he went on, without\nnoticing the explanation, \u201cWhat are the Zealots doing down in Galilee?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a carpenter, and Nazareth is a village,\u201d said Joseph, cautiously.\n\u201cThe street on which my bench stands is not a road leading to any city.\nHewing wood and sawing plank leave me no time to take part in the\ndisputes of parties.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you are a Jew,\u201d said the Rabbi, earnestly. \u201cYou are a Jew, and of\nthe line of David. It is not possible you can find pleasure in the\npayment of any tax except the shekel given by ancient custom to\nJehovah.\u201d\n\nJoseph held his peace.\n\n\u201cI do not complain,\u201d his friend continued, \u201cof the amount of the tax\u2014a\ndenarius is a trifle. Oh no! The imposition of the tax is the offense.\nAnd, besides, what is paying it but submission to tyranny? Tell me, is\nit true that Judas claims to be the Messiah? You live in the midst of\nhis followers.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have heard his followers say he was the Messiah,\u201d Joseph replied.\n\nAt this point the wimple was drawn aside, and for an instant the whole\nface of the woman was exposed. The eyes of the Rabbi wandered that way,\nand he had time to see a countenance of rare beauty, kindled by a look\nof intense interest; then a blush overspread her cheeks and brow, and\nthe veil was returned to its place.\n\nThe politician forgot his subject.\n\n\u201cYour daughter is comely,\u201d he said, speaking lower.\n\n\u201cShe is not my daughter,\u201d Joseph repeated.\n\nThe curiosity of the Rabbi was aroused; seeing which, the Nazarene\nhastened to say further, \u201cShe is the child of Joachim and Anna of\nBethlehem, of whom you have at least heard, for they were of great\nrepute\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d remarked the Rabbi, deferentially, \u201cI know them. They were\nlineally descended from David. I knew them well.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they are dead now,\u201d the Nazarene proceeded. \u201cThey died in\nNazareth. Joachim was not rich, yet he left a house and garden to be\ndivided between his daughters Marian and Mary. This is one of them; and\nto save her portion of the property, the law required her to marry her\nnext of kin. She is now my wife.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you were\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cHer uncle.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes! And as you were both born in Bethlehem, the Roman compels\nyou to take her there with you to be also counted.\u201d\n\nThe Rabbi clasped his hands, and looked indignantly to heaven,\nexclaiming, \u201cThe God of Israel still lives! The vengeance is his!\u201d\n\nWith that he turned and abruptly departed. A stranger near by,\nobserving Joseph\u2019s amazement, said, quietly, \u201cRabbi Samuel is a zealot.\nJudas himself is not more fierce.\u201d\n\nJoseph, not wishing to talk with the man, appeared not to hear, and\nbusied himself gathering in a little heap the grass which the donkey\nhad tossed abroad; after which he leaned upon his staff again, and\nwaited.\n\nIn another hour the party passed out the gate, and, turning to the\nleft, took the road into Bethlehem. The descent into the valley of\nHinnom was quite broken, garnished here and there with straggling wild\nolive-trees. Carefully, tenderly, the Nazarene walked by the woman\u2019s\nside, leading-strap in hand. On their left, reaching to the south and\neast round Mount Zion, rose the city wall, and on their right the steep\nprominences which form the western boundary of the valley.\n\nSlowly they passed the Lower Pool of Gihon, out of which the sun was\nfast driving the lessening shadow of the royal hill; slowly they\nproceeded, keeping parallel with the aqueduct from the Pools of\nSolomon, until near the site of the country-house on what is now called\nthe Hill of Evil Counsel; there they began to ascend to the plain of\nRephaim. The sun streamed garishly over the stony face of the famous\nlocality, and under its influence Mary, the daughter of Joachim,\ndropped the wimple entirely, and bared her head. Joseph told the story\nof the Philistines surprised in their camp there by David. He was\ntedious in the narrative, speaking with the solemn countenance and\nlifeless manner of a dull man. She did not always hear him.\n\nWherever on the land men go, and on the sea ships, the face and figure\nof the Jew are familiar. The physical type of the race has always been\nthe same; yet there have been some individual variations. \u201cNow he was\nruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance, and goodly to look to.\u201d\nSuch was the son of Jesse when brought before Samuel. The fancies of\nmen have been ever since ruled by the description. Poetic license has\nextended the peculiarities of the ancestor to his notable descendants.\nSo all our ideal Solomons have fair faces, and hair and beard chestnut\nin the shade, and of the tint of gold in the sun. Such, we are also\nmade believe, were the locks of Absalom the beloved. And, in the\nabsence of authentic history, tradition has dealt no less lovingly by\nher whom we are now following down to the native city of the ruddy\nking.\n\nShe was not more than fifteen. Her form, voice, and manner belonged to\nthe period of transition from girlhood. Her face was perfectly oval,\nher complexion more pale than fair. The nose was faultless; the lips,\nslightly parted, were full and ripe, giving to the lines of the mouth\nwarmth, tenderness, and trust; the eyes were blue and large, and shaded\nby drooping lids and long lashes; and, in harmony with all, a flood of\ngolden hair, in the style permitted to Jewish brides, fell unconfined\ndown her back to the pillion on which she sat. The throat and neck had\nthe downy softness sometimes seen which leaves the artist in doubt\nwhether it is an effect of contour or color. To these charms of feature\nand person were added others more indefinable\u2014an air of purity which\nonly the soul can impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think\nmuch of things impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her\neyes to heaven, itself not more deeply blue; often she crossed her\nhands upon her breast, as in adoration and prayer; often she raised her\nhead like one listening eagerly for a calling voice. Now and then,\nmidst his slow utterances, Joseph turned to look at her, and, catching\nthe expression kindling her face as with light, forgot his theme, and\nwith bowed head, wondering, plodded on.\n\nSo they skirted the great plain, and at length reached the elevation\nMar Elias; from which, across a valley, they beheld Bethlehem, the old,\nold House of Bread, its white walls crowning a ridge, and shining above\nthe brown scumbling of leafless orchards. They paused there, and\nrested, while Joseph pointed out the places of sacred renown; then they\nwent down into the valley to the well which was the scene of one of the\nmarvellous exploits of David\u2019s strong men. The narrow space was crowded\nwith people and animals. A fear came upon Joseph\u2014a fear lest, if the\ntown were so thronged, there might not be house-room for the gentle\nMary. Without delay, he hurried on, past the pillar of stone marking\nthe tomb of Rachel, up the gardened slope, saluting none of the many\npersons he met on the way, until he stopped before the portal of the\nkhan that then stood outside the village gates, near a junction of\nroads.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nTo understand thoroughly what happened to the Nazarene at the khan, the\nreader must be reminded that Eastern inns were different from the inns\nof the Western world. They were called khans, from the Persian, and, in\nsimplest form, were fenced enclosures, without house or shed, often\nwithout a gate or entrance. Their sites were chosen with reference to\nshade, defence, or water. Such were the inns that sheltered Jacob when\nhe went to seek a wife in Padan-Aram. Their like may been seen at this\nday in the stopping-places of the desert. On the other hand, some of\nthem, especially those on the roads between great cities, like\nJerusalem and Alexandria, were princely establishments, monuments to\nthe piety of the kings who built them. In ordinary, however, they were\nno more than the house or possession of a sheik, in which, as in\nheadquarters, he swayed his tribe. Lodging the traveller was the least\nof their uses; they were markets, factories, forts; places of\nassemblage and residence for merchants and artisans quite as much as\nplaces of shelter for belated and wandering wayfarers. Within their\nwalls, all the year round, occurred the multiplied daily transactions\nof a town.\n\nThe singular management of these hostelries was the feature likely to\nstrike a Western mind with most force. There was no host or hostess; no\nclerk, cook, or kitchen; a steward at the gate was all the assertion of\ngovernment or proprietorship anywhere visible. Strangers arriving\nstayed at will without rendering account. A consequence of the system\nwas that whoever came had to bring his food and culinary outfit with\nhim, or buy them of dealers in the khan. The same rule held good as to\nhis bed and bedding, and forage for his beasts. Water, rest, shelter,\nand protection were all he looked for from the proprietor, and they\nwere gratuities. The peace of synagogues was sometimes broken by\nbrawling disputants, but that of the khans never. The houses and all\ntheir appurtenances were sacred: a well was not more so.\n\nThe khan at Bethlehem, before which Joseph and his wife stopped, was a\ngood specimen of its class, being neither very primitive nor very\nprincely. The building was purely Oriental; that is to say, a\nquadrangular block of rough stones, one story high, flat-roofed,\nexternally unbroken by a window, and with but one principal entrance\u2014a\ndoorway, which was also a gateway, on the eastern side, or front. The\nroad ran by the door so near that the chalk dust half covered the\nlintel. A fence of flat rocks, beginning at the northeastern corner of\nthe pile, extended many yards down the slope to a point from whence it\nswept westwardly to a limestone bluff; making what was in the highest\ndegree essential to a respectable khan\u2014a safe enclosure for animals.\n\nIn a village like Bethlehem, as there was but one sheik, there could\nnot well be more than one khan; and, though born in the place, the\nNazarene, from long residence elsewhere, had no claim to hospitality in\nthe town. Moreover, the enumeration for which he was coming might be\nthe work of weeks or months; Roman deputies in the provinces were\nproverbially slow; and to impose himself and wife for a period so\nuncertain upon acquaintances or relations was out of the question. So,\nbefore he drew nigh the great house, while he was yet climbing the\nslope, in the steep places toiling to hasten the donkey, the fear that\nhe might not find accommodations in the khan became a painful anxiety;\nfor he found the road thronged with men and boys who, with great ado,\nwere taking their cattle, horses, and camels to and from the valley,\nsome to water, some to the neighboring caves. And when he was come\nclose by, his alarm was not allayed by the discovery of a crowd\ninvesting the door of the establishment, while the enclosure adjoining,\nbroad as it was, seemed already full.\n\n\u201cWe cannot reach the door,\u201d Joseph said, in his slow way. \u201cLet us stop\nhere, and learn, if we can, what has happened.\u201d\n\nThe wife, without answering, quietly drew the wimple aside. The look of\nfatigue at first upon her face changed to one of interest. She found\nherself at the edge of an assemblage that could not be other than a\nmatter of curiosity to her, although it was common enough at the khans\non any of the highways which the great caravans were accustomed to\ntraverse. There were men on foot, running hither and thither, talking\nshrilly and in all the tongues of Syria; men on horseback screaming to\nmen on camels; men struggling doubtfully with fractious cows and\nfrightened sheep; men peddling bread and wine; and among the mass a\nherd of boys apparently in chase of a herd of dogs. Everybody and\neverything seemed to be in motion at the same time. Possibly the fair\nspectator was too weary to be long attracted by the scene; in a little\nwhile she sighed, and settled down on the pillion, and, as if in search\nof peace and rest, or in expectation of some one, looked off to the\nsouth, and up to the tall cliffs of the Mount of Paradise, then faintly\nreddening under the setting sun.\n\nWhile she was thus looking, a man pushed his way out of the press, and,\nstopping close by the donkey, faced about with an angry brow. The\nNazarene spoke to him.\n\n\u201cAs I am what I take you to be, good friend\u2014a son of Judah\u2014may I ask\nthe cause of this multitude?\u201d\n\nThe stranger turned fiercely; but, seeing the solemn countenance of\nJoseph, so in keeping with his deep, slow voice and speech, he raised\nhis hand in half-salutation, and replied,\n\n\u201cPeace be to you, Rabbi! I am a son of Judah, and will answer you. I\ndwell in Beth-Dagon, which, you know, is in what used to be the land of\nthe tribe of Dan.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the road to Joppa from Modin,\u201d said Joseph.\n\n\u201cAh, you have been in Beth-Dagon,\u201d the man said, his face softening yet\nmore. \u201cWhat wanderers we of Judah are! I have been away from the\nridge\u2014old Ephrath, as our father Jacob called it\u2014for many years. When\nthe proclamation went abroad requiring all Hebrews to be numbered at\nthe cities of their birth\u2014 That is my business here, Rabbi.\u201d\n\nJoseph\u2019s face remained stolid as a mask, while he remarked, \u201cI have\ncome for that also\u2014I and my wife.\u201d\n\nThe stranger glanced at Mary and kept silence. She was looking up at\nthe bald top of Gedor. The sun touched her upturned face, and filled\nthe violet depths of her eyes, and upon her parted lips trembled an\naspiration which could not have been to a mortal. For the moment, all\nthe humanity of her beauty seemed refined away: she was as we fancy\nthey are who sit close by the gate in the transfiguring light of\nHeaven. The Beth-Dagonite saw the original of what, centuries after,\ncame as a vision of genius to Sanzio the divine, and left him immortal.\n\n\u201cOf what was I speaking? Ah! I remember. I was about to say that when I\nheard of the order to come here, I was angry. Then I thought of the old\nhill, and the town, and the valley falling away into the depths of\nCedron; of the vines and orchards, and fields of grain, unfailing since\nthe days of Boaz and Ruth, of the familiar mountains\u2014Gedor here, Gibeah\nyonder, Mar Elias there\u2014which, when I was a boy, were the walls of the\nworld to me; and I forgave the tyrants and came\u2014I, and Rachel, my wife,\nand Deborah and Michal, our roses of Sharon.\u201d\n\nThe man paused again, looking abruptly at Mary, who was now looking at\nhim and listening. Then he said, \u201cRabbi, will not your wife go to mine?\nYou may see her yonder with the children, under the leaning olive-tree\nat the bend of the road. I tell you\u201d\u2014he turned to Joseph and spoke\npositively\u2014\u201cI tell you the khan is full. It is useless to ask at the\ngate.\u201d\n\nJoseph\u2019s will was slow, like his mind; he hesitated, but at length\nreplied, \u201cThe offer is kind. Whether there be room for us or not in the\nhouse, we will go see your people. Let me speak to the gate-keeper\nmyself. I will return quickly.\u201d\n\nAnd, putting the leading-strap in the stranger\u2019s hand, he pushed into\nthe stirring crowd.\n\nThe keeper sat on a great cedar block outside the gate. Against the\nwall behind him leaned a javelin. A dog squatted on the block by his\nside.\n\n\u201cThe peace of Jehovah be with you,\u201d said Joseph, at last confronting\nthe keeper.\n\n\u201cWhat you give, may you find again; and, when found, be it many times\nmultiplied to you and yours,\u201d returned the watchman, gravely, though\nwithout moving.\n\n\u201cI am a Bethlehemite,\u201d said Joseph, in his most deliberate way. \u201cIs\nthere not room for\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is not.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may have heard of me\u2014Joseph of Nazareth. This is the house of my\nfathers. I am of the line of David.\u201d\n\nThese words held the Nazarene\u2019s hope. If they failed him, further\nappeal was idle, even that of the offer of many shekels. To be a son of\nJudah was one thing\u2014in the tribal opinion a great thing; to be of the\nhouse of David was yet another; on the tongue of a Hebrew there could\nbe no higher boast. A thousand years and more had passed since the\nboyish shepherd became the successor of Saul and founded a royal\nfamily. Wars, calamities, other kings, and the countless obscuring\nprocesses of time had, as respects fortune, lowered his descendants to\nthe common Jewish level; the bread they ate came to them of toil never\nmore humble; yet they had the benefit of history sacredly kept, of\nwhich genealogy was the first chapter and the last; they could not\nbecome unknown, while, wherever they went In Israel, acquaintance drew\nafter it a respect amounting to reverence.\n\nIf this were so in Jerusalem and elsewhere, certainly one of the sacred\nline might reasonably rely upon it at the door of the khan of\nBethlehem. To say, as Joseph said, \u201cThis is the house of my fathers,\u201d\nwas to say the truth most simply and literally; for it was the very\nhouse Ruth ruled as the wife of Boaz, the very house in which Jesse and\nhis ten sons, David the youngest, were born, the very house in which\nSamuel came seeking a king, and found him; the very house which David\ngave to the son of Barzillai, the friendly Gileadite; the very house in\nwhich Jeremiah, by prayer, rescued the remnant of his race flying\nbefore the Babylonians.\n\nThe appeal was not without effect. The keeper of the gate slid down\nfrom the cedar block, and, laying his hand upon his beard, said,\nrespectfully, \u201cRabbi, I cannot tell you when this door first opened in\nwelcome to the traveller, but it was more than a thousand years ago;\nand in all that time there is no known instance of a good man turned\naway, save when there was no room to rest him in. If it has been so\nwith the stranger, just cause must the steward have who says no to one\nof the line of David. Wherefore, I salute you again; and, if you care\nto go with me, I will show you that there is not a lodging-place left\nin the house; neither in the chambers, nor in the lewens, nor in the\ncourt\u2014not even on the roof. May I ask when you came?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut now.\u201d\n\nThe keeper smiled.\n\n\u201c\u2018The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be as one born among you,\nand thou shalt love him as thyself.\u2019 Is not that the law, Rabbi?\u201d\n\nJoseph was silent.\n\n\u201cIf it be the law, can I say to one a long time come, \u2018Go thy way;\nanother is here to take thy place?\u2019\u201d\n\nYet Joseph held his peace.\n\n\u201cAnd, if I said so, to whom would the place belong? See the many that\nhave been waiting, some of them since noon.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are all these people?\u201d asked Joseph, turning to the crowd. \u201cAnd\nwhy are they here at this time?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat which doubtless brought you, Rabbi\u2014the decree of the C\u00e6sar\u201d\u2014the\nkeeper threw an interrogative glance at the Nazarene, then\ncontinued\u2014\u201cbrought most of those who have lodging in the house. And\nyesterday the caravan passing from Damascus to Arabia and Lower Egypt\narrived. These you see here belong to it\u2014men and camels.\u201d\n\nStill Joseph persisted.\n\n\u201cThe court is large,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cYes, but it is heaped with cargoes\u2014with bales of silk, and pockets of\nspices, and goods of every kind.\u201d\n\nThen for a moment the face of the applicant lost its stolidity; the\nlustreless, staring eyes dropped. With some warmth he next said, \u201cI do\nnot care for myself, but I have with me my wife, and the night is\ncold\u2014colder on these heights than in Nazareth. She cannot live in the\nopen air. Is there not room in the town?\u201d\n\n\u201cThese people\u201d\u2014the keeper waved his hand to the throng before the\ndoor\u2014\u201chave all besought the town, and they report its accommodations\nall engaged.\u201d\n\nAgain Joseph studied the ground, saying, half to himself, \u201cShe is so\nyoung! if I make her bed on the hill, the frosts will kill her.\u201d\n\nThen he spoke to the keeper again.\n\n\u201cIt may be you knew her parents, Joachim and Anna, once of Bethlehem,\nand, like myself, of the line of David.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I knew them. They were good people. That was in my youth.\u201d\n\nThis time the keeper\u2019s eyes sought the ground in thought. Suddenly he\nraised his head.\n\n\u201cIf I cannot make room for you,\u201d he said, \u201cI cannot turn you away.\nRabbi, I will do the best I can for you. How many are of your party?\u201d\n\nJoseph reflected, then replied, \u201cMy wife and a friend with his family,\nfrom Beth-Dagon, a little town over by Joppa; in all, six of us.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well. You shall not lie out on the ridge. Bring your people, and\nhasten; for, when the sun goes down behind the mountain, you know the\nnight comes quickly, and it is nearly there now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI give you the blessing of the houseless traveller; that of the\nsojourner will follow.\u201d\n\nSo saying, the Nazarene went back joyfully to Mary and the\nBeth-Dagonite. In a little while the latter brought up his family, the\nwomen mounted on donkeys. The wife was matronly, the daughters were\nimages of what she must have been in youth; and as they drew nigh the\ndoor, the keeper knew them to be of the humble class.\n\n\u201cThis is she of whom I spoke,\u201d said the Nazarene; \u201cand these are our\nfriends.\u201d\n\nMary\u2019s veil was raised.\n\n\u201cBlue eyes and hair of gold,\u201d muttered the steward to himself, seeing\nbut her. \u201cSo looked the young king when he went to sing before Saul.\u201d\n\nThen he took the leading-strap from Joseph, and said to Mary, \u201cPeace to\nyou, O daughter of David!\u201d Then to the others, \u201cPeace to you all!\u201d Then\nto Joseph, \u201cRabbi, follow me.\u201d\n\nThe party were conducted into a wide passage paved with stone, from\nwhich they entered the court of the khan. To a stranger the scene would\nhave been curious; but they noticed the lewens that yawned darkly upon\nthem from all sides, and the court itself, only to remark how crowded\nthey were. By a lane reserved in the stowage of the cargoes, and thence\nby a passage similar to the one at the entrance, they emerged into the\nenclosure adjoining the house, and came upon camels, horses, and\ndonkeys, tethered and dozing in close groups; among them were the\nkeepers, men of many lands; and they, too, slept or kept silent watch.\nThey went down the slope of the crowded yard slowly, for the dull\ncarriers of the women had wills of their own. At length they turned\ninto a path running towards the gray limestone bluff overlooking the\nkhan on the west.\n\n\u201cWe are going to the cave,\u201d said Joseph, laconically.\n\nThe guide lingered till Mary came to his side.\n\n\u201cThe cave to which we are going,\u201d he said to her, \u201cmust have been a\nresort of your ancestor David. From the field below us, and from the\nwell down in the valley, he used to drive his flocks to it for safety;\nand afterwards, when he was king, he came back to the old house here\nfor rest and health, bringing great trains of animals. The mangers yet\nremain as they were in his day. Better a bed on the floor where he has\nslept than one in the court-yard or out by the roadside. Ah, here is\nthe house before the cave!\u201d\n\nThis speech must not be taken as an apology for the lodging offered.\nThere was no need of apology. The place was the best then at disposal.\nThe guests were simple folks, by habits of life easily satisfied. To\nthe Jew of that period, moreover, abode in caverns was a familiar idea,\nmade so by every-day occurrences, and by what he heard of Sabbaths in\nthe synagogues. How much of Jewish history, how many of the many\nexciting incidents in that history, had transpired in caves! Yet\nfurther, these people were Jews of Bethlehem, with whom the idea was\nespecially commonplace; for their locality abounded with caves great\nand small, some of which had been dwelling-places from the time of the\nEmim and Horites. No more was there offence to them in the fact that\nthe cavern to which they were being taken had been, or was, a stable.\nThey were the descendants of a race of herdsmen, whose flocks\nhabitually shared both their habitations and wanderings. In keeping\nwith a custom derived from Abraham, the tent of the Bedawin yet\nshelters his horses and children alike. So they obeyed the keeper\ncheerfully, and gazed at the house, feeling only a natural curiosity.\nEverything associated with the history of David was interesting to\nthem.\n\nThe building was low and narrow, projecting but a little from the rock\nto which it was joined at the rear, and wholly without a window. In its\nblank front there was a door, swung on enormous hinges, and thickly\ndaubed with ochreous clay. While the wooden bolt of the lock was being\npushed back, the women were assisted from their pillions. Upon the\nopening of the door, the keeper called out,\n\n\u201cCome in!\u201d\n\nThe guests entered, and stared about them. It became apparent\nimmediately that the house was but a mask or covering for the mouth of\na natural cave or grotto, probably forty feet long, nine or ten high,\nand twelve or fifteen in width. The light streamed through the doorway,\nover an uneven floor, falling upon piles of grain and fodder, and\nearthenware and household property, occupying the centre of the\nchamber. Along the sides were mangers, low enough for sheep, and built\nof stones laid in cement. There were no stalls or partitions of any\nkind. Dust and chaff yellowed the floor, filled all the crevices and\nhollows, and thickened the spider-webs, which dropped from the ceiling\nlike bits of dirty linen; otherwise the place was cleanly, and, to\nappearance, as comfortable as any of the arched lewens of the khan\nproper. In fact, a cave was the model and first suggestion of the\nlewen.\n\n\u201cCome in!\u201d said the guide. \u201cThese piles upon the floor are for\ntravellers like yourselves. Take what of them you need.\u201d\n\nThen he spoke to Mary.\n\n\u201cCan you rest here?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe place is sanctified,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cI leave you then. Peace be with you all!\u201d\n\nWhen he was gone, they busied themselves making the cave habitable.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n\nAt a certain hour in the evening the shouting and stir of the people in\nand about the khan ceased; at the same time, every Israelite, if not\nalready upon his feet, arose, solemnized his face, looked towards\nJerusalem, crossed his hands upon his breast, and prayed; for it was\nthe sacred ninth hour, when sacrifices were offered in the temple on\nMoriah, and God was supposed to be there. When the hands of the\nworshippers fell down, the commotion broke forth again; everybody\nhastened to bread, or to make his pallet. A little later, the lights\nwere put out, and there was silence, and then sleep.\n\n\nAbout midnight some one on the roof cried out, \u201cWhat light is that in\nthe sky? Awake, brethren, awake and see!\u201d\n\nThe people, half asleep, sat up and looked; then they became\nwide-awake, though wonder-struck. And the stir spread to the court\nbelow, and into the lewens; soon the entire tenantry of the house and\ncourt and enclosure were out gazing at the sky.\n\nAnd this was what they saw. A ray of light, beginning at a height\nimmeasurably beyond the nearest stars, and dropping obliquely to the\nearth; at its top, a diminishing point; at its base, many furlongs in\nwidth; its sides blending softly with the darkness of the night, its\ncore a roseate electrical splendor. The apparition seemed to rest on\nthe nearest mountain southeast of the town, making a pale corona along\nthe line of the summit. The khan was touched luminously, so that those\nupon the roof saw each other\u2019s faces, all filled with wonder.\n\nSteadily, through minutes, the ray lingered, and then the wonder\nchanged to awe and fear; the timid trembled; the boldest spoke in\nwhispers.\n\n\u201cSaw you ever the like?\u201d asked one.\n\n\u201cIt seems just over the mountain there. I cannot tell what it is, nor\ndid I ever see anything like it,\u201d was the answer.\n\n\u201cCan it be that a star has burst and fallen?\u201d asked another, his tongue\nfaltering.\n\n\u201cWhen a star falls, its light goes out.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have it!\u201d cried one, confidently. \u201cThe shepherds have seen a lion,\nand made fires to keep him from the flocks.\u201d\n\nThe men next the speaker drew a breath of relief, and said, \u201cYes, that\nis it! The flocks were grazing in the valley over there to-day.\u201d\n\nA bystander dispelled the comfort.\n\n\u201cNo, no! Though all the wood in all the valleys of Judah was brought\ntogether in one pile and fired, the blaze would not throw a light so\nstrong and high.\u201d\n\nAfter that there was silence on the house-top, broken but once again\nwhile the mystery continued.\n\n\u201cBrethren!\u201d exclaimed a Jew of venerable mien, \u201cwhat we see is the\nladder our father Jacob saw in his dream. Blessed be the Lord God of\nour fathers!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nA mile and a half, it may be two miles, southeast of Bethlehem, there\nis a plain separated from the town by an intervening swell of the\nmountain. Besides being well sheltered from the north winds, the vale\nwas covered with a growth of sycamore, dwarf-oak, and pine trees, while\nin the glens and ravines adjoining there were thickets of olive and\nmulberry; all at this season of the year invaluable for the support of\nsheep, goats, and cattle, of which the wandering flocks consisted.\n\nAt the side farthest from the town, close under a bluff, there was an\nextensive marah, or sheepcot, ages old. In some long-forgotten foray,\nthe building had been unroofed and almost demolished. The enclosure\nattached to it remained intact, however, and that was of more\nimportance to the shepherds who drove their charges thither than the\nhouse itself. The stone wall around the lot was high as a man\u2019s head,\nyet not so high but that sometimes a panther or a lion, hungering from\nthe wilderness, leaped boldly in. On the inner side of the wall, and as\nan additional security against the constant danger, a hedge of the\nrhamnus had been planted, an invention so successful that now a sparrow\ncould hardly penetrate the overtopping branches, armed as they were\nwith great clusters of thorns hard as spikes.\n\nThe day of the occurrences which occupy the preceding chapters, a\nnumber of shepherds, seeking fresh walks for their flocks, led them up\nto this plain; and from early morning the groves had been made ring\nwith calls, and the blows of axes, the bleating of sheep and goats, the\ntinkling of bells, the lowing of cattle, and the barking of dogs. When\nthe sun went down, they led the way to the marah, and by nightfall had\neverything safe in the field; then they kindled a fire down by the\ngate, partook of their humble supper, and sat down to rest and talk,\nleaving one on watch.\n\nThere were six of these men, omitting the watchman; and afterwhile they\nassembled in a group near the fire, some sitting, some lying prone. As\nthey went bareheaded habitually, their hair stood out in thick, coarse,\nsunburnt shocks; their beard covered their throats, and fell in mats\ndown the breast; mantles of the skin of kids and lambs, with the fleece\non, wrapped them from neck to knee, leaving the arms exposed; broad\nbelts girthed the rude garments to their waists; their sandals were of\nthe coarsest quality; from their right shoulders hung scrips containing\nfood and selected stones for slings, with which they were armed; on the\nground near each one lay his crook, a symbol of his calling and a\nweapon of offence.\n\nSuch were the shepherds of Judea! In appearance, rough and savage as\nthe gaunt dogs sitting with them around the blaze; in fact,\nsimple-minded, tender-hearted; effects due, in part, to the primitive\nlife they led, but chiefly to their constant care of things lovable and\nhelpless.\n\nThey rested and talked, and their talk was all about their flocks, a\ndull theme to the world, yet a theme which was all the world to them.\nIf in narrative they dwelt long upon affairs of trifling moment; if one\nof them omitted nothing of detail in recounting the loss of a lamb, the\nrelation between him and the unfortunate should be remembered: at birth\nit became his charge, his to keep all its days, to help over the\nfloods, to carry down the hollows, to name and train; it was to be his\ncompanion, his object of thought and interest, the subject of his will;\nit was to enliven and share his wanderings; in its defense he might be\ncalled on to face the lion or robber\u2014to die.\n\nThe great events, such as blotted out nations and changed the mastery\nof the world, were trifles to them, if perchance they came to their\nknowledge. Of what Herod was doing in this city or that, building\npalaces and gymnasia, and indulging forbidden practises, they\noccasionally heard. As was her habit in those days, Rome did not wait\nfor people slow to inquire about her; she came to them. Over the hills\nalong which he was leading his lagging herd, or in the fastnesses in\nwhich he was hiding them, not unfrequently the shepherd was startled by\nthe blare of trumpets, and, peering out, beheld a cohort, sometimes a\nlegion, in march; and when the glittering crests were gone, and the\nexcitement incident to the intrusion over, he bent himself to evolve\nthe meaning of the eagles and gilded globes of the soldiery, and the\ncharm of a life so the opposite of his own.\n\nYet these men, rude and simple as they were, had a knowledge and a\nwisdom of their own. On Sabbaths they were accustomed to purify\nthemselves, and go up into the synagogues, and sit on the benches\nfarthest from the ark. When the chazzan bore the Torah round, none\nkissed it with greater zest; when the sheliach read the text, none\nlistened to the interpreter with more absolute faith; and none took\naway with them more of the elder\u2019s sermon, or gave it more thought\nafterwards. In a verse of the Shema they found all the learning and all\nthe law of their simple lives\u2014that their Lord was One God, and that\nthey must love him with all their souls. And they loved him, and such\nwas their wisdom, surpassing that of kings.\n\nWhile they talked, and before the first watch was over, one by one the\nshepherds went to sleep, each lying where he had sat.\n\nThe night, like most nights of the winter season in the hill country,\nwas clear, crisp, and sparkling with stars. There was no wind. The\natmosphere seemed never so pure, and the stillness was more than\nsilence; it was a holy hush, a warning that heaven was stooping low to\nwhisper some good thing to the listening earth.\n\nBy the gate, hugging his mantle close, the watchman walked; at times he\nstopped, attracted by a stir among the sleeping herds, or by a jackal\u2019s\ncry off on the mountain-side. The midnight was slow coming to him; but\nat last it came. His task was done; now for the dreamless sleep with\nwhich labor blesses its wearied children! He moved towards the fire,\nbut paused; a light was breaking around him, soft and white, like the\nmoon\u2019s. He waited breathlessly. The light deepened; things before\ninvisible came to view; he saw the whole field, and all it sheltered. A\nchill sharper than that of the frosty air\u2014a chill of fear\u2014smote him. He\nlooked up; the stars were gone; the light was dropping as from a window\nin the sky; as he looked, it became a splendor; then, in terror, he\ncried,\n\n\u201cAwake, awake!\u201d\n\nUp sprang the dogs, and, howling, ran away.\n\nThe herds rushed together bewildered.\n\nThe men clambered to their feet, weapons in hand.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d they asked, in one voice.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d cried the watchman, \u201cthe sky is on fire!\u201d\n\nSuddenly the light became intolerably bright, and they covered their\neyes, and dropped upon their knees; then, as their souls shrank with\nfear, they fell upon their faces blind and fainting, and would have\ndied had not a voice said to them,\n\n\u201cFear not!\u201d\n\nAnd they listened.\n\n\u201cFear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which\nshall be to all people.\u201d\n\nThe voice, in sweetness and soothing more than human, and low and\nclear, penetrated all their being, and filled them with assurance. They\nrose upon their knees, and, looking worshipfully, beheld in the centre\nof a great glory the appearance of a man, clad in a robe intensely\nwhite; above its shoulders towered the tops of wings shining and\nfolded; a star over its forehead glowed with steady lustre, brilliant\nas Hesperus; its hands were stretched towards them in blessing; its\nface was serene and divinely beautiful.\n\nThey had often heard, and, in their simple way, talked, of angels; and\nthey doubted not now, but said, in their hearts, The glory of God is\nabout us, and this is he who of old came to the prophet by the river of\nUlai.\n\nDirectly the angel continued:\n\n\u201cFor unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior, which\nis Christ the Lord!\u201d\n\nAgain there was a rest, while the words sank into their minds.\n\n\u201cAnd this shall be a sign unto you,\u201d the annunciator said next. \u201cYe\nshall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger.\u201d\n\nThe herald spoke not again; his good tidings were told; yet he stayed\nawhile. Suddenly the light, of which he seemed the centre, turned\nroseate and began to tremble; then up, far as the men could see, there\nwas flashing of white wings, and coming and going of radiant forms, and\nvoices as of a multitude chanting in unison,\n\n\u201cGlory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will towards\nmen!\u201d\n\nNot once the praise, but many times.\n\nThen the herald raised his eyes as seeking approval of one far off; his\nwings stirred, and spread slowly and majestically, on their upper side\nwhite as snow, in the shadow vari-tinted, like mother-of-pearl; when\nthey were expanded many cubits beyond his stature, he arose lightly,\nand, without effort, floated out of view, taking the light up with him.\nLong after he was gone, down from the sky fell the refrain in measure\nmellowed by distance, \u201cGlory to God in the highest, and on earth peace,\ngood-will towards men.\u201d\n\nWhen the shepherds came fully to their senses, they stared at each\nother stupidly, until one of them said, \u201cIt was Gabriel, the Lord\u2019s\nmessenger unto men.\u201d\n\nNone answered.\n\n\u201cChrist the Lord is born; said he not so?\u201d\n\nThen another recovered his voice, and replied, \u201cThat is what he said.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd did he not also say, in the city of David, which is our Bethlehem\nyonder. And that we should find him a babe in swaddling-clothes?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd lying in a manger.\u201d\n\nThe first speaker gazed into the fire thoughtfully, but at length said,\nlike one possessed of a sudden resolve, \u201cThere is but one place in\nBethlehem where there are mangers; but one, and that is in the cave\nnear the old khan. Brethren, let us go see this thing which has come to\npass. The priests and doctors have been a long time looking for the\nChrist. Now he is born, and the Lord has given us a sign by which to\nknow him. Let us go up and worship him.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the flocks!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Lord will take care of them. Let us make haste.\u201d\n\nThen they all arose and left the marah.\n\n\nAround the mountain and through the town they passed, and came to the\ngate of the khan, where there was a man on watch.\n\n\u201cWhat would you have?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cWe have seen and heard great things to-night,\u201d they replied.\n\n\u201cWell, we, too, have seen great things, but heard nothing. What did you\nhear?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us go down to the cave in the enclosure, that we may be sure; then\nwe will tell you all. Come with us, and see for yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a fool\u2019s errand.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, the Christ is born.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Christ! How do you know?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us go and see first.\u201d\n\nThe man laughed scornfully.\n\n\u201cThe Christ indeed! How are you to know him?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was born this night, and is now lying in a manger, so we were told;\nand there is but one place in Bethlehem with mangers.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe cave?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Come with us.\u201d\n\nThey went through the court-yard without notice, although there were\nsome up even then talking about the wonderful light. The door of the\ncavern was open. A lantern was burning within, and they entered\nunceremoniously.\n\n\u201cI give you peace,\u201d the watchman said to Joseph and the Beth Dagonite.\n\u201cHere are people looking for a child born this night, whom they are to\nknow by finding him in swaddling-clothes and lying in a manger.\u201d\n\nFor a moment the face of the stolid Nazarene was moved; turning away,\nhe said, \u201cThe child is here.\u201d\n\nThey were led to one of the mangers, and there the child was. The\nlantern was brought, and the shepherds stood by mute. The little one\nmade no sign; it was as others just born.\n\n\u201cWhere is the mother?\u201d asked the watchman.\n\nOne of the women took the baby, and went to Mary, lying near, and put\nit in her arms. Then the bystanders collected about the two.\n\n\u201cIt is the Christ!\u201d said a shepherd, at last.\n\n\u201cThe Christ!\u201d they all repeated, falling upon their knees in worship.\nOne of them repeated several times over,\n\n\u201cIt is the Lord, and his glory is above the earth and heaven.\u201d\n\nAnd the simple men, never doubting, kissed the hem of the mother\u2019s\nrobe, and with joyful faces departed. In the khan, to all the people\naroused and pressing about them, they told their story; and through the\ntown, and all the way back to the marah, they chanted the refrain of\nthe angels, \u201cGlory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will\ntowards men!\u201d\n\nThe story went abroad, confirmed by the light so generally seen; and\nthe next day, and for days thereafter, the cave was visited by curious\ncrowds, of whom some believed, though the greater part laughed and\nmocked.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nThe eleventh day after the birth of the child in the cave, about\nmid-afternoon, the three wise men approached Jerusalem by the road from\nShechem. After crossing Brook Cedron, they met many people, of whom\nnone failed to stop and look after them curiously.\n\nJudea was of necessity an international thoroughfare; a narrow ridge,\nraised, apparently, by the pressure of the desert on the east, and the\nsea on the west, was all she could claim to be; over the ridge,\nhowever, nature had stretched the line of trade between the east and\nthe south; and that was her wealth. In other words, the riches of\nJerusalem were the tolls she levied on passing commerce. Nowhere else,\nconsequently, unless in Rome, was there such constant assemblage of so\nmany people of so many different nations; in no other city was a\nstranger less strange to the residents than within her walls and\npurlieus. And yet these three men excited the wonder of all whom they\nmet on the way to the gates.\n\nA child belonging to some women sitting by the roadside opposite the\nTombs of the Kings saw the party coming; immediately it clapped its\nhands, and cried, \u201cLook, look! What pretty bells! What big camels!\u201d\n\nThe bells were silver; the camels, as we have seen, were of unusual\nsize and whiteness, and moved with singular stateliness; the trappings\ntold of the desert and of long journeys thereon, and also of ample\nmeans in possession of the owners, who sat under the little canopies\nexactly as they appeared at the rendezvous beyond the Jebel. Yet it was\nnot the bells or the camels, or their furniture, or the demeanor of the\nriders, that were so wonderful; it was the question put by the man who\nrode foremost of the three.\n\nThe approach to Jerusalem from the north is across a plain which dips\nsouthward, leaving the Damascus Gate in a vale or hollow. The road is\nnarrow, but deeply cut by long use, and in places difficult on account\nof the cobbles left loose and dry by the washing of the rains. On\neither side, however, there stretched, in the old time, rich fields and\nhandsome olive-groves, which must, in luxurious growth, have been\nbeautiful, especially to travellers fresh from the wastes of the\ndesert. In this road, the three stopped before the party in front of\nthe Tombs.\n\n\u201cGood people,\u201d said Balthasar, stroking his plaited beard, and bending\nfrom his cot, \u201cis not Jerusalem close by?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered the woman into whose arms the child had shrunk. \u201cIf the\ntrees on yon swell were a little lower you could see the towers on the\nmarket-place.\u201d\n\nBalthasar gave the Greek and the Hindoo a look, then asked,\n\n\u201cWhere is he that is born King of the Jews?\u201d\n\nThe women gazed at each other without reply.\n\n\u201cYou have not heard of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, tell everybody that we have seen his star in the east, and are\ncome to worship him.\u201d\n\nThereupon the friends rode on. Of others they asked the same question,\nwith like result. A large company whom they met going to the Grotto of\nJeremiah were so astonished by the inquiry and the appearance of the\ntravellers that they turned about and followed them into the city.\n\nSo much were the three occupied with the idea of their mission that\nthey did not care for the view which presently rose before them in the\nutmost magnificence: for the village first to receive them on Bezetha;\nfor Mizpah and Olivet, over on their left; for the wall behind the\nvillage, with its forty tall and solid towers, superadded partly for\nstrength, partly to gratify the critical taste of the kingly builder;\nfor the same towered wall bending off to the right, with many an angle,\nand here and there an embattled gate, up to the three great white piles\nPhasaelus, Mariamne, and Hippicus; for Zion, tallest of the hills,\ncrowned with marble palaces, and never so beautiful; for the glittering\nterraces of the temple on Moriah, admittedly one of the wonders of the\nearth; for the regal mountains rimming the sacred city round about\nuntil it seemed in the hollow of a mighty bowl.\n\nThey came, at length, to a tower of great height and strength,\noverlooking the gate which, at that time, answered to the present\nDamascus Gate, and marked the meeting-place of the three roads from\nShechem, Jericho, and Gibeon. A Roman guard kept the passage-way. By\nthis time the people following the camels formed a train sufficient to\ndraw the idlers hanging about the portal; so that when Balthasar\nstopped to speak to the sentinel, the three became instantly the centre\nof a close circle eager to hear all that passed.\n\n\u201cI give you peace,\u201d the Egyptian said, in a clear voice.\n\nThe sentinel made no reply.\n\n\u201cWe have come great distances in search of one who is born King of the\nJews. Can you tell us where he is?\u201d\n\nThe soldier raised the visor of his helmet, and called loudly. From an\napartment at the right of the passage an officer appeared.\n\n\u201cGive way,\u201d he cried, to the crowd which now pressed closer in; and as\nthey seemed slow to obey, he advanced twirling his javelin vigorously,\nnow right, now left; and so he gained room.\n\n\u201cWhat would you?\u201d he asked of Balthasar, speaking in the idiom of the\ncity.\n\nAnd Balthasar answered in the same,\n\n\u201cWhere is he that is born King of the Jews?\u201d\n\n\u201cHerod?\u201d asked the officer, confounded.\n\n\u201cHerod\u2019s kingship is from C\u00e6sar; not Herod.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no other King of the Jews.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we have seen the star of him we seek, and come to worship him.\u201d\n\nThe Roman was perplexed.\n\n\u201cGo farther,\u201d he said, at last. \u201cGo farther. I am not a Jew. Carry the\nquestion to the doctors in the Temple, or to Hannas the priest, or,\nbetter still, to Herod himself. If there be another King of the Jews,\nhe will find him.\u201d\n\nThereupon he made way for the strangers, and they passed the gate. But,\nbefore entering the narrow street, Balthasar lingered to say to his\nfriends, \u201cWe are sufficiently proclaimed. By midnight the whole city\nwill have heard of us and of our mission. Let us to the khan now.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\nThat evening, before sunset, some women were washing clothes on the\nupper step of the flight that led down into the basin of the Pool of\nSiloam. They knelt each before a broad bowl of earthenware. A girl at\nthe foot of the steps kept them supplied with water, and sang while she\nfilled the jar. The song was cheerful, and no doubt lightened their\nlabor. Occasionally they would sit upon their heels, and look up the\nslope of Ophel, and round to the summit of what is now the Mount of\nOffence, then faintly glorified by the dying sun.\n\nWhile they plied their hands, rubbing and wringing the clothes in the\nbowls, two other women came to them, each with an empty jar upon her\nshoulder.\n\n\u201cPeace to you,\u201d one of the new-comers said.\n\nThe laborers paused, sat up, wrung the water from their hands, and\nreturned the salutation.\n\n\u201cIt is nearly night\u2014time to quit.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no end to work,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cBut there is a time to rest, and\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cTo hear what may be passing,\u201d interposed another.\n\n\u201cWhat news have you?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you have not heard?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey say the Christ is born,\u201d said the newsmonger, plunging into her\nstory.\n\nIt was curious to see the faces of the laborers brighten with interest;\non the other side down came the jars, which, in a moment, were turned\ninto seats for their owners.\n\n\u201cThe Christ!\u201d the listeners cried.\n\n\u201cSo they say.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cEverybody; it is common talk.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes anybody believe it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis afternoon three men came across Brook Cedron on the road from\nShechem,\u201d the speaker replied, circumstantially, intending to smother\ndoubt. \u201cEach one of them rode a camel spotless white, and larger than\nany ever before seen in Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nThe eyes and mouths of the auditors opened wide.\n\n\u201cTo prove how great and rich the men were,\u201d the narrator continued,\n\u201cthey sat under awnings of silk; the buckles of their saddles were of\ngold, as was the fringe of their bridles; the bells were of silver, and\nmade real music. Nobody knew them; they looked as if they had come from\nthe ends of the world. Only one of them spoke, and of everybody on the\nroad, even the women and children, he asked this question\u2014\u2018Where is he\nthat is born King of the Jews?\u2019 No one gave them answer\u2014no one\nunderstood what they meant; so they passed on, leaving behind them this\nsaying: \u2018For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship\nhim.\u2019 They put the question to the Roman at the gate; and he, no wiser\nthan the simple people on the road, sent them up to Herod.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere are they now?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt the khan. Hundreds have been to look at them already, and hundreds\nmore are going.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cNobody knows. They are said to be Persians\u2014wise men who talk with the\nstars\u2014prophets, it may be, like Elijah and Jeremiah.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do they mean by King of the Jews?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Christ, and that he is just born.\u201d\n\nOne of the women laughed, and resumed her work, saying, \u201cWell, when I\nsee him I will believe.\u201d\n\nAnother followed her example: \u201cAnd I\u2014well, when I see him raise the\ndead, I will believe.\u201d\n\nA third said, quietly, \u201cHe has been a long time promised. It will be\nenough for me to see him heal one leper.\u201d\n\nAnd the party sat talking until the night came, and, with the help of\nthe frosty air, drove them home.\n\n\nLater in the evening, about the beginning of the first watch, there was\nan assemblage in the palace on Mount Zion, of probably fifty persons,\nwho never came together except by order of Herod, and then only when he\nhad demanded to know some one or more of the deeper mysteries of the\nJewish law and history. It was, in short, a meeting of the teachers of\nthe colleges, of the chief priests, and of the doctors most noted in\nthe city for learning\u2014the leaders of opinion, expounders of the\ndifferent creeds; princes of the Sadducees; Pharisaic debaters; calm,\nsoft-spoken, stoical philosophers of the Essene socialists.\n\nThe chamber in which the session was held belonged to one of the\ninterior court-yards of the palace, and was quite large and Romanesque.\nThe floor was tessellated with marble blocks; the walls, unbroken by a\nwindow, were frescoed in panels of saffron yellow; a divan occupied the\ncentre of the apartment, covered with cushions of bright-yellow cloth,\nand fashioned in form of the letter U, the opening towards the doorway;\nin the arch of the divan, or, as it were, in the bend of the letter,\nthere was an immense bronze tripod, curiously inlaid with gold and\nsilver, over which a chandelier dropped from the ceiling, having seven\narms, each holding a lighted lamp. The divan and the lamp were purely\nJewish.\n\nThe company sat upon the divan after the style of Orientals, in costume\nsingularly uniform, except as to color. They were mostly men advanced\nin years; immense beards covered their faces; to their large noses were\nadded the effects of large black eyes, deeply shaded by bold brows;\ntheir demeanor was grave, dignified, even patriarchal. In brief, their\nsession was that of the Sanhedrim.\n\nHe who sat before the tripod, however, in the place which may be called\nthe head of the divan, having all the rest of his associates on his\nright and left, and, at the same time, before him, evidently president\nof the meeting, would have instantly absorbed the attention of a\nspectator. He had been cast in large mould, but was now shrunken and\nstooped to ghastliness; his white robe dropped from his shoulders in\nfolds that gave no hint of muscle or anything but an angular skeleton.\nHis hands, half concealed by sleeves of silk, white and crimson\nstriped, were clasped upon his knees. When he spoke, sometimes the\nfirst finger of the right hand extended tremulously; he seemed\nincapable of other gesture. But his head was a splendid dome. A few\nhairs, whiter than fine-drawn silver, fringed the base; over a broad,\nfull-sphered skull the skin was drawn close, and shone in the light\nwith positive brilliance; the temples were deep hollows, from which the\nforehead beetled like a wrinkled crag; the eyes were wan and dim; the\nnose was pinched; and all the lower face was muffed in a beard flowing\nand venerable as Aaron\u2019s. Such was Hillel the Babylonian! The line of\nprophets, long extinct in Israel, was now succeeded by a line of\nscholars, of whom he was first in learning\u2014a prophet in all but the\ndivine inspiration! At the age of one hundred and six, he was still\nRector of the Great College.\n\nOn the table before him lay outspread a roll or volume of parchment\ninscribed with Hebrew characters; behind him, in waiting, stood a page\nrichly habited.\n\nThere had been discussion, but at this moment of introduction the\ncompany had reached a conclusion; each one was in an attitude of rest,\nand the venerable Hillel, without moving, called the page.\n\n\u201cHist!\u201d\n\nThe youth advanced respectfully.\n\n\u201cGo tell the king we are ready to give him answer.\u201d\n\nThe boy hurried away.\n\nAfter a time two officers entered and stopped, one on each side the\ndoor; after them slowly followed a most striking personage\u2014an old man\nclad in a purple robe bordered with scarlet, and girt to his waist by a\nband of gold linked so fine that it was pliable as leather; the\nlatchets of his shoes sparkled with precious stones; a narrow crown\nwrought in filigree shone outside a tarbooshe of softest crimson plush,\nwhich, encasing his head, fell down the neck and shoulders, leaving the\nthroat and neck exposed. Instead of a seal, a dagger dangled from his\nbelt. He walked with a halting step, leaning heavily upon a staff. Not\nuntil he reached the opening of the divan, did he pause or look up from\nthe floor; then, as for the first time conscious of the company, and\nroused by their presence, he raised himself, and looked haughtily\nround, like one startled and searching for an enemy\u2014so dark,\nsuspicious, and threatening was the glance. Such was Herod the Great\u2014a\nbody broken by diseases, a conscience seared with crimes, a mind\nmagnificently capable, a soul fit for brotherhood with the C\u00e6sars; now\nseven-and-sixty years old, but guarding his throne with a jealousy\nnever so vigilant, a power never so despotic, and a cruelty never so\ninexorable.\n\nThere was a general movement on the part of the assemblage\u2014a bending\nforward in salaam by the more aged, a rising-up by the more courtierly,\nfollowed by low genuflections, hands upon the beard or breast.\n\nHis observations taken, Herod moved on until at the tripod opposite the\nvenerable Hillel, who met his cold glance with an inclination of the\nhead, and a slight lifting of the hands.\n\n\u201cThe answer!\u201d said the king, with imperious simplicity, addressing\nHillel, and planting his staff before him with both hands. \u201cThe\nanswer!\u201d\n\nThe eyes of the patriarch glowed mildly, and, raising his head, and\nlooking the inquisitor full in the face, he answered, his associates\ngiving him closest attention,\n\n\u201cWith thee, O king, be the peace of God, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!\u201d\n\nHis manner was that of invocation; changing it, he resumed:\n\n\u201cThou hast demanded of us where the Christ should be born.\u201d\n\nThe king bowed, though the evil eyes remained fixed upon the sage\u2019s\nface.\n\n\u201cThat is the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, O king, speaking for myself, and all my brethren here, not one\ndissenting, I say, in Bethlehem of Judea.\u201d\n\nHillel glanced at the parchment on the tripod; and, pointing with his\ntremulous finger, continued, \u201cIn Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is\nwritten by the prophet, \u2018And thou, Bethlehem, in the land of Judea, art\nnot the least among the princes of Judah; for out of thee shall come a\ngovernor that shall rule my people Israel.\u2019\u201d\n\nHerod\u2019s face was troubled, and his eyes fell upon the parchment while\nhe thought. Those beholding him scarcely breathed; they spoke not, nor\ndid he. At length he turned about and left the chamber.\n\n\u201cBrethren,\u201d said Hillel, \u201cwe are dismissed.\u201d\n\nThe company then arose, and in groups departed.\n\n\u201cSimeon,\u201d said Hillel again.\n\nA man, quite fifty years old, but in the hearty prime of life, answered\nand came to him.\n\n\u201cTake up the sacred parchment, my son; roll it tenderly.\u201d\n\nThe order was obeyed.\n\n\u201cNow lend me thy arm; I will to the litter.\u201d\n\nThe strong man stooped; with his withered hands the old one took the\noffered support, and, rising, moved feebly to the door.\n\nSo departed the famous Rector, and Simeon, his son, who was to be his\nsuccessor in wisdom, learning, and office.\n\n\nYet later in the evening the wise men were lying in a lewen of the khan\nawake. The stones which served them as pillows raised their heads so\nthey could look out of the open arch into the depths of the sky; and as\nthey watched the twinkling of the stars, they thought of the next\nmanifestation. How would it come? What would it be? They were in\nJerusalem at last; they had asked at the gate for Him they sought; they\nhad borne witness of his birth; it remained only to find him; and as to\nthat, they placed all trust in the Spirit. Men listening for the voice\nof God, or waiting a sign from Heaven, cannot sleep.\n\nWhile they were in this condition, a man stepped in under the arch,\ndarkening the lewen.\n\n\u201cAwake!\u201d he said to them; \u201cI bring you a message which will not be put\noff.\u201d\n\nThey all sat up.\n\n\u201cFrom whom?\u201d asked the Egyptian.\n\n\u201cHerod the king.\u201d\n\nEach one felt his spirit thrill.\n\n\u201cAre you not the steward of the khan?\u201d Balthasar asked next.\n\n\u201cI am.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat would the king with us?\u201d\n\n\u201cHis messenger is without; let him answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell him, then, to abide our coming.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou were right, O my brother!\u201d said the Greek, when the steward was\ngone. \u201cThe question put to the people on the road, and to the guard at\nthe gate, has given us quick notoriety. I am impatient; let us up\nquickly.\u201d\n\nThey arose, put on their sandals, girt their mantles about them, and\nwent out.\n\n\u201cI salute you, and give you peace, and pray your pardon; but my master,\nthe king, has sent me to invite you to the palace, where he would have\nspeech with you privately.\u201d\n\nThus the messenger discharged his duty.\n\nA lamp hung in the entrance, and by its light they looked at each\nother, and knew the Spirit was upon them. Then the Egyptian stepped to\nthe steward, and said, so as not to be heard by the others, \u201cYou know\nwhere our goods are stored in the court, and where our camels are\nresting. While we are gone, make all things ready for our departure, if\nit should be needful.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo your way assured; trust me,\u201d the steward replied.\n\n\u201cThe king\u2019s will is our will,\u201d said Balthasar to the messenger. \u201cWe\nwill follow you.\u201d\n\nThe streets of the Holy City were narrow then as now, but not so rough\nand foul; for the great builder, not content with beauty, enforced\ncleanliness and convenience also. Following their guide, the brethren\nproceeded without a word. Through the dim starlight, made dimmer by the\nwalls on both sides, sometimes almost lost under bridges connecting the\nhouse-tops, out of a low ground they ascended a hill. At last they came\nto a portal reared across the way. In the light of fires blazing before\nit in two great braziers, they caught a glimpse of the structure, and\nalso of some guards leaning motionlessly upon their arms. They passed\ninto a building unchallenged. Then by passages and arched halls;\nthrough courts, and under colonnades not always lighted; up long\nflights of stairs, past innumerable cloisters and chambers, they were\nconducted into a tower of great height. Suddenly the guide halted, and,\npointing through an open door, said to them,\n\n\u201cEnter. The king is there.\u201d\n\nThe air of the chamber was heavy with the perfume of sandal-wood, and\nall the appointments within were effeminately rich. Upon the floor,\ncovering the central space, a tufted rug was spread, and upon that a\nthrone was set. The visitors had but time, however, to catch a confused\nidea of the place\u2014of carved and gilt ottomans and couches; of fans and\njars and musical instruments; of golden candlesticks glittering in\ntheir own lights; of walls painted in the style of the voluptuous\nGrecian school, one look at which had made a Pharisee hide his head\nwith holy horror. Herod, sitting upon the throne to receive them, clad\nas when at the conference with the doctors and lawyers, claimed all\ntheir minds.\n\nAt the edge of the rug, to which they advanced uninvited, they\nprostrated themselves. The king touched a bell. An attendant came in,\nand placed three stools before the throne.\n\n\u201cSeat yourselves,\u201d said the monarch, graciously.\n\n\u201cFrom the North Gate,\u201d he continued, when they were at rest, \u201cI had\nthis afternoon report of the arrival of three strangers, curiously\nmounted, and appearing as if from far countries. Are you the men?\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian took the sign from the Greek and the Hindoo, and answered,\nwith the profoundest salaam, \u201cWere we other than we are, the mighty\nHerod, whose fame is as incense to the whole world, would not have sent\nfor us. We may not doubt that we are the strangers.\u201d\n\nHerod acknowledged the speech with a wave of the hand.\n\n\u201cWho are you? Whence do you come?\u201d he asked, adding significantly, \u201cLet\neach speak for himself.\u201d\n\nIn turn they gave him account, referring simply to the cities and lands\nof their birth, and the routes by which they came to Jerusalem.\nSomewhat disappointed, Herod plied them more directly.\n\n\u201cWhat was the question you put to the officer at the gate?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe asked him, Where is he that is born King of the Jews.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see now why the people were so curious. You excite me no less. Is\nthere another King of the Jews?\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian did not blanch.\n\n\u201cThere is one newly born.\u201d\n\nAn expression of pain knit the dark face of the monarch, as if his mind\nwere swept by a harrowing recollection.\n\n\u201cNot to me, not to me!\u201d he exclaimed.\n\nPossibly the accusing images of his murdered children flitted before\nhim; recovering from the emotion, whatever it was, he asked, steadily,\n\u201cWhere is the new king?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat, O king, is what we would ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou bring me a wonder\u2014a riddle surpassing any of Solomon\u2019s,\u201d the\ninquisitor said next. \u201cAs you see, I am in the time of life when\ncuriosity is as ungovernable as it was in childhood, when to trifle\nwith it is cruelty. Tell me further, and I will honor you as kings\nhonor each other. Give me all you know about the newly born, and I will\njoin you in the search for him; and when we have found him, I will do\nwhat you wish; I will bring him to Jerusalem, and train him in\nkingcraft; I will use my grace with C\u00e6sar for his promotion and glory.\nJealousy shall not come between us, so I swear. But tell me first how,\nso widely separated by seas and deserts, you all came to hear of him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you truly, O king.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak on,\u201d said Herod.\n\nBalthasar raised himself erect, and said, solemnly,\n\n\u201cThere is an Almighty God.\u201d\n\nHerod was visibly startled.\n\n\u201cHe bade us come hither, promising that we should find the Redeemer of\nthe World; that we should see and worship him, and bear witness that he\nwas come; and, as a sign, we were each given to see a star. His Spirit\nstayed with us. O king, his Spirit is with us now!\u201d\n\nAn overpowering feeling seized the three. The Greek with difficulty\nrestrained an outcry. Herod\u2019s gaze darted quickly from one to the\nother; he was more suspicious and dissatisfied than before.\n\n\u201cYou are mocking me,\u201d he said. \u201cIf not, tell me more. What is to follow\nthe coming of the new king?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe salvation of men.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom what?\u201d\n\n\u201cTheir wickedness.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the divine agencies\u2014Faith, Love, and Good Works.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen\u201d\u2014Herod paused, and from his look no man could have said with what\nfeeling he continued\u2014\u201cyou are the heralds of the Christ. Is that all?\u201d\n\nBalthasar bowed low.\n\n\u201cWe are your servants, O king.\u201d\n\nThe monarch touched a bell, and the attendant appeared.\n\n\u201cBring the gifts,\u201d the master said.\n\nThe attendant went out, but in a little while returned, and, kneeling\nbefore the guests, gave to each one an outer robe or mantle of scarlet\nand blue, and a girdle of gold. They acknowledged the honors with\nEastern prostrations.\n\n\u201cA word further,\u201d said Herod, when the ceremony was ended. \u201cTo the\nofficer of the gate, and but now to me, you spoke of seeing a star in\nthe east.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Balthasar, \u201chis star, the star of the newly born.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat time did it appear?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen we were bidden come hither.\u201d\n\nHerod arose, signifying the audience was over. Stepping from the throne\ntowards them, he said, with all graciousness,\n\n\u201cIf, as I believe, O illustrious men, you are indeed the heralds of the\nChrist just born, know that I have this night consulted those wisest in\nthings Jewish, and they say with one voice he should be born in\nBethlehem of Judea. I say to you, go thither; go and search diligently\nfor the young child; and when you have found him bring me word again,\nthat I may come and worship him. To your going there shall be no let or\nhindrance. Peace be with you!\u201d\n\nAnd, folding his robe about him, he left the chamber.\n\nDirectly the guide came, and led them back to the street, and thence to\nthe khan, at the portal of which the Greek said, impulsively, \u201cLet us\nto Bethlehem, O brethren, as the king has advised.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d cried the Hindoo. \u201cThe Spirit burns within me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so,\u201d said Balthasar, with equal warmth. \u201cThe camels are ready.\u201d\n\nThey gave gifts to the steward, mounted into their saddles, received\ndirections to the Joppa Gate, and departed. At their approach the great\nvalves were unbarred, and they passed out into the open country, taking\nthe road so lately travelled by Joseph and Mary. As they came up out of\nHinnom, on the plain of Rephaim, a light appeared, at first wide-spread\nand faint. Their pulses fluttered fast. The light intensified rapidly;\nthey closed their eyes against its burning brilliance: when they dared\nlook again, lo! the star, perfect as any in the heavens, but low down\nand moving slowly before them. And they folded their hands, and\nshouted, and rejoiced with exceeding great joy.\n\n\u201cGod is with us! God is with us!\u201d they repeated, in frequent cheer, all\nthe way, until the star, rising out of the valley beyond Mar Elias,\nstood still over a house up on the slope of the hill near the town.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\nIt was now the beginning of the third watch, and at Bethlehem the\nmorning was breaking over the mountains in the east, but so feebly that\nit was yet night in the valley. The watchman on the roof of the old\nkhan, shivering in the chilly air, was listening for the first\ndistinguishable sounds with which life, awakening, greets the dawn,\nwhen a light came moving up the hill towards the house. He thought it a\ntorch in some one\u2019s hand; next moment he thought it a meteor; the\nbrilliance grew, however, until it became a star. Sore afraid, he cried\nout, and brought everybody within the walls to the roof. The\nphenomenon, in eccentric motion, continued to approach; the rocks,\ntrees, and roadway under it shone as in a glare of lightning; directly\nits brightness became blinding. The more timid of the beholders fell\nupon their knees, and prayed, with their faces hidden; the boldest,\ncovering their eyes, crouched, and now and then snatched glances\nfearfully. Afterwhile the khan and everything thereabout lay under the\nintolerable radiance. Such as dared look beheld the star standing still\ndirectly over the house in front of the cave where the Child had been\nborn.\n\nIn the height of this scene, the wise men came up, and at the gate\ndismounted from their camels, and shouted for admission. When the\nsteward so far mastered his terror as to give them heed, he drew the\nbars and opened to them. The camels looked spectral in the unnatural\nlight, and, besides their outlandishness, there were in the faces and\nmanner of the three visitors an eagerness and exaltation which still\nfurther excited the keeper\u2019s fears and fancy; he fell back, and for a\ntime could not answer the question they put to him.\n\n\u201cIs not this Bethlehem of Judea?\u201d\n\nBut others came, and by their presence gave him assurance.\n\n\u201cNo, this is but the khan; the town lies farther on.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there not here a child newly born?\u201d\n\nThe bystanders turned to each other marvelling, though some of them\nanswered, \u201cYes, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cShow us to him!\u201d said the Greek, impatiently.\n\n\u201cShow us to him!\u201d cried Balthasar, breaking through his gravity; \u201cfor\nwe have seen his star, even that which ye behold over the house, and\nare come to worship him.\u201d\n\nThe Hindoo clasped his hands, exclaiming, \u201cGod indeed lives! Make\nhaste, make haste! The Savior is found. Blessed, blessed are we above\nmen!\u201d\n\nThe people from the roof came down and followed the strangers as they\nwere taken through the court and out into the enclosure; at sight of\nthe star yet above the cave, though less candescent than before, some\nturned back afraid; the greater part went on. As the strangers neared\nthe house, the orb arose; when they were at the door, it was high up\noverhead vanishing; when they entered, it went out lost to sight. And\nto the witnesses of what then took place came a conviction that there\nwas a divine relation between the star and the strangers, which\nextended also to at least some of the occupants of the cave. When the\ndoor was opened, they crowded in.\n\nThe apartment was lighted by a lantern enough to enable the strangers\nto find the mother, and the child awake in her lap.\n\n\u201cIs the child thine?\u201d asked Balthasar of Mary.\n\nAnd she who had kept all the things in the least affecting the little\none, and pondered them in her heart, held it up in the light, saying,\n\n\u201cHe is my son!\u201d\n\nAnd they fell down and worshipped him.\n\nThey saw the child was as other children: about its head was neither\nnimbus nor material crown; its lips opened not in speech; if it heard\ntheir expressions of joy, their invocations, their prayers, it made no\nsign whatever, but, baby-like, looked longer at the flame in the\nlantern than at them.\n\nIn a little while they arose, and, returning to the camels, brought\ngifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and laid them before the child,\nabating nothing of their worshipful speeches; of which no part is\ngiven, for the thoughtful know that the pure worship of the pure heart\nwas then what it is now, and has always been, an inspired song.\n\nAnd this was the Savior they had come so far to find!\n\nYet they worshipped without a doubt.\n\nWhy?\n\nTheir faith rested upon the signs sent them by him whom we have since\ncome to know as the Father; and they were of the kind to whom his\npromises were so all-sufficient that they asked nothing about his ways.\nFew there were who had seen the signs and heard the promises\u2014the Mother\nand Joseph, the shepherds, and the Three\u2014yet they all believed alike;\nthat is to say, in this period of the plan of salvation, God was all\nand the Child nothing. But look forward, O reader! A time will come\nwhen the signs will all proceed from the Son. Happy they who then\nbelieve in him!\n\nLet us wait that period.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK SECOND\n\n\n\u201cThere is a fire\nAnd motion of the soul which will not dwell\nIn its own narrow being, but aspire\nBeyond the fitting medium of desire;\nAnd, but once kindled, quenchless evermore,\nPreys upon high adventure, nor can tire\nOf aught but rest.\u201d\n\nChilde Harold.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nIt is necessary now to carry the reader forward twenty-one years, to\nthe beginning of the administration of Valerius Gratus, the fourth\nimperial governor of Judea\u2014a period which will be remembered as rent by\npolitical agitations in Jerusalem, if, indeed, it be not the precise\ntime of the opening of the final quarrel between the Jew and the Roman.\n\nIn the interval Judea had been subjected to changes affecting her in\nmany ways, but in nothing so much as her political status. Herod the\nGreat died within one year after the birth of the Child\u2014died so\nmiserably that the Christian world had reason to believe him overtaken\nby the Divine wrath. Like all great rulers who spend their lives in\nperfecting the power they create, he dreamed of transmitting his throne\nand crown\u2014of being the founder of a dynasty. With that intent, he left\na will dividing his territories between his three sons, Antipas,\nPhilip, and Archelaus, of whom the last was appointed to succeed to the\ntitle. The testament was necessarily referred to Augustus, the emperor,\nwho ratified all its provisions with one exception: he withheld from\nArchelaus the title of king until he proved his capacity and loyalty;\nin lieu thereof, he created him ethnarch, and as such permitted him to\ngovern nine years, when, for misconduct and inability to stay the\nturbulent elements that grew and strengthened around him, he was sent\ninto Gaul as an exile.\n\nC\u00e6sar was not content with deposing Archelaus; he struck the people of\nJerusalem in a manner that touched their pride, and keenly wounded the\nsensibilities of the haughty habitues of the Temple. He reduced Judea\nto a Roman province, and annexed it to the prefecture of Syria. So,\ninstead of a king ruling royally from the palace left by Herod on Mount\nZion, the city fell into the hands of an officer of the second grade,\nan appointee called procurator, who communicated with the court in Rome\nthrough the Legate of Syria, residing in Antioch. To make the hurt more\npainful, the procurator was not permitted to establish himself in\nJerusalem; C\u00e6sarea was his seat of government. Most humiliating,\nhowever, most exasperating, most studied, Samaria, of all the world the\nmost despised\u2014Samaria was joined to Judea as a part of the same\nprovince! What ineffable misery the bigoted Separatists or Pharisees\nendured at finding themselves elbowed and laughed at in the\nprocurator\u2019s presence in C\u00e6sarea by the devotees of Gerizim!\n\nIn this rain of sorrows, one consolation, and one only, remained to the\nfallen people: the high-priest occupied the Herodian palace in the\nmarket-place, and kept the semblance of a court there. What his\nauthority really was is a matter of easy estimate. Judgment of life and\ndeath was retained by the procurator. Justice was administered in the\nname and according to the decretals of Rome. Yet more significant, the\nroyal house was jointly occupied by the imperial exciseman, and all his\ncorps of assistants, registrars, collectors, publicans, informers, and\nspies. Still, to the dreamers of liberty to come, there was a certain\nsatisfaction in the fact that the chief ruler in the palace was a Jew.\nHis mere presence there day after day kept them reminded of the\ncovenants and promises of the prophets, and the ages when Jehovah\ngoverned the tribes through the sons of Aaron; it was to them a certain\nsign that he had not abandoned them: so their hopes lived, and served\ntheir patience, and helped them wait grimly the son of Judah who was to\nrule Israel.\n\nJudea had been a Roman province eighty years and more\u2014ample time for\nthe C\u00e6sars to study the idiosyncrasies of the people\u2014time enough, at\nleast, to learn that the Jew, with all his pride, could be quietly\ngoverned if his religion were respected. Proceeding upon that policy,\nthe predecessors of Gratus had carefully abstained from interfering\nwith any of the sacred observances of their subjects. But he chose a\ndifferent course: almost his first official act was to expel Hannas\nfrom the high-priesthood, and give the place to Ishmael, son of Fabus.\n\nWhether the act was directed by Augustus, or proceeded from Gratus\nhimself, its impolicy became speedily apparent. The reader shall be\nspared a chapter on Jewish politics; a few words upon the subject,\nhowever, are essential to such as may follow the succeeding narration\ncritically. At this time, leaving origin out of view, there were in\nJudea the party of the nobles and the Separatist or popular party. Upon\nHerod\u2019s death, the two united against Archelaus; from temple to palace,\nfrom Jerusalem to Rome, they fought him; sometimes with intrigue,\nsometimes with the actual weapons of war. More than once the holy\ncloisters on Moriah resounded with the cries of fighting-men. Finally,\nthey drove him into exile. Meantime throughout this struggle the allies\nhad their diverse objects in view. The nobles hated Joazar, the\nhigh-priest; the Separatists, on the other hand, were his zealous\nadherents. When Herod\u2019s settlement went down with Archelaus, Joazar\nshared the fall. Hannas, the son of Seth, was selected by the nobles to\nfill the great office; thereupon the allies divided. The induction of\nthe Sethian brought them face to face in fierce hostility.\n\nIn the course of the struggle with the unfortunate ethnarch, the nobles\nhad found it expedient to attach themselves to Rome. Discerning that\nwhen the existing settlement was broken up some form of government must\nneeds follow, they suggested the conversion of Judea into a province.\nThe fact furnished the Separatists an additional cause for attack; and,\nwhen Samaria was made part of the province, the nobles sank into a\nminority, with nothing to support them but the imperial court and the\nprestige of their rank and wealth; yet for fifteen years\u2014down, indeed,\nto the coming of Valerius Gratus\u2014they managed to maintain themselves in\nboth palace and Temple.\n\nHannas, the idol of his party, had used his power faithfully in the\ninterest of his imperial patron. A Roman garrison held the Tower of\nAntonia; a Roman guard kept the gates of the palace; a Roman judge\ndispensed justice civil and criminal; a Roman system of taxation,\nmercilessly executed, crushed both city and country; daily, hourly, and\nin a thousand ways, the people were bruised and galled, and taught the\ndifference between a life of independence and a life of subjection; yet\nHannas kept them in comparative quiet. Rome had no truer friend; and he\nmade his loss instantly felt. Delivering his vestments to Ishmael, the\nnew appointee, he walked from the courts of the Temple into the\ncouncils of the Separatists, and became the head of a new combination,\nBethusian and Sethian.\n\nGratus, the procurator, left thus without a party, saw the fires which,\nin the fifteen years, had sunk into sodden smoke begin to glow with\nreturning life. A month after Ishmael took the office, the Roman found\nit necessary to visit him in Jerusalem. When from the walls, hooting\nand hissing him, the Jews beheld his guard enter the north gate of the\ncity and march to the Tower of Antonia, they understood the real\npurpose of the visit\u2014a full cohort of legionaries was added to the\nformer garrison, and the keys of their yoke could now be tightened with\nimpunity. If the procurator deemed it important to make an example,\nalas for the first offender!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nWith the foregoing explanation in mind, the reader is invited to look\ninto one of the gardens of the palace on Mount Zion. The time was\nnoonday in the middle of July, when the heat of summer was at its\nhighest.\n\nThe garden was bounded on every side by buildings, which in places\narose two stories, with verandas shading the doors and windows of the\nlower story, while retreating galleries, guarded by strong balustrades,\nadorned and protected the upper. Here and there, moreover, the\nstructures fell into what appeared low colonnades, permitting the\npassage of such winds as chanced to blow, and allowing other parts of\nthe house to be seen, the better to realize its magnitude and beauty.\nThe arrangement of the ground was equally pleasant to the eye. There\nwere walks, and patches of grass and shrubbery, and a few large trees,\nrare specimens of the palm, grouped with the carob, apricot, and\nwalnut. In all directions the grade sloped gently from the centre,\nwhere there was a reservoir, or deep marble basin, broken at intervals\nby little gates which, when raised, emptied the water into sluices\nbordering the walks\u2014a cunning device for the rescue of the place from\nthe aridity too prevalent elsewhere in the region.\n\nNot far from the fountain, there was a small pool of clear water\nnourishing a clump of cane and oleander, such as grow on the Jordan and\ndown by the Dead Sea. Between the clump and the pool, unmindful of the\nsun shining full upon them in the breathless air, two boys, one about\nnineteen, the other seventeen, sat engaged in earnest conversation.\n\nThey were both handsome, and, at first glance, would have been\npronounced brothers. Both had hair and eyes black; their faces were\ndeeply browned; and, sitting, they seemed of a size proper for the\ndifference in their ages.\n\nThe elder was bareheaded. A loose tunic, dropping to the knees, was his\nattire complete, except sandals and a light-blue mantle spread under\nhim on the seat. The costume left his arms and legs exposed, and they\nwere brown as the face; nevertheless, a certain grace of manner,\nrefinement of features, and culture of voice decided his rank. The\ntunic, of softest woollen, gray-tinted, at the neck, sleeves, and edge\nof the skirt bordered with red, and bound to the waist by a tasselled\nsilken cord, certified him the Roman he was. And if in speech he now\nand then gazed haughtily at his companion and addressed him as an\ninferior, he might almost be excused, for he was of a family noble even\nin Rome\u2014a circumstance which in that age justified any assumption. In\nthe terrible wars between the first C\u00e6sar and his great enemies, a\nMessala had been the friend of Brutus. After Philippi, without\nsacrifice of his honor, he and the conqueror became reconciled. Yet\nlater, when Octavius disputed for the empire, Messala supported him.\nOctavius, as the Emperor Augustus, remembered the service, and showered\nthe family with honors. Among other things, Judea being reduced to a\nprovince, he sent the son of his old client or retainer to Jerusalem,\ncharged with the receipt and management of the taxes levied in that\nregion; and in that service the son had since remained, sharing the\npalace with the high-priest. The youth just described was his son,\nwhose habit it was to carry about with him all too faithfully a\nremembrance of the relation between his grandfather and the great\nRomans of his day.\n\nThe associate of the Messala was slighter in form, and his garments\nwere of fine white linen and of the prevalent style in Jerusalem; a\ncloth covered his head, held by a yellow cord, and arranged so as to\nfall away from the forehead down low over the back of the neck. An\nobserver skilled in the distinctions of race, and studying his features\nmore than his costume, would have soon discovered him to be of Jewish\ndescent. The forehead of the Roman was high and narrow, his nose sharp\nand aquiline, while his lips were thin and straight, and his eyes cold\nand close under the brows. The front of the Israelite, on the other\nhand, was low and broad; his nose long, with expanded nostrils; his\nupper lip, slightly shading the lower one, short and curving to the\ndimpled corners, like a Cupid\u2019s bow; points which, in connection with\nthe round chin, full eyes, and oval cheeks reddened with a wine-like\nglow, gave his face the softness, strength, and beauty peculiar to his\nrace. The comeliness of the Roman was severe and chaste, that of the\nJew rich and voluptuous.\n\n\u201cDid you not say the new procurator is to arrive to-morrow?\u201d\n\nThe question proceeded from the younger of the friends, and was couched\nin Greek, at the time, singularly enough, the language everywhere\nprevalent in the politer circles of Judea; having passed from the\npalace into the camp and college; thence, nobody knew exactly when or\nhow, into the Temple itself, and, for that matter, into precincts of\nthe Temple far beyond the gates and cloisters\u2014precincts of a sanctity\nintolerable for a Gentile.\n\n\u201cYes, to-morrow,\u201d Messala answered.\n\n\u201cWho told you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI heard Ishmael, the new governor in the palace\u2014you call him high\npriest\u2014tell my father so last night. The news had been more credible, I\ngrant you, coming from an Egyptian, who is of a race that has forgotten\nwhat truth is, or even from an Idumaean, whose people never knew what\ntruth was; but, to make quite certain, I saw a centurion from the Tower\nthis morning, and he told me preparations were going on for the\nreception; that the armorers were furbishing the helmets and shields,\nand regilding the eagles and globes; and that apartments long unused\nwere being cleansed and aired as if for an addition to the garrison\u2014the\nbody-guard, probably, of the great man.\u201d\n\nA perfect idea of the manner in which the answer was given cannot be\nconveyed, as its fine points continually escape the power behind the\npen. The reader\u2019s fancy must come to his aid; and for that he must be\nreminded that reverence as a quality of the Roman mind was fast\nbreaking down, or, rather, it was becoming unfashionable. The old\nreligion had nearly ceased to be a faith; at most it was a mere habit\nof thought and expression, cherished principally by the priests who\nfound service in the Temple profitable, and the poets who, in the turn\nof their verses, could not dispense with the familiar deities: there\nare singers of this age who are similarly given. As philosophy was\ntaking the place of religion, satire was fast substituting reverence;\ninsomuch that in Latin opinion it was to every speech, even to the\nlittle diatribes of conversation, as salt to viands, and aroma to wine.\nThe young Messala, educated in Rome, but lately returned, had caught\nthe habit and manner; the scarce perceptible movement of the outer\ncorner of the lower eyelid, the decided curl of the corresponding\nnostril, and a languid utterance affected as the best vehicle to convey\nthe idea of general indifference, but more particularly because of the\nopportunities it afforded for certain rhetorical pauses thought to be\nof prime importance to enable the listener to take the happy conceit or\nreceive the virus of the stinging epigram. Such a stop occurred in the\nanswer just given, at the end of the allusion to the Egyptian and\nIdumaean. The color in the Jewish lad\u2019s cheeks deepened, and he may not\nhave heard the rest of the speech, for he remained silent, looking\nabsently into the depths of the pool.\n\n\u201cOur farewell took place in this garden. \u2018The peace of the Lord go with\nyou!\u2019\u2014your last words. \u2018The gods keep you!\u2019 I said. Do you remember?\nHow many years have passed since then?\u201d\n\n\u201cFive,\u201d answered the Jew, gazing into the water.\n\n\u201cWell, you have reason to be thankful to\u2014whom shall I say? The gods? No\nmatter. You have grown handsome; the Greeks would call you\nbeautiful\u2014happy achievement of the years! If Jupiter would stay content\nwith one Ganymede, what a cup-bearer you would make for the emperor!\nTell me, my Judah, how the coming of the procurator is of such interest\nto you.\u201d\n\nJudah bent his large eyes upon the questioner; the gaze was grave and\nthoughtful, and caught the Roman\u2019s, and held it while he replied, \u201cYes,\nfive years. I remember the parting; you went to Rome; I saw you start,\nand cried, for I love you. The years are gone, and you have come back\nto me accomplished and princely\u2014I do not jest; and yet\u2014yet\u2014I do wish\nyou were the Messala you went away.\u201d\n\nThe fine nostril of the satirist stirred, and he put on a longer drawl\nas he said, \u201cNo, no; not a Ganymede\u2014an oracle, my Judah. A few lessons\nfrom my teacher of rhetoric hard by the Forum\u2014I will give you a letter\nto him when you become wise enough to accept a suggestion which I am\nreminded to make you\u2014a little practise of the art of mystery, and\nDelphi will receive you as Apollo himself. At the sound of your solemn\nvoice, the Pythia will come down to you with her crown. Seriously, O my\nfriend, in what am I not the Messala I went away? I once heard the\ngreatest logician in the world. His subject was Disputation. One saying\nI remember\u2014\u2018Understand your antagonist before you answer him.\u2019 Let me\nunderstand you.\u201d\n\nThe lad reddened under the cynical look to which he was subjected; yet\nhe replied, firmly, \u201cYou have availed yourself, I see, of your\nopportunities; from your teachers you have brought away much knowledge\nand many graces. You talk with the ease of a master, yet your speech\ncarries a sting. My Messala, when he went away, had no poison in his\nnature; not for the world would he have hurt the feelings of a friend.\u201d\n\nThe Roman smiled as if complimented, and raised his patrician head a\ntoss higher.\n\n\u201cO my solemn Judah, we are not at Dodona or Pytho. Drop the oracular,\nand be plain. Wherein have I hurt you?\u201d\n\nThe other drew a long breath, and said, pulling at the cord about his\nwaist, \u201cIn the five years, I, too, have learned somewhat. Hillel may\nnot be the equal of the logician you heard, and Simeon and Shammai are,\nno doubt, inferior to your master hard by the Forum. Their learning\ngoes not out into forbidden paths; those who sit at their feet arise\nenriched simply with knowledge of God, the law, and Israel; and the\neffect is love and reverence for everything that pertains to them.\nAttendance at the Great College, and study of what I heard there, have\ntaught me that Judea is not as she used to be. I know the space that\nlies between an independent kingdom and the petty province Judea is. I\nwere meaner, viler, than a Samaritan not to resent the degradation of\nmy country. Ishmael is not lawfully high-priest, and he cannot be while\nthe noble Hannas lives; yet he is a Levite; one of the devoted who for\nthousands of years have acceptably served the Lord God of our faith and\nworship. His\u2014\u201d\n\nMessala broke in upon him with a biting laugh.\n\n\u201cOh, I understand you now. Ishmael, you say, is a usurper, yet to\nbelieve an Idumaean sooner than Ishmael is to sting like an adder. By\nthe drunken son of Semele, what it is to be a Jew! All men and things,\neven heaven and earth, change; but a Jew never. To him there is no\nbackward, no forward; he is what his ancestor was in the beginning. In\nthis sand I draw you a circle\u2014there! Now tell me what more a Jew\u2019s life\nis? Round and round, Abraham here, Isaac and Jacob yonder, God in the\nmiddle. And the circle\u2014by the master of all thunders! the circle is too\nlarge. I draw it again\u2014\u201d He stopped, put his thumb upon the ground, and\nswept the fingers about it. \u201cSee, the thumb spot is the Temple, the\nfinger-lines Judea. Outside the little space is there nothing of value?\nThe arts! Herod was a builder; therefore he is accursed. Painting,\nsculpture! to look upon them is sin. Poetry you make fast to your\naltars. Except in the synagogue, who of you attempts eloquence? In war\nall you conquer in the six days you lose on the seventh. Such your life\nand limit; who shall say no if I laugh at you? Satisfied with the\nworship of such a people, what is your God to our Roman Jove, who lends\nus his eagles that we may compass the universe with our arms? Hillel,\nSimeon, Shammai, Abtalion\u2014what are they to the masters who teach that\neverything is worth knowing that can be known?\u201d\n\nThe Jew arose, his face much flushed.\n\n\u201cNo, no; keep your place, my Judah, keep your place,\u201d Messala cried,\nextending his hand.\n\n\u201cYou mock me.\u201d\n\n\u201cListen a little further. Directly\u201d\u2014the Roman smiled\nderisively\u2014\u201cdirectly Jupiter and his whole family, Greek and Latin,\nwill come to me, as is their habit, and make an end of serious speech.\nI am mindful of your goodness in walking from the old house of your\nfathers to welcome me back and renew the love of our childhood\u2014if we\ncan. \u2018Go,\u2019 said my teacher, in his last lecture\u2014\u2018Go, and, to make your\nlives great, remember Mars reigns and Eros has found his eyes.\u2019 He\nmeant love is nothing, war everything. It is so in Rome. Marriage is\nthe first step to divorce. Virtue is a tradesman\u2019s jewel. Cleopatra,\ndying, bequeathed her arts, and is avenged; she has a successor in\nevery Roman\u2019s house. The world is going the same way; so, as to our\nfuture, down Eros, up Mars! I am to be a soldier; and you, O my Judah,\nI pity you; what can you be?\u201d\n\nThe Jew moved nearer the pool; Messala\u2019s drawl deepened.\n\n\u201cYes, I pity you, my fine Judah. From the college to the synagogue;\nthen to the Temple; then\u2014oh, a crowning glory!\u2014the seat in the\nSanhedrim. A life without opportunities; the gods help you! But I\u2014\u201d\n\nJudah looked at him in time to see the flush of pride that kindled in\nhis haughty face as he went on.\n\n\u201cBut I\u2014ah, the world is not all conquered. The sea has islands unseen.\nIn the north there are nations yet unvisited. The glory of completing\nAlexander\u2019s march to the Far East remains to some one. See what\npossibilities lie before a Roman.\u201d\n\nNext instant he resumed his drawl.\n\n\u201cA campaign into Africa; another after the Scythian; then\u2014a legion!\nMost careers end there; but not mine. I\u2014by Jupiter! what a\nconception!\u2014I will give up my legion for a prefecture. Think of life in\nRome with money\u2014money, wine, women, games\u2014poets at the banquet,\nintrigues in the court, dice all the year round. Such a rounding of\nlife may be\u2014a fat prefecture, and it is mine. O my Judah, here is\nSyria! Judea is rich; Antioch a capital for the gods. I will succeed\nCyrenius, and you\u2014shall share my fortune.\u201d\n\nThe sophists and rhetoricians who thronged the public resorts of Rome,\nalmost monopolizing the business of teaching her patrician youth, might\nhave approved these sayings of Messala, for they were all in the\npopular vein; to the young Jew, however, they were new, and unlike the\nsolemn style of discourse and conversation to which he was accustomed.\nHe belonged, moreover, to a race whose laws, modes, and habits of\nthought forbade satire and humor; very naturally, therefore, he\nlistened to his friend with varying feelings; one moment indignant,\nthen uncertain how to take him. The superior airs assumed had been\noffensive to him in the beginning; soon they became irritating, and at\nlast an acute smart. Anger lies close by this point in all of us; and\nthat the satirist evoked in another way. To the Jew of the Herodian\nperiod patriotism was a savage passion scarcely hidden under his common\nhumor, and so related to his history, religion, and God that it\nresponded instantly to derision of them. Wherefore it is not speaking\ntoo strongly to say that Messala\u2019s progress down to the last pause was\nexquisite torture to his hearer; at that point the latter said, with a\nforced smile,\n\n\u201cThere are a few, I have heard, who can afford to make a jest of their\nfuture; you convince me, O my Messala, that I am not one of them.\u201d\n\nThe Roman studied him; then replied, \u201cWhy not the truth in a jest as\nwell as a parable? The great Fulvia went fishing the other day; she\ncaught more than all the company besides. They said it was because the\nbarb of her hook was covered with gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you were not merely jesting?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy Judah, I see I did not offer you enough,\u201d the Roman answered,\nquickly, his eyes sparkling. \u201cWhen I am prefect, with Judea to enrich\nme, I\u2014will make you high-priest.\u201d\n\nThe Jew turned off angrily.\n\n\u201cDo not leave me,\u201d said Messala.\n\nThe other stopped irresolute.\n\n\u201cGods, Judah, how hot the sun shines!\u201d cried the patrician, observing\nhis perplexity. \u201cLet us seek a shade.\u201d\n\nJudah answered, coldly,\n\n\u201cWe had better part. I wish I had not come. I sought a friend and find\na\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cRoman,\u201d said Messala, quickly.\n\nThe hands of the Jew clenched, but controlling himself again, he\nstarted off. Messala arose, and, taking the mantle from the bench,\nflung it over his shoulder, and followed after; when he gained his\nside, he put his hand upon his shoulder and walked with him.\n\n\u201cThis is the way\u2014my hand thus\u2014we used to walk when we were children.\nLet us keep it as far as the gate.\u201d\n\nApparently Messala was trying to be serious and kind, though he could\nnot rid his countenance of the habitual satirical expression. Judah\npermitted the familiarity.\n\n\u201cYou are a boy; I am a man; let me talk like one.\u201d\n\nThe complacency of the Roman was superb. Mentor lecturing the young\nTelemachus could not have been more at ease.\n\n\u201cDo you believe in the Parcae? Ah, I forgot, you are a Sadducee: the\nEssenes are your sensible people; they believe in the sisters. So do I.\nHow everlastingly the three are in the way of our doing what we please!\nI sit down scheming. I run paths here and there. Perpol! Just when I am\nreaching to take the world in hand, I hear behind me the grinding of\nscissors. I look, and there she is, the accursed Atropos! But, my\nJudah, why did you get mad when I spoke of succeeding old Cyrenius? You\nthought I meant to enrich myself plundering your Judea. Suppose so; it\nis what some Roman will do. Why not I?\u201d\n\nJudah shortened his step.\n\n\u201cThere have been strangers in mastery of Judea before the Roman,\u201d he\nsaid, with lifted hand. \u201cWhere are they, Messala? She has outlived them\nall. What has been will be again.\u201d\n\nMessala put on his drawl.\n\n\u201cThe Parcae have believers outside the Essenes. Welcome, Judah, welcome\nto the faith!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Messala, count me not with them. My faith rests on the rock which\nwas the foundation of the faith of my fathers back further than\nAbraham; on the covenants of the Lord God of Israel.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo much passion, my Judah. How my master would have been shocked had\nI been guilty of so much heat in his presence! There were other things\nI had to tell you, but I fear to now.\u201d\n\nWhen they had gone a few yards, the Roman spoke again.\n\n\u201cI think you can hear me now, especially as what I have to say concerns\nyourself. I would serve you, O handsome as Ganymede; I would serve you\nwith real good-will. I love you\u2014all I can. I told you I meant to be a\nsoldier. Why not you also? Why not you step out of the narrow circle\nwhich, as I have shown, is all of noble life your laws and customs\nallow?\u201d\n\nJudah made no reply.\n\n\u201cWho are the wise men of our day?\u201d Messala continued. \u201cNot they who\nexhaust their years quarrelling about dead things; about Baals, Joves,\nand Jehovahs; about philosophies and religions. Give me one great name,\nO Judah; I care not where you go to find it\u2014to Rome, Egypt, the East,\nor here in Jerusalem\u2014Pluto take me if it belong not to a man who\nwrought his fame out of the material furnished him by the present;\nholding nothing sacred that did not contribute to the end, scorning\nnothing that did! How was it with Herod? How with the Maccabees? How\nwith the first and second C\u00e6sars? Imitate them. Begin now. At hand\nsee\u2014Rome, as ready to help you as she was the Idumaean Antipater.\u201d\n\nThe Jewish lad trembled with rage; and, as the garden gate was close\nby, he quickened his steps, eager to escape.\n\n\u201cO Rome, Rome!\u201d he muttered.\n\n\u201cBe wise,\u201d continued Messala. \u201cGive up the follies of Moses and the\ntraditions; see the situation as it is. Dare look the Parcae in the\nface, and they will tell you, Rome is the world. Ask them of Judea, and\nthey will answer, She is what Rome wills.\u201d\n\nThey were now at the gate. Judah stopped, and took the hand gently from\nhis shoulder, and confronted Messala, tears trembling in his eyes.\n\n\u201cI understand you, because you are a Roman; you cannot understand me\u2014I\nam an Israelite. You have given me suffering to-day by convincing me\nthat we can never be the friends we have been\u2014never! Here we part. The\npeace of the God of my fathers abide with you!\u201d\n\nMessala offered him his hand; the Jew walked on through the gateway.\nWhen he was gone, the Roman was silent awhile; then he, too, passed\nthrough, saying to himself, with a toss of the head,\n\n\u201cBe it so. Eros is dead, Mars reigns!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nFrom the entrance to the Holy City, equivalent to what is now called\nSt. Stephen\u2019s Gate, a street extended westwardly, on a line parallel\nwith the northern front of the Tower of Antonia, though a square from\nthat famous castle. Keeping the course as far as the Tyropoeon Valley,\nwhich it followed a little way south, it turned and again ran west\nuntil a short distance beyond what tradition tells us was the Judgment\nGate, from whence it broke abruptly south. The traveller or the student\nfamiliar with the sacred locality will recognize the thoroughfare\ndescribed as part of the Via Dolorosa\u2014with Christians of more interest,\nthough of a melancholy kind, than any street in the world. As the\npurpose in view does not at present require dealing with the whole\nstreet, it will be sufficient to point out a house standing in the\nangle last mentioned as marking the change of direction south, and\nwhich, as an important centre of interest, needs somewhat particular\ndescription.\n\nThe building fronted north and west, probably four hundred feet each\nway, and, like most pretentious Eastern structures, was two stories in\nheight, and perfectly quadrangular. The street on the west side was\nabout twelve feet wide, that on the north not more than ten; so that\none walking close to the walls, and looking up at them, would have been\nstruck by the rude, unfinished, uninviting, but strong and imposing,\nappearance they presented; for they were of stone laid in large blocks,\nundressed\u2014on the outer side, in fact, just as they were taken from the\nquarry. A critic of this age would have pronounced the house\nfortelesque in style, except for the windows, with which it was\nunusually garnished, and the ornate finish of the doorways or gates.\nThe western windows were four in number, the northern only two, all set\non the line of the second story in such manner as to overhang the\nthoroughfares below. The gates were the only breaks of wall externally\nvisible in the first story; and, besides being so thickly riven with\niron bolts as to suggest resistance to battering-rams, they were\nprotected by cornices of marble, handsomely executed, and of such bold\nprojection as to assure visitors well informed of the people that the\nrich man who resided there was a Sadducee in politics and creed.\n\nNot long after the young Jew parted from the Roman at the palace up on\nthe Market-place, he stopped before the western gate of the house\ndescribed, and knocked. The wicket (a door hung in one of the valves of\nthe gate) was opened to admit him. He stepped in hastily, and failed to\nacknowledge the low salaam of the porter.\n\nTo get an idea of the interior arrangement of the structure, as well as\nto see what more befell the youth, we will follow him.\n\nThe passage into which he was admitted appeared not unlike a narrow\ntunnel with panelled walls and pitted ceiling. There were benches of\nstone on both sides, stained and polished by long use. Twelve or\nfifteen steps carried him into a court-yard, oblong north and south,\nand in every quarter, except the east, bounded by what seemed the\nfronts of two-story houses; of which the lower floor was divided into\nlewens, while the upper was terraced and defended by strong\nbalustrading. The servants coming and going along the terraces; the\nnoise of millstones grinding; the garments fluttering from ropes\nstretched from point to point; the chickens and pigeons in full\nenjoyment of the place; the goats, cows, donkeys, and horses stabled in\nthe lewens; a massive trough of water, apparently for the common use,\ndeclared this court appurtenant to the domestic management of the\nowner. Eastwardly there was a division wall broken by another\npassage-way in all respects like the first one.\n\nClearing the second passage, the young man entered a second court,\nspacious, square, and set with shrubbery and vines, kept fresh and\nbeautiful by water from a basin erected near a porch on the north side.\nThe lewens here were high, airy, and shaded by curtains striped\nalternate white and red. The arches of the lewens rested on clustered\ncolumns. A flight of steps on the south ascended to the terraces of the\nupper story, over which great awnings were stretched as a defence\nagainst the sun. Another stairway reached from the terraces to the\nroof, the edge of which, all around the square, was defined by a\nsculptured cornice, and a parapet of burned-clay tiling, sexangular and\nbright red. In this quarter, moreover, there was everywhere observable\na scrupulous neatness, which, allowing no dust in the angles, not even\na yellow leaf upon a shrub, contributed quite as much as anything else\nto the delightful general effect; insomuch that a visitor, breathing\nthe sweet air, knew, in advance of introduction, the refinement of the\nfamily he was about calling upon.\n\nA few steps within the second court, the lad turned to the right, and,\nchoosing a walk through the shrubbery, part of which was in flower,\npassed to the stairway, and ascended to the terrace\u2014a broad pavement of\nwhite and brown flags closely laid, and much worn. Making way under the\nawning to a doorway on the north side, he entered an apartment which\nthe dropping of the screen behind him returned to darkness.\nNevertheless, he proceeded, moving over a tiled floor to a divan, upon\nwhich he flung himself, face downwards, and lay at rest, his forehead\nupon his crossed arms.\n\nAbout nightfall a woman came to the door and called; he answered, and\nshe went in.\n\n\u201cSupper is over, and it is night. Is not my son hungry?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cAre you sick?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sleepy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour mother has asked for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is she?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the summer-house on the roof.\u201d\n\nHe stirred himself, and sat up.\n\n\u201cVery well. Bring me something to eat.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat you please, Amrah. I am not sick, but indifferent. Life does not\nseem as pleasant as it did this morning. A new ailment, O my Amrah; and\nyou who know me so well, who never failed me, may think of the things\nnow that answer for food and medicine. Bring me what you choose.\u201d\n\nAmrah\u2019s questions, and the voice in which she put them\u2014low,\nsympathetic, and solicitous\u2014were significant of an endeared relation\nbetween the two. She laid her hand upon his forehead; then, as\nsatisfied, went out, saying, \u201cI will see.\u201d\n\nAfter a while she returned, bearing on a wooden platter a bowl of milk,\nsome thin cakes of white bread broken, a delicate paste of brayed\nwheat, a bird broiled, and honey and salt. On one end of the platter\nthere was a silver goblet full of wine, on the other a brazen hand-lamp\nlighted.\n\nThe room was then revealed: its walls smoothly plastered; the ceiling\nbroken by great oaken rafters, brown with rain stains and time; the\nfloor of small diamond-shaped white and blue tiles, very firm and\nenduring; a few stools with legs carved in imitation of the legs of\nlions; a divan raised a little above the floor, trimmed with blue\ncloth, and partially covered by an immense striped woollen blanket or\nshawl\u2014in brief, a Hebrew bedroom.\n\nThe same light also gave the woman to view. Drawing a stool to the\ndivan, she placed the platter upon it, then knelt close by ready to\nserve him. Her face was that of a woman of fifty, dark-skinned,\ndark-eyed, and at the moment softened by a look of tenderness almost\nmaternal. A white turban covered her head, leaving the lobes of the ear\nexposed, and in them the sign that settled her condition\u2014an orifice\nbored by a thick awl. She was a slave, of Egyptian origin, to whom not\neven the sacred fiftieth year could have brought freedom; nor would she\nhave accepted it, for the boy she was attending was her life. She had\nnursed him through babyhood, tended him as a child, and could not break\nthe service. To her love he could never be a man.\n\nHe spoke but once during the meal.\n\n\u201cYou remember, O my Amrah,\u201d he said, \u201cthe Messala who used to visit me\nhere days at a time.\u201d\n\n\u201cI remember him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe went to Rome some years ago, and is now back. I called upon him\nto-day.\u201d\n\nA shudder of disgust seized the lad.\n\n\u201cI knew something had happened,\u201d she said, deeply interested. \u201cI never\nliked the Messala. Tell me all.\u201d\n\nBut he fell into musing, and to her repeated inquiries only said, \u201cHe\nis much changed, and I shall have nothing more to do with him.\u201d\n\nWhen Amrah took the platter away, he also went out, and up from the\nterrace to the roof.\n\nThe reader is presumed to know somewhat of the uses of the house-top in\nthe East. In the matter of customs, climate is a lawgiver everywhere.\nThe Syrian summer day drives the seeker of comfort into the darkened\nlewen; night, however, calls him forth early, and the shadows deepening\nover the mountain-sides seem veils dimly covering Circean singers; but\nthey are far off, while the roof is close by, and raised above the\nlevel of the shimmering plain enough for the visitation of cool airs,\nand sufficiently above the trees to allure the stars down closer, down\nat least into brighter shining. So the roof became a resort\u2014became\nplayground, sleeping-chamber, boudoir, rendezvous for the family, place\nof music, dance, conversation, reverie, and prayer.\n\nThe motive that prompts the decoration, at whatever cost, of interiors\nin colder climes suggested to the Oriental the embellishment of his\nhouse-top. The parapet ordered by Moses became a potter\u2019s triumph;\nabove that, later, arose towers, plain and fantastic; still later,\nkings and princes crowned their roofs with summer-houses of marble and\ngold. When the Babylonian hung gardens in the air, extravagance could\npush the idea no further.\n\nThe lad whom we are following walked slowly across the house-top to a\ntower built over the northwest corner of the palace. Had he been a\nstranger, he might have bestowed a glance upon the structure as he drew\nnigh it, and seen all the dimness permitted\u2014a darkened mass, low,\nlatticed, pillared, and domed. He entered, passing under a half-raised\ncurtain. The interior was all darkness, except that on four sides there\nwere arched openings like doorways, through which the sky, lighted with\nstars, was visible. In one of the openings, reclining against a cushion\nfrom a divan, he saw the figure of a woman, indistinct even in white\nfloating drapery. At the sound of his steps upon the floor, the fan in\nher hand stopped, glistening where the starlight struck the jewels with\nwhich it was sprinkled, and she sat up, and called his name.\n\n\u201cJudah, my son!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is I, mother,\u201d he answered, quickening his approach.\n\nGoing to her, he knelt, and she put her arms around him, and with\nkisses pressed him to her bosom.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nThe mother resumed her easy position against the cushion, while the son\ntook place on the divan, his head in her lap. Both of them, looking out\nof the opening, could see a stretch of lower house-tops in the\nvicinity, a bank of blue-blackness over in the west which they knew to\nbe mountains, and the sky, its shadowy depths brilliant with stars. The\ncity was still. Only the winds stirred.\n\n\u201cAmrah tells me something has happened to you,\u201d she said, caressing his\ncheek. \u201cWhen my Judah was a child, I allowed small things to trouble\nhim, but he is now a man. He must not forget\u201d\u2014her voice became very\nsoft\u2014\u201cthat one day he is to be my hero.\u201d\n\nShe spoke in the language almost lost in the land, but which a few\u2014and\nthey were always as rich in blood as in possessions\u2014cherished in its\npurity, that they might be more certainly distinguished from Gentile\npeoples\u2014the language in which the loved Rebekah and Rachel sang to\nBenjamin.\n\nThe words appeared to set him thinking anew; after a while, however, he\ncaught the hand with which she fanned him, and said, \u201cToday, O my\nmother, I have been made to think of many things that never had place\nin my mind before. Tell me, first, what am I to be?\u201d\n\n\u201cHave I not told you? You are to be my hero.\u201d\n\nHe could not see her face, yet he knew she was in play. He became more\nserious.\n\n\u201cYou are very good, very kind, O my mother. No one will ever love me as\nyou do.\u201d\n\nHe kissed the hand over and over again.\n\n\u201cI think I understand why you would have me put off the question,\u201d he\ncontinued. \u201cThus far my life has belonged to you. How gentle, how sweet\nyour control has been! I wish it could last forever. But that may not\nbe. It is the Lord\u2019s will that I shall one day become owner of myself\u2014a\nday of separation, and therefore a dreadful day to you. Let us be brave\nand serious. I will be your hero, but you must put me in the way. You\nknow the law\u2014every son of Israel must have some occupation. I am not\nexempt, and ask now, shall I tend the herds? or till the soil? or drive\nthe saw? or be a clerk or lawyer? What shall I be? Dear, good mother,\nhelp me to an answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cGamaliel has been lecturing today,\u201d she said, thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cIf so, I did not hear him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you have been walking with Simeon, who, they tell me, inherits\nthe genius of his family.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I have not seen him. I have been up on the Market-place, not to\nthe Temple. I visited the young Messala.\u201d\n\nA certain change in his voice attracted the mother\u2019s attention. A\npresentiment quickened the beating of her heart; the fan became\nmotionless again.\n\n\u201cThe Messala!\u201d she said. \u201cWhat could he say to so trouble you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is very much changed.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou mean he has come back a Roman.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cRoman!\u201d she continued, half to herself. \u201cTo all the world the word\nmeans master. How long has he been away?\u201d\n\n\u201cFive years.\u201d\n\nShe raised her head, and looked off into the night.\n\n\u201cThe airs of the Via Sacra are well enough in the streets of the\nEgyptian and in Babylon; but in Jerusalem\u2014our Jerusalem\u2014the covenant\nabides.\u201d\n\nAnd, full of the thought, she settled back into her easy place. He was\nfirst to speak.\n\n\u201cWhat Messala said, my mother, was sharp enough in itself; but, taken\nwith the manner, some of the sayings were intolerable.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I understand you. Rome, her poets, orators, senators,\ncourtiers, are mad with affectation of what they call satire.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose all great peoples are proud,\u201d he went on, scarcely noticing\nthe interruption; \u201cbut the pride of that people is unlike all others;\nin these latter days it is so grown the gods barely escape it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe gods escape!\u201d said the mother, quickly. \u201cMore than one Roman has\naccepted worship as his divine right.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Messala always had his share of the disagreeable quality. When\nhe was a child, I have seen him mock strangers whom even Herod\ncondescended to receive with honors; yet he always spared Judea. For\nthe first time, in conversation with me to-day, he trifled with our\ncustoms and God. As you would have had me do, I parted with him\nfinally. And now, O my dear mother, I would know with more certainty if\nthere be just ground for the Roman\u2019s contempt. In what am I his\ninferior? Is ours a lower order of people? Why should I, even in\nC\u00e6sar\u2019s presence; feel the shrinking of a slave? Tell me especially\nwhy, if I have the soul, and so choose, I may not hunt the honors of\nthe world in all its fields? Why may not I take sword and indulge the\npassion of war? As a poet, why may not I sing of all themes? I can be a\nworker in metals, a keeper of flocks, a merchant, why not an artist\nlike the Greek? Tell me, O my mother\u2014and this is the sum of my\ntrouble\u2014why may not a son of Israel do all a Roman may?\u201d\n\nThe reader will refer these questions back to the conversation in the\nMarket-place; the mother, listening with all her faculties awake, from\nsomething which would have been lost upon one less interested in\nhim\u2014from the connections of the subject, the pointing of the questions,\npossibly his accent and tone\u2014was not less swift in making the same\nreference. She sat up, and in a voice quick and sharp as his own,\nreplied, \u201cI see, I see! From association Messala, in boyhood, was\nalmost a Jew; had he remained here, he might have become a proselyte,\nso much do we all borrow from the influences that ripen our lives; but\nthe years in Rome have been too much for him. I do not wonder at the\nchange; yet\u201d\u2014her voice fell\u2014\u201che might have dealt tenderly at least with\nyou. It is a hard, cruel nature which in youth can forget its first\nloves.\u201d\n\nHer hand dropped lightly upon his forehead, and the fingers caught in\nhis hair and lingered there lovingly, while her eyes sought the highest\nstars in view. Her pride responded to his, not merely in echo, but in\nthe unison of perfect sympathy. She would answer him; at the same time,\nnot for the world would she have had the answer unsatisfactory: an\nadmission of inferiority might weaken his spirit for life. She faltered\nwith misgivings of her own powers.\n\n\u201cWhat you propose, O my Judah, is not a subject for treatment by a\nwoman. Let me put its consideration off till to-morrow, and I will have\nthe wise Simeon\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not send me to the Rector,\u201d he said, abruptly.\n\n\u201cI will have him come to us.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I seek more than information; while he might give me that better\nthan you, O my mother, you can do better by giving me what he\ncannot\u2014the resolution which is the soul of a man\u2019s soul.\u201d\n\nShe swept the heavens with a rapid glance, trying to compass all the\nmeaning of his questions.\n\n\u201cWhile craving justice for ourselves, it is never wise to be unjust to\nothers. To deny valor in the enemy we have conquered is to underrate\nour victory; and if the enemy be strong enough to hold us at bay, much\nmore to conquer us\u201d\u2014she hesitated\u2014\u201cself-respect bids us seek some other\nexplanation of our misfortunes than accusing him of qualities inferior\nto our own.\u201d\n\nThus, speaking to herself rather than to him, she began:\n\n\u201cTake heart, O my son. The Messala is nobly descended; his family has\nbeen illustrious through many generations. In the days of Republican\nRome\u2014how far back I cannot tell\u2014they were famous, some as soldiers,\nsome as civilians. I can recall but one consul of the name; their rank\nwas senatorial, and their patronage always sought because they were\nalways rich. Yet if to-day your friend boasted of his ancestry, you\nmight have shamed him by recounting yours. If he referred to the ages\nthrough which the line is traceable, or to deeds, rank, or wealth\u2014such\nallusions, except when great occasion demands them, are tokens of small\nminds\u2014if he mentioned them in proof of his superiority, then without\ndread, and standing on each particular, you might have challenged him\nto a comparison of records.\u201d\n\nTaking a moment\u2019s thought, the mother proceeded:\n\n\u201cOne of the ideas of fast hold now is that time has much to do with the\nnobility of races and families. A Roman boasting his superiority on\nthat account over a son of Israel will always fail when put to the\nproof. The founding of Rome was his beginning; the very best of them\ncannot trace their descent beyond that period; few of them pretend to\ndo so; and of such as do, I say not one could make good his claim\nexcept by resort to tradition. Messala certainly could not. Let us look\nnow to ourselves. Could we better?\u201d\n\nA little more light would have enabled him to see the pride that\ndiffused itself over her face.\n\n\u201cLet us imagine the Roman putting us to the challenge. I would answer\nhim, neither doubting nor boastful.\u201d\n\nHer voice faltered; a tender thought changed the form of the argument.\n\n\u201cYour father, O my Judah, is at rest with his fathers; yet I remember,\nas though it were this evening, the day he and I, with many rejoicing\nfriends, went up into the Temple to present you to the Lord. We\nsacrificed the doves, and to the priest I gave your name, which he\nwrote in my presence\u2014\u2018Judah, son of Ithamar, of the House of Hur.\u2019 The\nname was then carried away, and written in a book of the division of\nrecords devoted to the saintly family.\n\n\u201cI cannot tell you when the custom of registration in this mode began.\nWe know it prevailed before the flight from Egypt. I have heard Hillel\nsay Abraham caused the record to be first opened with his own name, and\nthe names of his sons, moved by the promises of the Lord which\nseparated him and them from all other races, and made them the highest\nand noblest, the very chosen of the earth. The covenant with Jacob was\nof like effect. \u2018In thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be\nblessed\u2019\u2014so said the angel to Abraham in the place Jehovah-jireh. \u2018And\nthe land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy\nseed\u2019\u2014so the Lord himself said to Jacob asleep at Bethel on the way to\nHaran. Afterwards the wise men looked forward to a just division of the\nland of promise; and, that it might be known in the day of partition\nwho were entitled to portions, the Book of Generations was begun. But\nnot for that alone. The promise of a blessing to all the earth through\nthe patriarch reached far into the future. One name was mentioned in\nconnection with the blessing\u2014the benefactor might be the humblest of\nthe chosen family, for the Lord our God knows no distinctions of rank\nor riches. So, to make the performance clear to men of the generation\nwho were to witness it, and that they might give the glory to whom it\nbelonged, the record was required to be kept with absolute certainty.\nHas it been so kept?\u201d\n\nThe fan played to and fro, until, becoming impatient, he repeated the\nquestion, \u201cIs the record absolutely true?\u201d\n\n\u201cHillel said it was, and of all who have lived no one was so\nwell-informed upon the subject. Our people have at times been heedless\nof some parts of the law, but never of this part. The good rector\nhimself has followed the Books of Generations through three\nperiods\u2014from the promises to the opening of the Temple; thence to the\nCaptivity; thence, again, to the present. Once only were the records\ndisturbed, and that was at the end of the second period; but when the\nnation returned from the long exile, as a first duty to God, Zerubbabel\nrestored the Books, enabling us once more to carry the lines of Jewish\ndescent back unbroken fully two thousand years. And now\u2014\u201d\n\nShe paused as if to allow the hearer to measure the time comprehended\nin the statement.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d she continued, \u201cwhat becomes of the Roman boast of blood\nenriched by ages? By that test, the sons of Israel watching the herds\non old Rephaim yonder are nobler than the noblest of the Marcii.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I, mother\u2014by the Books, who am I?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I have said thus far, my son, had reference to your question. I\nwill answer you. If Messala were here, he might say, as others have\nsaid, that the exact trace of your lineage stopped when the Assyrian\ntook Jerusalem, and razed the Temple, with all its precious stores; but\nyou might plead the pious action of Zerubbabel, and retort that all\nverity in Roman genealogy ended when the barbarians from the West took\nRome, and camped six months upon her desolated site. Did the government\nkeep family histories? If so, what became of them in those dreadful\ndays? No, no; there is verity in our Books of Generations; and,\nfollowing them back to the Captivity, back to the foundation of the\nfirst Temple, back to the march from Egypt, we have absolute assurance\nthat you are lineally sprung from Hur, the associate of Joshua. In the\nmatter of descent sanctified by time, is not the honor perfect? Do you\ncare to pursue further? if so, take the Torah, and search the Book of\nNumbers, and of the seventy-two generations after Adam, you can find\nthe very progenitor of your house.\u201d\n\nThere was silence for a time in the chamber on the roof.\n\n\u201cI thank you, O my mother,\u201d Judah next said, clasping both her hands in\nhis; \u201cI thank you with all my heart. I was right in not having the good\nrector called in; he could not have satisfied me more than you have.\nYet to make a family truly noble, is time alone sufficient?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, you forget, you forget; our claim rests not merely upon time; the\nLord\u2019s preference is our especial glory.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are speaking of the race, and I, mother, of the family\u2014our family.\nIn the years since Father Abraham, what have they achieved? What have\nthey done? What great things to lift them above the level of their\nfellows?\u201d\n\nShe hesitated, thinking she might all this time have mistaken his\nobject. The information he sought might have been for more than\nsatisfaction of wounded vanity. Youth is but the painted shell within\nwhich, continually growing, lives that wondrous thing the spirit of\nman, biding its moment of apparition, earlier in some than in others.\nShe trembled under a perception that this might be the supreme moment\ncome to him; that as children at birth reach out their untried hands\ngrasping for shadows, and crying the while, so his spirit might, in\ntemporary blindness, be struggling to take hold of its impalpable\nfuture. They to whom a boy comes asking, Who am I, and what am I to be?\nhave need of ever so much care. Each word in answer may prove to the\nafter-life what each finger-touch of the artist is to the clay he is\nmodelling.\n\n\u201cI have a feeling, O my Judah,\u201d she said, patting his cheek with the\nhand he had been caressing\u2014\u201cI have the feeling that all I have said has\nbeen in strife with an antagonist more real than imaginary. If Messala\nis the enemy, do not leave me to fight him in the dark. Tell me all he\nsaid.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nThe young Israelite proceeded then, and rehearsed his conversation with\nMessala, dwelling with particularity upon the latter\u2019s speeches in\ncontempt of the Jews, their customs, and much pent round of life.\n\nAfraid to speak the while, the mother listened, discerning the matter\nplainly. Judah had gone to the palace on the Market-place, allured by\nlove of a playmate whom he thought to find exactly as he had been at\nthe parting years before; a man met him, and, in place of laughter and\nreferences to the sports of the past, the man had been full of the\nfuture, and talked of glory to be won, and of riches and power.\nUnconscious of the effect, the visitor had come away hurt in pride, yet\ntouched with a natural ambition; but she, the jealous mother, saw it,\nand, not knowing the turn the aspiration might take, became at once\nJewish in her fear. What if it lured him away from the patriarchal\nfaith? In her view, that consequence was more dreadful than any or all\nothers. She could discover but one way to avert it, and she set about\nthe task, her native power reinforced by love to such degree that her\nspeech took a masculine strength and at times a poet\u2019s fervor.\n\n\u201cThere never has been a people,\u201d she began, \u201cwho did not think\nthemselves at least equal to any other; never a great nation, my son,\nthat did not believe itself the very superior. When the Roman looks\ndown upon Israel and laughs, he merely repeats the folly of the\nEgyptian, the Assyrian, and the Macedonian; and as the laugh is against\nGod, the result will be the same.\u201d\n\nHer voice became firmer.\n\n\u201cThere is no law by which to determine the superiority of nations;\nhence the vanity of the claim, and the idleness of disputes about it. A\npeople risen, run their race, and die either of themselves or at the\nhands of another, who, succeeding to their power, take possession of\ntheir place, and upon their monuments write new names; such is history.\nIf I were called upon to symbolize God and man in the simplest form, I\nwould draw a straight line and a circle, and of the line I would say,\n\u2018This is God, for he alone moves forever straightforward,\u2019 and of the\ncircle, \u2018This is man\u2014such is his progress.\u2019 I do not mean that there is\nno difference between the careers of nations; no two are alike. The\ndifference, however, is not, as some say, in the extent of the circle\nthey describe or the space of earth they cover, but in the sphere of\ntheir movement, the highest being nearest God.\n\n\u201cTo stop here, my son, would be to leave the subject where we began.\nLet us go on. There are signs by which to measure the height of the\ncircle each nation runs while in its course. By them let us compare the\nHebrew and the Roman.\n\n\u201cThe simplest of all the signs is the daily life of the people. Of this\nI will only say, Israel has at times forgotten God, while the Roman\nnever knew him; consequently comparison is not possible.\n\n\u201cYour friend\u2014or your former friend\u2014charged, if I understood you\nrightly, that we have had no poets, artists, or warriors; by which he\nmeant, I suppose, to deny that we have had great men, the next most\ncertain of the signs. A just consideration of this charge requires a\ndefinition at the commencement. A great man, O my boy, is one whose\nlife proves him to have been recognized, if not called, by God. A\nPersian was used to punish our recreant fathers, and he carried them\ninto captivity; another Persian was selected to restore their children\nto the Holy Land; greater than either of them, however, was the\nMacedonian through whom the desolation of Judea and the Temple was\navenged. The special distinction of the men was that they were chosen\nby the Lord, each for a divine purpose; and that they were Gentiles\ndoes not lessen their glory. Do not lose sight of this definition while\nI proceed.\n\n\u201cThere is an idea that war is the most noble occupation of men, and\nthat the most exalted greatness is the growth of battle-fields. Because\nthe world has adopted the idea, be not you deceived. That we must\nworship something is a law which will continue as long as there is\nanything we cannot understand. The prayer of the barbarian is a wail of\nfear addressed to Strength, the only divine quality he can clearly\nconceive; hence his faith in heroes. What is Jove but a Roman hero? The\nGreeks have their great glory because they were the first to set Mind\nabove Strength. In Athens the orator and philosopher were more revered\nthan the warrior. The charioteer and the swiftest runner are still\nidols of the arena; yet the immortelles are reserved for the sweetest\nsinger. The birthplace of one poet was contested by seven cities. But\nwas the Hellene the first to deny the old barbaric faith? No. My son,\nthat glory is ours; against brutalism our fathers erected God; in our\nworship, the wail of fear gave place to the Hosanna and the Psalm. So\nthe Hebrew and the Greek would have carried all humanity forward and\nupward. But, alas! the government of the world presumes war as an\neternal condition; wherefore, over Mind and above God, the Roman has\nenthroned his C\u00e6sar, the absorbent of all attainable power, the\nprohibition of any other greatness.\n\n\u201cThe sway of the Greek was a flowering time for genius. In return for\nthe liberty it then enjoyed, what a company of thinkers the Mind led\nforth? There was a glory for every excellence, and a perfection so\nabsolute that in everything but war even the Roman has stooped to\nimitation. A Greek is now the model of the orators in the Forum;\nlisten, and in every Roman song you will hear the rhythm of the Greek;\nif a Roman opens his mouth speaking wisely of moralities, or\nabstractions, or of the mysteries of nature, he is either a plagiarist\nor the disciple of some school which had a Greek for its founder. In\nnothing but war, I say again, has Rome a claim to originality. Her\ngames and spectacles are Greek inventions, dashed with blood to gratify\nthe ferocity of her rabble; her religion, if such it may be called, is\nmade up of contributions from the faiths of all other peoples; her most\nvenerated gods are from Olympus\u2014even her Mars, and, for that matter,\nthe Jove she much magnifies. So it happens, O my son, that of the whole\nworld our Israel alone can dispute the superiority of the Greek, and\nwith him contest the palm of original genius.\n\n\u201cTo the excellences of other peoples the egotism of a Roman is a\nblindfold, impenetrable as his breastplate. Oh, the ruthless robbers!\nUnder their trampling the earth trembles like a floor beaten with\nflails. Along with the rest we are fallen\u2014alas that I should say it to\nyou, my son! They have our highest places, and the holiest, and the end\nno man can tell; but this I know\u2014they may reduce Judea as an almond\nbroken with hammers, and devour Jerusalem, which is the oil and\nsweetness thereof; yet the glory of the men of Israel will remain a\nlight in the heavens overhead out of reach: for their history is the\nhistory of God, who wrote with their hands, spake with their tongues,\nand was himself in all the good they did, even the least; who dwelt\nwith them, a Lawgiver on Sinai, a Guide in the wilderness, in war a\nCaptain, in government a King; who once and again pushed back the\ncurtains of the pavilion which is his resting-place, intolerably\nbright, and, as a man speaking to men, showed them the right, and the\nway to happiness, and how they should live, and made them promises\nbinding the strength of his Almightiness with covenants sworn to\neverlastingly. O my son, could it be that they with whom Jehovah thus\ndwelt, an awful familiar, derived nothing from him?\u2014that in their lives\nand deeds the common human qualities should not in some degree have\nbeen mixed and colored with the divine? that their genius should not\nhave in it, even after the lapse of ages, some little of heaven?\u201d\n\nFor a time the rustling of the fan was all the sound heard in the\nchamber.\n\n\u201cIn the sense which limits art to sculpture and painting, it is true,\u201d\nshe next said, \u201cIsrael has had no artists.\u201d\n\nThe admission was made regretfully, for it must be remembered she was a\nSadducee, whose faith, unlike that of the Pharisees, permitted a love\nof the beautiful in every form, and without reference to its origin.\n\n\u201cStill he who would do justice,\u201d she proceeded, \u201cwill not forget that\nthe cunning of our hands was bound by the prohibition, \u2018Thou shalt not\nmake unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything;\u2019 which\nthe Sopherim wickedly extended beyond its purpose and time. Nor should\nit be forgotten that long before D\u00e6dalus appeared in Attica and with\nhis wooden statues so transformed sculpture as to make possible the\nschools of Corinth and \u00c6gina, and their ultimate triumphs the Poecile\nand Capitolium\u2014long before the age of D\u00e6dalus, I say, two Israelites,\nBezaleel and Aholiab, the master-builders of the first tabernacle, said\nto have been skilled \u2018in all manner of workmanship,\u2019 wrought the\ncherubim of the mercy-seat above the ark. Of gold beaten, not chiseled,\nwere they; and they were statues in form both human and divine. \u2018And\nthey shall stretch forth their wings on high, .... and their faces\nshall look one to another.\u2019 Who will say they were not beautiful? or\nthat they were not the first statues?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I see now why the Greek outstripped us,\u201d said Judah, intensely\ninterested. \u201cAnd the ark; accursed be the Babylonians who destroyed\nit!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, Judah, be of faith. It was not destroyed, only lost, hidden away\ntoo safely in some cavern of the mountains. One day\u2014Hillel and Shammai\nboth say so\u2014one day, in the Lord\u2019s good time, it will be found and\nbrought forth, and Israel dance before it, singing as of old. And they\nwho look upon the faces of the cherubim then, though they have seen the\nface of the ivory Minerva, will be ready to kiss the hand of the Jew\nfrom love of his genius, asleep through all the thousands of years.\u201d\n\nThe mother, in her eagerness, had risen into something like the\nrapidity and vehemence of a speech-maker; but now, to recover herself,\nor to pick up the thread of her thought, she rested awhile.\n\n\u201cYou are so good, my mother,\u201d he said, in a grateful way. \u201cAnd I will\nnever be done saying so. Shammai could not have talked better, nor\nHillel. I am a true son of Israel again.\u201d\n\n\u201cFlatterer!\u201d she said. \u201cYou do not know that I am but repeating what I\nheard Hillel say in an argument he had one day in my presence with a\nsophist from Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the hearty words are yours.\u201d\n\nDirectly all her earnestness returned.\n\n\u201cWhere was I? Oh yes, I was claiming for our Hebrew fathers the first\nstatues. The trick of the sculptor, Judah, is not all there is of art,\nany more than art is all there is of greatness. I always think of great\nmen marching down the centuries in groups and goodly companies,\nseparable according to nationalities; here the Indian, there the\nEgyptian, yonder the Assyrian; above them the music of trumpets and the\nbeauty of banners; and on their right hand and left, as reverent\nspectators, the generations from the beginning, numberless. As they go,\nI think of the Greek, saying, \u2018Lo! The Hellene leads the way.\u2019 Then the\nRoman replies, \u2018Silence! what was your place is ours now; we have left\nyou behind as dust trodden on.\u2019 And all the time, from the far front\nback over the line of march, as well as forward into the farthest\nfuture, streams a light of which the wranglers know nothing, except\nthat it is forever leading them on\u2014the Light of Revelation! Who are\nthey that carry it? Ah, the old Judean blood! How it leaps at the\nthought! By the light we know them. Thrice blessed, O our fathers,\nservants of God, keepers of the covenants! Ye are the leaders of men,\nthe living and the dead. The front is thine; and though every Roman\nwere a C\u00e6sar, ye shall not lose it!\u201d\n\nJudah was deeply stirred.\n\n\u201cDo not stop, I pray you,\u201d he cried. \u201cYou give me to hear the sound of\ntimbrels. I wait for Miriam and the women who went after her dancing\nand singing.\u201d\n\nShe caught his feeling, and, with ready wit, wove it into her speech.\n\n\u201cVery well, my son. If you can hear the timbrel of the prophetess, you\ncan do what I was about to ask; you can use your fancy, and stand with\nme, as if by the wayside, while the chosen of Israel pass us at the\nhead of the procession. Now they come\u2014the patriarchs first; next the\nfathers of the tribes. I almost hear the bells of their camels and the\nlowing of their herds. Who is he that walks alone between the\ncompanies? An old man, yet his eye is not dim, nor his natural force\nabated. He knew the Lord face to face! Warrior, poet, orator, lawgiver,\nprophet, his greatness is as the sun at morning, its flood of splendor\nquenching all other lights, even that of the first and noblest of the\nC\u00e6sars. After him the judges. And then the kings\u2014the son of Jesse, a\nhero in war, and a singer of songs eternal as that of the sea; and his\nson, who, passing all other kings in riches and wisdom, and while\nmaking the Desert habitable, and in its waste places planting cities,\nforgot not Jerusalem which the Lord had chosen for his seat on earth.\nBend lower, my son! These that come next are the first of their kind,\nand the last. Their faces are raised, as if they heard a voice in the\nsky and were listening. Their lives were full of sorrows. Their\ngarments smell of tombs and caverns. Hearken to a woman among\nthem\u2014\u2018Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously!\u2019 Nay, put\nyour forehead in the dust before them! They were tongues of God, his\nservants, who looked through heaven, and, seeing all the future, wrote\nwhat they saw, and left the writing to be proven by time. Kings turned\npale as they approached them, and nations trembled at the sound of\ntheir voices. The elements waited upon them. In their hands they\ncarried every bounty and every plague. See the Tishbite and his servant\nElisha! See the sad son of Hilkiah, and him, the seer of visions, by\nthe river of Chebar! And of the three children of Judah who refused the\nimage of the Babylonian, lo! that one who, in the feast to the thousand\nlords, so confounded the astrologers. And yonder\u2014O my son, kiss the\ndust again!\u2014yonder the gentle son of Amoz, from whom the world has its\npromise of the Messiah to come!\u201d\n\nIn this passage the fan had been kept in rapid play; it stopped now,\nand her voice sank low.\n\n\u201cYou are tired,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he replied, \u201cI was listening to a new song of Israel.\u201d\n\nThe mother was still intent upon her purpose, and passed the pleasant\nspeech.\n\n\u201cIn such light as I could, my Judah, I have set our great men before\nyou\u2014patriarchs, legislators, warriors, singers, prophets. Turn we to\nthe best of Rome. Against Moses place C\u00e6sar, and Tarquin against\nDavid; Sylla against either of the Maccabees; the best of the consuls\nagainst the judges; Augustus against Solomon, and you are done:\ncomparison ends there. But think then of the prophets\u2014greatest of the\ngreat.\u201d\n\nShe laughed scornfully.\n\n\u201cPardon me. I was thinking of the soothsayer who warned Caius Julius\nagainst the Ides of March, and fancied him looking for the omens of\nevil which his master despised in the entrails of a chicken. From that\npicture turn to Elijah sitting on the hill-top on the way to Samaria,\namid the smoking bodies of the captains and their fifties, warning the\nson of Ahab of the wrath of our God. Finally, O my Judah\u2014if such speech\nbe reverent\u2014how shall we judge Jehovah and Jupiter unless it be by what\ntheir servants have done in their names? And as for what you shall do\u2014\u201d\n\nShe spoke the latter words slowly, and with a tremulous utterance.\n\n\u201cAs for what you shall do, my boy\u2014serve the Lord, the Lord God of\nIsrael, not Rome. For a child of Abraham there is no glory except in\nthe Lord\u2019s ways, and in them there is much glory.\u201d\n\n\u201cI may be a soldier then?\u201d Judah asked.\n\n\u201cWhy not? Did not Moses call God a man of war?\u201d\n\nThere was then a long silence in the summer chamber.\n\n\u201cYou have my permission,\u201d she said, finally; \u201cif only you serve the\nLord instead of C\u00e6sar.\u201d\n\nHe was content with the condition, and by-and-by fell asleep. She arose\nthen, and put the cushion under his head, and, throwing a shawl over\nhim and kissing him tenderly, went away.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nThe good man, like the bad, must die; but, remembering the lesson of\nour faith, we say of him and the event, \u201cNo matter, he will open his\neyes in heaven.\u201d Nearest this in life is the waking from healthful\nsleep to a quick consciousness of happy sights and sounds.\n\nWhen Judah awoke, the sun was up over the mountains; the pigeons were\nabroad in flocks, filling the air with the gleams of their white wings;\nand off southeast he beheld the Temple, an apparition of gold in the\nblue of the sky. These, however, were familiar objects, and they\nreceived but a glance; upon the edge of the divan, close by him, a girl\nscarcely fifteen sat singing to the accompaniment of a nebel, which she\nrested upon her knee, and touched gracefully. To her he turned\nlistening; and this was what she sang:\n\nTHE SONG.\n\n\n\u201cWake not, but hear me, love!\n     Adrift, adrift on slumber\u2019s sea,\n     Thy spirit call to list to me.\nWake not, but hear me, love!\n     A gift from Sleep, the restful king,\n     All happy, happy dreams I bring.\n\n\n\u201cWake not, but hear me, love!\n     Of all the world of dreams \u2019tis thine\n     This once to choose the most divine.\nSo choose, and sleep, my love!\n     But ne\u2019er again in choice be free,\n     Unless, unless\u2014thou dream\u2019st of me.\u201d\n\n\nShe put the instrument down, and, resting her hands in her lap, waited\nfor him to speak. And as it has become necessary to tell somewhat of\nher, we will avail ourselves of the chance, and add such particulars of\nthe family into whose privacy we are brought as the reader may wish to\nknow.\n\nThe favors of Herod had left surviving him many persons of vast estate.\nWhere this fortune was joined to undoubted lineal descent from some\nfamous son of one of the tribes, especially Judah, the happy individual\nwas accounted a Prince of Jerusalem\u2014a distinction which sufficed to\nbring him the homage of his less favored countrymen, and the respect,\nif nothing more, of the Gentiles with whom business and social\ncircumstance brought him into dealing. Of this class none had won in\nprivate or public life a higher regard than the father of the lad whom\nwe have been following. With a remembrance of his nationality which\nnever failed him, he had yet been true to the king, and served him\nfaithfully at home and abroad. Some offices had taken him to Rome,\nwhere his conduct attracted the notice of Augustus, who strove without\nreserve to engage his friendship. In his house, accordingly, were many\npresents, such as had gratified the vanity of kings\u2014purple togas, ivory\nchairs, golden pateroe\u2014chiefly valuable on account of the imperial hand\nwhich had honorably conferred them. Such a man could not fail to be\nrich; yet his wealth was not altogether the largess of royal patrons.\nHe had welcomed the law that bound him to some pursuit; and, instead of\none, he entered into many. Of the herdsmen watching flocks on the\nplains and hill-sides, far as old Lebanon, numbers reported to him as\ntheir employer; in the cities by the sea, and in those inland, he\nfounded houses of traffic; his ships brought him silver from Spain,\nwhose mines were then the richest known; while his caravans came twice\na year from the East, laden with silks and spices. In faith he was a\nHebrew, observant of the law and every essential rite; his place in the\nsynagogue and Temple knew him well; he was thoroughly learned in the\nScriptures; he delighted in the society of the college-masters, and\ncarried his reverence for Hillel almost to the point of worship. Yet he\nwas in no sense a Separatist; his hospitality took in strangers from\nevery land; the carping Pharisees even accused him of having more than\nonce entertained Samaritans at his table. Had he been a Gentile, and\nlived, the world might have heard of him as the rival of Herodes\nAtticus: as it was, he perished at sea some ten years before this\nsecond period of our story, in the prime of life, and lamented\neverywhere in Judea. We are already acquainted with two members of his\nfamily\u2014his widow and son; the only other was a daughter\u2014she whom we\nhave seen singing to her brother.\n\nTirzah was her name, and as the two looked at each other, their\nresemblance was plain. Her features had the regularity of his, and were\nof the same Jewish type; they had also the charm of childish innocency\nof expression. Home-life and its trustful love permitted the negligent\nattire in which she appeared. A chemise buttoned upon the right\nshoulder, and passing loosely over the breast and back and under the\nleft arm, but half concealed her person above the waist, while it left\nthe arms entirely nude. A girdle caught the folds of the garment,\nmarking the commencement of the skirt. The coiffure was very simple and\nbecoming\u2014a silken cap, Tyrian-dyed; and over that a striped scarf of\nthe same material, beautifully embroidered, and wound about in thin\nfolds so as to show the shape of the head without enlarging it; the\nwhole finished by a tassel dropping from the crown point of the cap.\nShe had rings, ear and finger; anklets and bracelets, all of gold; and\naround her neck there was a collar of gold, curiously garnished with a\nnetwork of delicate chains, to which were pendants of pearl. The edges\nof her eyelids were painted, and the tips of her fingers stained. Her\nhair fell in two long plaits down her back. A curled lock rested upon\neach cheek in front of the ear. Altogether it would have been\nimpossible to deny her grace, refinement, and beauty.\n\n\u201cVery pretty, my Tirzah, very pretty!\u201d he said, with animation.\n\n\u201cThe song?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014and the singer, too. It has the conceit of a Greek. Where did you\nget it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou remember the Greek who sang in the theatre last month? They said\nhe used to be a singer at the court for Herod and his sister Salome. He\ncame out just after an exhibition of wrestlers, when the house was full\nof noise. At his first note everything became so quiet that I heard\nevery word. I got the song from him.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he sang in Greek.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I in Hebrew.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes. I am proud of my little sister. Have you another as good?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery many. But let them go now. Amrah sent me to tell you she will\nbring you your breakfast, and that you need not come down. She should\nbe here by this time. She thinks you sick\u2014that a dreadful accident\nhappened you yesterday. What was it? Tell me, and I will help Amrah\ndoctor you. She knows the cures of the Egyptians, who were always a\nstupid set; but I have a great many recipes of the Arabs who\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cAre even more stupid than the Egyptians,\u201d he said, shaking his head.\n\n\u201cDo you think so? Very well, then,\u201d she replied, almost without pause,\nand putting her hands to her left ear. \u201cWe will have nothing to do with\nany of them. I have here what is much surer and better\u2014the amulet which\nwas given to some of our people\u2014I cannot tell when, it was so far\nback\u2014by a Persian magician. See, the inscription is almost worn out.\u201d\n\nShe offered him the earring, which he took, looked at, and handed back,\nlaughing.\n\n\u201cIf I were dying, Tirzah, I could not use the charm. It is a relic of\nidolatry, forbidden every believing son and daughter of Abraham. Take\nit, but do not wear it any more.\u201d\n\n\u201cForbidden! Not so,\u201d she said. \u201cOur father\u2019s mother wore it I do not\nknow how many Sabbaths in her life. It has cured I do not know how many\npeople\u2014more than three anyhow. It is approved\u2014look, here is the mark of\nthe rabbis.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no faith in amulets.\u201d\n\nShe raised her eyes to his in astonishment.\n\n\u201cWhat would Amrah say?\u201d\n\n\u201cAmrah\u2019s father and mother tended sakiyeh for a garden on the Nile.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Gamaliel!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe says they are godless inventions of unbelievers and Shechemites.\u201d\n\nTirzah looked at the ring doubtfully.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do with it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWear it, my little sister. It becomes you\u2014it helps make you beautiful,\nthough I think you that without help.\u201d\n\nSatisfied, she returned the amulet to her ear just as Amrah entered the\nsummer chamber, bearing a platter, with wash-bowl, water, and napkins.\n\nNot being a Pharisee, the ablution was short and simple with Judah. The\nservant then went out, leaving Tirzah to dress his hair. When a lock\nwas disposed to her satisfaction, she would unloose the small metallic\nmirror which, as was the fashion among her fair countrywomen, she wore\nat her girdle, and gave it to him, that he might see the triumph, and\nhow handsome it made him. Meanwhile they kept up their conversation.\n\n\u201cWhat do you think, Tirzah?\u2014I am going away.\u201d\n\nShe dropped her hands with amazement.\n\n\u201cGoing away! When? Where? For what?\u201d\n\nHe laughed.\n\n\u201cThree questions, all in a breath! What a body you are!\u201d Next instant\nhe became serious. \u201cYou know the law requires me to follow some\noccupation. Our good father set me an example. Even you would despise\nme if I spent in idleness the results of his industry and knowledge. I\nam going to Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I will go with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must stay with mother. If both of us leave her she will die.\u201d\n\nThe brightness faded from her face.\n\n\u201cAh, yes, yes! But\u2014must you go? Here in Jerusalem you can learn all\nthat is needed to be a merchant\u2014if that is what you are thinking of.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut that is not what I am thinking of. The law does not require the\nson to be what the father was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat else can you be?\u201d\n\n\u201cA soldier,\u201d he replied, with a certain pride of voice.\n\nTears came into her eyes.\n\n\u201cYou will be killed.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf God\u2019s will, be it so. But, Tirzah, the soldiers are not all\nkilled.\u201d\n\nShe threw her arms around his neck, as if to hold him back.\n\n\u201cWe are so happy! Stay at home, my brother.\u201d\n\n\u201cHome cannot always be what it is. You yourself will be going away\nbefore long.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever!\u201d\n\nHe smiled at her earnestness.\n\n\u201cA prince of Judah, or some other of one of the tribes, will come soon\nand claim my Tirzah, and ride away with her, to be the light of another\nhouse. What will then become of me?\u201d\n\nShe answered with sobs.\n\n\u201cWar is a trade,\u201d he continued, more soberly. \u201cTo learn it thoroughly,\none must go to school, and there is no school like a Roman camp.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would not fight for Rome?\u201d she asked, holding her breath.\n\n\u201cAnd you\u2014even you hate her. The whole world hates her. In that, O\nTirzah, find the reason of the answer I give you\u2014 Yes, I will fight for\nher, if, in return, she will teach me how one day to fight against\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen will you go?\u201d\n\nAmrah\u2019s steps were then heard returning.\n\n\u201cHist!\u201d he said. \u201cDo not let her know of what I am thinking.\u201d\n\nThe faithful slave came in with breakfast, and placed the waiter\nholding it upon a stool before them; then, with white napkins upon her\narm, she remained to serve them. They dipped their fingers in a bowl of\nwater, and were rinsing them, when a noise arrested their attention.\nThey listened, and distinguished martial music in the street on the\nnorth side of the house.\n\n\u201cSoldiers from the Praetorium! I must see them,\u201d he cried, springing\nfrom the divan, and running out.\n\nIn a moment more he was leaning over the parapet of tiles which guarded\nthe roof at the extreme northeast corner, so absorbed that he did not\nnotice Tirzah by his side, resting one hand upon his shoulder.\n\nTheir position\u2014the roof being the highest one in the locality\u2014commanded\nthe house-tops eastward as far as the huge irregular Tower of Antonia,\nwhich has been already mentioned as a citadel for the garrison and\nmilitary headquarters for the governor. The street, not more than ten\nfeet wide, was spanned here and there by bridges, open and covered,\nwhich, like the roofs along the way, were beginning to be occupied by\nmen, women, and children, called out by the music. The word is used,\nthough it is hardly fitting; what the people heard when they came forth\nwas rather an uproar of trumpets and the shriller _litui_ so delightful\nto the soldiers.\n\nThe array after a while came into view of the two upon the house of the\nHurs. First, a vanguard of the light-armed\u2014mostly slingers and\nbowmen\u2014marching with wide intervals between their ranks and files; next\na body of heavy-armed infantry, bearing large shields, and hastoe\nlongoe, or spears identical with those used in the duels before Ilium;\nthen the musicians; and then an officer riding alone, but followed\nclosely by a guard of cavalry; after them again, a column of infantry\nalso heavy-armed, which, moving in close order, crowded the streets\nfrom wall to wall, and appeared to be without end.\n\nThe brawny limbs of the men; the cadenced motion from right to left of\nthe shields; the sparkle of scales, buckles, and breastplates and\nhelms, all perfectly burnished; the plumes nodding above the tall\ncrests; the sway of ensigns and iron-shod spears; the bold, confident\nstep, exactly timed and measured; the demeanor, so grave, yet so\nwatchful; the machine-like unity of the whole moving mass\u2014made an\nimpression upon Judah, but as something felt rather than seen. Two\nobjects fixed his attention\u2014the eagle of the legion first\u2014a gilded\neffigy perched on a tall shaft, with wings outspread until they met\nabove its head. He knew that, when brought from its chamber in the\nTower, it had been received with divine honors.\n\nThe officer riding alone in the midst of the column was the other\nattraction. His head was bare; otherwise he was in full armor. At his\nleft hip he wore a short sword; in his hand, however, he carried a\ntruncheon, which looked like a roll of white paper. He sat upon a\npurple cloth instead of a saddle, and that, and a bridle with a\nforestall of gold and reins of yellow silk broadly fringed at the lower\nedge, completed the housings of the horse.\n\nWhile the man was yet in the distance, Judah observed that his presence\nwas sufficient to throw the people looking at him into angry\nexcitement. They would lean over the parapets or stand boldly out, and\nshake their fists at him; they followed him with loud cries, and spit\nat him as he passed under the bridges; the women even flung their\nsandals, sometimes with such good effect as to hit him. When he was\nnearer, the yells became distinguishable\u2014\u201cRobber, tyrant, dog of a\nRoman! Away with Ishmael! Give us back our Hannas!\u201d\n\nWhen quite near, Judah could see that, as was but natural, the man did\nnot share the indifference so superbly shown by the soldiers; his face\nwas dark and sullen, and the glances he occasionally cast at his\npersecutors were full of menace; the very timid shrank from them.\n\nNow the lad had heard of the custom, borrowed from a habit of the first\nC\u00e6sar, by which chief commanders, to indicate their rank, appeared in\npublic with only a laurel vine upon their heads. By that sign he knew\nthis officer\u2014VALERIUS GRATUS, THE NEW PROCURATOR OF JUDEA!\n\nTo say truth now, the Roman under the unprovoked storm had the young\nJew\u2019s sympathy; so that when he reached the corner of the house, the\nlatter leaned yet farther over the parapet to see him go by, and in the\nact rested a hand upon a tile which had been a long time cracked and\nallowed to go unnoticed. The pressure was strong enough to displace the\nouter piece, which started to fall. A thrill of horror shot through the\nyouth. He reached out to catch the missile. In appearance the motion\nwas exactly that of one pitching something from him. The effort\nfailed\u2014nay, it served to push the descending fragment farther out over\nthe wall. He shouted with all his might. The soldiers of the guard\nlooked up; so did the great man, and that moment the missile struck\nhim, and he fell from his seat as dead.\n\nThe cohort halted; the guards leaped from their horses, and hastened to\ncover the chief with their shields. On the other hand, the people who\nwitnessed the affair, never doubting that the blow had been purposely\ndealt, cheered the lad as he yet stooped in full view over the parapet,\ntransfixed by what he beheld, and by anticipation of the consequences\nflashed all too plainly upon him.\n\nA mischievous spirit flew with incredible speed from roof to roof along\nthe line of march, seizing the people, and urging them all alike. They\nlaid hands upon the parapets and tore up the tiling and the sunburnt\nmud of which the house-tops were for the most part made, and with blind\nfury began to fling them upon the legionaries halted below. A battle\nthen ensued. Discipline, of course, prevailed. The struggle, the\nslaughter, the skill of one side, the desperation of the other, are\nalike unnecessary to our story. Let us look rather to the wretched\nauthor of it all.\n\nHe arose from the parapet, his face very pale.\n\n\u201cO Tirzah, Tirzah! What will become of us?\u201d\n\nShe had not seen the occurrence below, but was listening to the\nshouting and watching the mad activity of the people in view on the\nhouses. Something terrible was going on, she knew; but what it was, or\nthe cause, or that she or any of those dear to her were in danger, she\ndid not know.\n\n\u201cWhat has happened? What does it all mean?\u201d she asked, in sudden alarm.\n\n\u201cI have killed the Roman governor. The tile fell upon him.\u201d\n\nAn unseen hand appeared to sprinkle her face with the dust of ashes\u2014it\ngrew white so instantly. She put her arm around him, and looked\nwistfully, but without a word, into his eyes. His fears had passed to\nher, and the sight of them gave him strength.\n\n\u201cI did not do it purposely, Tirzah\u2014it was an accident,\u201d he said, more\ncalmly.\n\n\u201cWhat will they do?\u201d she asked.\n\nHe looked off over the tumult momentarily deepening in the street and\non the roofs, and thought of the sullen countenance of Gratus. If he\nwere not dead, where would his vengeance stop? And if he were dead, to\nwhat height of fury would not the violence of the people lash the\nlegionaries? To evade an answer, he peered over the parapet again, just\nas the guard were assisting the Roman to remount his horse.\n\n\u201cHe lives, he lives, Tirzah! Blessed be the Lord God of our fathers!\u201d\n\nWith that outcry, and a brightened countenance, he drew back and\nreplied to her question.\n\n\u201cBe not afraid, Tirzah. I will explain how it happened, and they will\nremember our father and his services, and not hurt us.\u201d\n\nHe was leading her to the summer-house, when the roof jarred under\ntheir feet, and a crash of strong timbers being burst away, followed by\na cry of surprise and agony, arose apparently from the court-yard\nbelow. He stopped and listened. The cry was repeated; then came a rush\nof many feet, and voices lifted in rage blent with voices in prayer;\nand then the screams of women in mortal terror. The soldiers had beaten\nin the north gate, and were in possession of the house. The terrible\nsense of being hunted smote him. His first impulse was to fly; but\nwhere? Nothing but wings would serve him. Tirzah, her eyes wild with\nfear, caught his arm.\n\n\u201cO Judah, what does it mean?\u201d\n\nThe servants were being butchered\u2014and his mother! Was not one of the\nvoices he heard hers? With all the will left him, he said, \u201cStay here,\nand wait for me, Tirzah. I will go down and see what is the matter, and\ncome back to you.\u201d\n\nHis voice was not steady as he wished. She clung closer to him.\n\nClearer, shriller, no longer a fancy, his mother\u2019s cry arose. He\nhesitated no longer.\n\n\u201cCome, then, let us go.\u201d\n\nThe terrace or gallery at the foot of the steps was crowded with\nsoldiers. Other soldiers with drawn swords ran in and out of the\nchambers. At one place a number of women on their knees clung to each\nother or prayed for mercy. Apart from them, one with torn garments, and\nlong hair streaming over her face, struggled to tear loose from a man\nall whose strength was tasked to keep his hold. Her cries were\nshrillest of all; cutting through the clamor, they had risen\ndistinguishably to the roof. To her Judah sprang\u2014his steps were long\nand swift, almost a winged flight\u2014\u201cMother, mother!\u201d he shouted. She\nstretched her hands towards him; but when almost touching them he was\nseized and forced aside. Then he heard some one say, speaking loudly,\n\n\u201cThat is he!\u201d\n\nJudah looked, and saw\u2014Messala.\n\n\u201cWhat, the assassin\u2014that?\u201d said a tall man, in legionary armor of\nbeautiful finish. \u201cWhy, he is but a boy.\u201d\n\n\u201cGods!\u201d replied Messala, not forgetting his drawl. \u201cA new philosophy!\nWhat would Seneca say to the proposition that a man must be old before\nhe can hate enough to kill? You have him; and that is his mother;\nyonder his sister. You have the whole family.\u201d\n\nFor love of them, Judah forgot his quarrel.\n\n\u201cHelp them, O my Messala! Remember our childhood and help them.\nI\u2014Judah\u2014pray you.\u201d\n\nMessala affected not to hear.\n\n\u201cI cannot be of further use to you,\u201d he said to the officer. \u201cThere is\nricher entertainment in the street. Down Eros, up Mars!\u201d\n\nWith the last words he disappeared. Judah understood him, and, in the\nbitterness of his soul, prayed to Heaven.\n\n\u201cIn the hour of thy vengeance, O Lord,\u201d he said, \u201cbe mine the hand to\nput it upon him!\u201d\n\nBy great exertion, he drew nearer the officer.\n\n\u201cO sir, the woman you hear is my mother. Spare her, spare my sister\nyonder. God is just, he will give you mercy for mercy.\u201d\n\nThe man appeared to be moved.\n\n\u201cTo the Tower with the women!\u201d he shouted, \u201cbut do them no harm. I will\ndemand them of you.\u201d Then to those holding Judah, he said, \u201cGet cords,\nand bind his hands, and take him to the street. His punishment is\nreserved.\u201d\n\nThe mother was carried away. The little Tirzah, in her home attire,\nstupefied with fear, went passively with her keepers. Judah gave each\nof them a last look, and covered his face with his hands, as if to\npossess himself of the scene fadelessly. He may have shed tears, though\nno one saw them.\n\nThere took place in him then what may be justly called the wonder of\nlife. The thoughtful reader of these pages has ere this discerned\nenough to know that the young Jew in disposition was gentle even to\nwomanliness\u2014a result that seldom fails the habit of loving and being\nloved. The circumstances through which he had come had made no call\nupon the harsher elements of his nature, if such he had. At times he\nhad felt the stir and impulses of ambition, but they had been like the\nformless dreams of a child walking by the sea and gazing at the coming\nand going of stately ships. But now, if we can imagine an idol,\nsensible of the worship it was accustomed to, dashed suddenly from its\naltar, and lying amidst the wreck of its little world of love, an idea\nmay be had of what had befallen the young Ben-Hur, and of its effect\nupon his being. Yet there was no sign, nothing to indicate that he had\nundergone a change, except that when he raised his head, and held his\narms out to be bound, the bend of the Cupid\u2019s bow had vanished from his\nlips. In that instant he had put off childhood and become a man.\n\nA trumpet sounded in the court-yard. With the cessation of the call,\nthe gallery was cleared of the soldiery; many of whom, as they dared\nnot appear in the ranks with visible plunder in their hands, flung what\nthey had upon the floor, until it was strewn with articles of richest\nvirtu. When Judah descended, the formation was complete, and the\nofficer waiting to see his last order executed.\n\nThe mother, daughter, and entire household were led out of the north\ngate, the ruins of which choked the passageway. The cries of the\ndomestics, some of whom had been born in the house, were most pitiable.\nWhen, finally, the horses and all the dumb tenantry of the place were\ndriven past him, Judah began to comprehend the scope of the\nprocurator\u2019s vengeance. The very structure was devoted. Far as the\norder was possible of execution, nothing living was to be left within\nits walls. If in Judea there were others desperate enough to think of\nassassinating a Roman governor, the story of what befell the princely\nfamily of Hur would be a warning to them, while the ruin of the\nhabitation would keep the story alive.\n\nThe officer waited outside while a detail of men temporarily restored\nthe gate.\n\nIn the street the fighting had almost ceased. Upon the houses here and\nthere clouds of dust told where the struggle was yet prolonged. The\ncohort was, for the most part, standing at rest, its splendor, like its\nranks, in nowise diminished. Borne past the point of care for himself,\nJudah had heart for nothing in view but the prisoners, among whom he\nlooked in vain for his mother and Tirzah.\n\nSuddenly, from the earth where she had been lying, a woman arose and\nstarted swiftly back to the gate. Some of the guards reached out to\nseize her, and a great shout followed their failure. She ran to Judah,\nand, dropping down, clasped his knees, the coarse black hair powdered\nwith dust veiling her eyes.\n\n\u201cO Amrah, good Amrah,\u201d he said to her, \u201cGod help you; I cannot.\u201d\n\nShe could not speak.\n\nHe bent down, and whispered, \u201cLive, Amrah, for Tirzah and my mother.\nThey will come back, and\u2014\u201d\n\nA soldier drew her away; whereupon she sprang up and rushed through the\ngateway and passage into the vacant court-yard.\n\n\u201cLet her go,\u201d the officer shouted. \u201cWe will seal the house, and she\nwill starve.\u201d\n\nThe men resumed their work, and, when it was finished there, passed\nround to the west side. That gate was also secured, after which the\npalace of the Hurs was lost to use.\n\nThe cohort at length marched back to the Tower, where the procurator\nstayed to recover from his hurts and dispose of his prisoners. On the\ntenth day following, he visited the Market-place.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nNext day a detachment of legionaries went to the desolated palace, and,\nclosing the gates permanently, plastered the corners with wax, and at\nthe sides nailed a notice in Latin:\n\n\u201cTHIS IS THE PROPERTY OF THE EMPEROR.\u201d\n\nIn the haughty Roman idea, the sententious announcement was thought\nsufficient for the purpose\u2014and it was.\n\nThe day after that again, about noon, a decurion with his command of\nten horsemen approached Nazareth from the south\u2014that is, from the\ndirection of Jerusalem. The place was then a straggling village,\nperched on a hill-side, and so insignificant that its one street was\nlittle more than a path well beaten by the coming and going of flocks\nand herds. The great plain of Esdraelon crept close to it on the south,\nand from the height on the west a view could be had of the shores of\nthe Mediterranean, the region beyond the Jordan, and Hermon. The valley\nbelow, and the country on every side, were given to gardens, vineyards,\norchards, and pasturage. Groves of palm-trees Orientalized the\nlandscape. The houses, in irregular assemblage, were of the humbler\nclass\u2014square, one-story, flat-roofed, and covered with bright-green\nvines. The drought that had burned the hills of Judea to a crisp, brown\nand lifeless, stopped at the boundary-line of Galilee.\n\nA trumpet, sounded when the cavalcade drew near the village, had a\nmagical effect upon the inhabitants. The gates and front doors cast\nforth groups eager to be the first to catch the meaning of a visitation\nso unusual.\n\nNazareth, it must be remembered, was not only aside from any great\nhighway, but within the sway of Judas of Gamala; wherefore it should\nnot be hard to imagine the feelings with which the legionaries were\nreceived. But when they were up and traversing the street, the duty\nthat occupied them became apparent, and then fear and hatred were lost\nin curiosity, under the impulse of which the people, knowing there must\nbe a halt at the well in the northeastern part of the town, quit their\ngates and doors, and closed in after the procession.\n\nA prisoner whom the horsemen were guarding was the object of curiosity.\nHe was afoot, bareheaded, half naked, his hands bound behind him. A\nthong fixed to his wrists was looped over the neck of a horse. The dust\nwent with the party when in movement, wrapping him in yellow fog,\nsometimes in a dense cloud. He drooped forward, footsore and faint. The\nvillagers could see he was young.\n\nAt the well the decurion halted, and, with most of the men, dismounted.\nThe prisoner sank down in the dust of the road, stupefied, and asking\nnothing: apparently he was in the last stage of exhaustion. Seeing,\nwhen they came near, that he was but a boy, the villagers would have\nhelped him had they dared.\n\nIn the midst of their perplexity, and while the pitchers were passing\namong the soldiers, a man was descried coming down the road from\nSepphoris. At sight of him a woman cried out, \u201cLook! Yonder comes the\ncarpenter. Now we will hear something.\u201d\n\nThe person spoken of was quite venerable in appearance. Thin white\nlocks fell below the edge of his full turban, and a mass of still\nwhiter beard flowed down the front of his coarse gray gown. He came\nslowly, for, in addition to his age, he carried some tools\u2014an axe, a\nsaw, and a drawing-knife, all very rude and heavy\u2014and had evidently\ntravelled some distance without rest.\n\nHe stopped close by to survey the assemblage.\n\n\u201cO Rabbi, good Rabbi Joseph!\u201d cried a woman, running to him. \u201cHere is a\nprisoner; come ask the soldiers about him, that we may know who he is,\nand what he has done, and what they are going to do with him.\u201d\n\nThe rabbi\u2019s face remained stolid; he glanced at the prisoner, however,\nand presently went to the officer.\n\n\u201cThe peace of the Lord be with you!\u201d he said, with unbending gravity.\n\n\u201cAnd that of the gods with you,\u201d the decurion replied.\n\n\u201cAre you from Jerusalem?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour prisoner is young.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn years, yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I ask what he has done?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is an assassin.\u201d\n\nThe people repeated the word in astonishment, but Rabbi Joseph pursued\nhis inquest.\n\n\u201cIs he a son of Israel?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a Jew,\u201d said the Roman, dryly.\n\nThe wavering pity of the bystanders came back.\n\n\u201cI know nothing of your tribes, but can speak of his family,\u201d the\nspeaker continued. \u201cYou may have heard of a prince of Jerusalem named\nHur\u2014Ben-Hur, they called him. He lived in Herod\u2019s day.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have seen him,\u201d Joseph said.\n\n\u201cWell, this is his son.\u201d\n\nExclamations became general, and the decurion hastened to stop them.\n\n\u201cIn the streets of Jerusalem, day before yesterday, he nearly killed\nthe noble Gratus by flinging a tile upon his head from the roof of a\npalace\u2014his father\u2019s, I believe.\u201d\n\nThere was a pause in the conversation during which the Nazarenes gazed\nat the young Ben-Hur as at a wild beast.\n\n\u201cDid he kill him?\u201d asked the rabbi.\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is under sentence.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014the galleys for life.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Lord help him!\u201d said Joseph, for once moved out of his stolidity.\n\nThereupon a youth who came up with Joseph, but had stood behind him\nunobserved, laid down an axe he had been carrying, and, going to the\ngreat stone standing by the well, took from it a pitcher of water. The\naction was so quiet that before the guard could interfere, had they\nbeen disposed to do so, he was stooping over the prisoner, and offering\nhim drink.\n\nThe hand laid kindly upon his shoulder awoke the unfortunate Judah,\nand, looking up, he saw a face he never forgot\u2014the face of a boy about\nhis own age, shaded by locks of yellowish bright chestnut hair; a face\nlighted by dark-blue eyes, at the time so soft, so appealing, so full\nof love and holy purpose, that they had all the power of command and\nwill. The spirit of the Jew, hardened though it was by days and nights\nof suffering, and so embittered by wrong that its dreams of revenge\ntook in all the world, melted under the stranger\u2019s look, and became as\na child\u2019s. He put his lips to the pitcher, and drank long and deep. Not\na word was said to him, nor did he say a word.\n\nWhen the draught was finished, the hand that had been resting upon the\nsufferer\u2019s shoulder was placed upon his head, and stayed there in the\ndusty locks time enough to say a blessing; the stranger then returned\nthe pitcher to its place on the stone, and, taking his axe again, went\nback to Rabbi Joseph. All eyes went with him, the decurion\u2019s as well as\nthose of the villagers.\n\nThis was the end of the scene at the well. When the men had drunk, and\nthe horses, the march was resumed. But the temper of the decurion was\nnot as it had been; he himself raised the prisoner from the dust, and\nhelped him on a horse behind a soldier. The Nazarenes went to their\nhouses\u2014among them Rabbi Joseph and his apprentice.\n\nAnd so, for the first time, Judah and the son of Mary met and parted.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK THIRD\n\n\n\u201cCleopatra.... Our size of sorrow,\nProportion\u2019d to our cause, must be as great\nAs that which makes it.\u2014\n          Enter, below, DIOMEDES.\n                    How now? is he dead?\n\nDiomedes. His death\u2019s upon him, but not dead.\u201d\n          Antony and Cleopatra (act iv., sc. xiii.).\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe city of Misenum gave name to the promontory which it crowned, a few\nmiles southwest of Naples. An account of ruins is all that remains of\nit now; yet in the year of our Lord 24\u2014to which it is desirable to\nadvance the reader\u2014the place was one of the most important on the\nwestern coast of Italy.[1]\n\n[1] The Roman government, it will be remembered, had two harbors in\nwhich great fleets were constantly kept\u2014Ravenna and Misenum.\n\n\nIn the year mentioned, a traveller coming to the promontory to regale\nhimself with the view there offered, would have mounted a wall, and,\nwith the city at his back, looked over the bay of Neapolis, as charming\nthen as now; and then, as now, he would have seen the matchless shore,\nthe smoking cone, the sky and waves so softly, deeply blue, Ischia here\nand Capri yonder; from one to the other and back again, through the\npurpled air, his gaze would have sported; at last\u2014for the eyes do weary\nof the beautiful as the palate with sweets\u2014at last it would have\ndropped upon a spectacle which the modern tourist cannot see\u2014half the\nreserve navy of Rome astir or at anchor below him. Thus regarded,\nMisenum was a very proper place for three masters to meet, and at\nleisure parcel the world among them.\n\nIn the old time, moreover, there was a gateway in the wall at a certain\npoint fronting the sea\u2014an empty gateway forming the outlet of a street\nwhich, after the exit, stretched itself, in the form of a broad mole,\nout many stadia into the waves.\n\nThe watchman on the wall above the gateway was disturbed, one cool\nSeptember morning, by a party coming down the street in noisy\nconversation. He gave one look, then settled into his drowse again.\n\nThere were twenty or thirty persons in the party, of whom the greater\nnumber were slaves with torches, which flamed little and smoked much,\nleaving on the air the perfume of the Indian nard. The masters walked\nin advance arm-in-arm. One of them, apparently fifty years old,\nslightly bald, and wearing over his scant locks a crown of laurel,\nseemed, from the attentions paid him, the central object of some\naffectionate ceremony. They all sported ample togas of white wool\nbroadly bordered with purple. A glance had sufficed the watchman. He\nknew, without question, they were of high rank, and escorting a friend\nto ship after a night of festivity. Further explanation will be found\nin the conversation they carried on.\n\n\u201cNo, my Quintus,\u201d said one, speaking to him with the crown, \u201cit is ill\nof Fortune to take thee from us so soon. Only yesterday thou didst\nreturn from the seas beyond the Pillars. Why, thou hast not even got\nback thy land legs.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy Castor! if a man may swear a woman\u2019s oath,\u201d said another, somewhat\nworse of wine, \u201clet us not lament. Our Quintus is but going to find\nwhat he lost last night. Dice on a rolling ship is not dice on\nshore\u2014eh, Quintus?\u201d\n\n\u201cAbuse not Fortune!\u201d exclaimed a third. \u201cShe is not blind or fickle. At\nAntium, where our Arrius questions her, she answers him with nods, and\nat sea she abides with him holding the rudder. She takes him from us,\nbut does she not always give him back with a new victory?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Greeks are taking him away,\u201d another broke in. \u201cLet us abuse them,\nnot the gods. In learning to trade they forgot how to fight.\u201d\n\nWith these words, the party passed the gateway, and came upon the mole,\nwith the bay before them beautiful in the morning light. To the veteran\nsailor the plash of the waves was like a greeting. He drew a long\nbreath, as if the perfume of the water were sweeter than that of the\nnard, and held his hand aloft.\n\n\u201cMy gifts were at Praeneste, not Antium\u2014and see! Wind from the west.\nThanks, O Fortune, my mother!\u201d he said, earnestly.\n\nThe friends all repeated the exclamation, and the slaves waved their\ntorches.\n\n\u201cShe comes\u2014yonder!\u201d he continued, pointing to a galley outside the\nmole. \u201cWhat need has a sailor for other mistress? Is your Lucrece more\ngraceful, my Caius?\u201d\n\nHe gazed at the coming ship, and justified his pride. A white sail was\nbent to the low mast, and the oars dipped, arose, poised a moment, then\ndipped again, with wing-like action, and in perfect time.\n\n\u201cYes, spare the gods,\u201d he said, soberly, his eyes fixed upon the\nvessel. \u201cThey send us opportunities. Ours the fault if we fail. And as\nfor the Greeks, you forget, O my Lentulus, the pirates I am going to\npunish are Greeks. One victory over them is of more account than a\nhundred over the Africans.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen thy way is to the Aegean?\u201d\n\nThe sailor\u2019s eyes were full of his ship.\n\n\u201cWhat grace, what freedom! A bird hath not less care for the fretting\nof the waves. See!\u201d he said, but almost immediately added, \u201cThy pardon,\nmy Lentulus. I am going to the Aegean; and as my departure is so near,\nI will tell the occasion\u2014only keep it under the rose. I would not that\nyou abuse the duumvir when next you meet him. He is my friend. The\ntrade between Greece and Alexandria, as ye may have heard, is hardly\ninferior to that between Alexandria and Rome. The people in that part\nof the world forgot to celebrate the Cerealia, and Triptolemus paid\nthem with a harvest not worth the gathering. At all events, the trade\nis so grown that it will not brook interruption a day. Ye may also have\nheard of the Chersonesan pirates, nested up in the Euxine; none bolder,\nby the Bacchae! Yesterday word came to Rome that, with a fleet, they\nhad rowed down the Bosphorus, sunk the galleys off Byzantium and\nChalcedon, swept the Propontis, and, still unsated, burst through into\nthe Aegean. The corn-merchants who have ships in the East Mediterranean\nare frightened. They had audience with the Emperor himself, and from\nRavenna there go to-day a hundred galleys, and from Misenum\u201d\u2014he paused\nas if to pique the curiosity of his friends, and ended with an\nemphatic\u2014\u201cone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHappy Quintus! We congratulate thee!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe preferment forerunneth promotion. We salute thee duumvir; nothing\nless.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuintus Arrius, the duumvir, hath a better sound than Quintus Arrius,\nthe tribune.\u201d\n\nIn such manner they showered him with congratulations.\n\n\u201cI am glad with the rest,\u201d said the bibulous friend, \u201cvery glad; but I\nmust be practical, O my duumvir; and not until I know if promotion will\nhelp thee to knowledge of the tesserae will I have an opinion as to\nwhether the gods mean thee ill or good in this\u2014this business.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, many thanks!\u201d Arrius replied, speaking to them collectively.\n\u201cHad ye but lanterns, I would say ye were augurs. Perpol! I will go\nfurther, and show what master diviners ye are! See\u2014and read.\u201d\n\nFrom the folds of his toga he drew a roll of paper, and passed it to\nthem, saying, \u201cReceived while at table last night from\u2014Sejanus.\u201d\n\nThe name was already a great one in the Roman world; great, and not so\ninfamous as it afterwards became.\n\n\u201cSejanus!\u201d they exclaimed, with one voice, closing in to read what the\nminister had written.\n\n\u201cSejanus to C. Caecilius Rufus, Duumvir.\n\n\u201cROME, XIX. Kal. Sept.\n\n\u201cC\u00e6sar hath good report of Quintus Arrius, the tribune. In particular\nhe hath heard of his valor, manifested in the western seas, insomuch\nthat it is his will that the said Quintus be transferred instantly to\nthe East.\n\n\u201cIt is our C\u00e6sar\u2019s will, further, that you cause a hundred triremes,\nof the first class, and full appointment, to be despatched without\ndelay against the pirates who have appeared in the Aegean, and that\nQuintus be sent to command the fleet so despatched.\n\n\u201cDetails are thine, my Caecilius.\n\n\u201cThe necessity is urgent, as thou will be advised by the reports\nenclosed for thy perusal and the information of the said Quintus.\n\n\u201cSEJANUS.\u201d\n\nArrius gave little heed to the reading. As the ship drew more plainly\nout of the perspective, she became more and more an attraction to him.\nThe look with which he watched her was that of an enthusiast. At length\nhe tossed the loosened folds of his toga in the air; in reply to the\nsignal, over the aplustre, or fan-like fixture at the stern of the\nvessel, a scarlet flag was displayed; while several sailors appeared\nupon the bulwarks, and swung themselves hand over hand up the ropes to\nthe antenna, or yard, and furled the sail. The bow was put round, and\nthe time of the oars increased one half; so that at racing speed she\nbore down directly towards him and his friends. He observed the\nmanoeuvring with a perceptible brightening of the eyes. Her instant\nanswer to the rudder, and the steadiness with which she kept her\ncourse, were especially noticeable as virtues to be relied upon in\naction.\n\n\u201cBy the Nymphae!\u201d said one of the friends, giving back the roll, \u201cwe\nmay not longer say our friend will be great; he is already great. Our\nlove will now have famous things to feed upon. What more hast thou for\nus?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing more,\u201d Arrius replied. \u201cWhat ye have of the affair is by this\ntime old news in Rome, especially between the palace and the Forum. The\nduumvir is discreet; what I am to do, where go to find my fleet, he\nwill tell on the ship, where a sealed package is waiting me. If,\nhowever, ye have offerings for any of the altars to-day, pray the gods\nfor a friend plying oar and sail somewhere in the direction of Sicily.\nBut she is here, and will come to,\u201d he said, reverting to the vessel.\n\u201cI have interest in her masters; they will sail and fight with me. It\nis not an easy thing to lay ship side on a shore like this; so let us\njudge their training and skill.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, is she new to thee?\u201d\n\n\u201cI never saw her before; and, as yet, I know not if she will bring me\none acquaintance.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that well?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt matters but little. We of the sea come to know each other quickly;\nour loves, like our hates, are born of sudden dangers.\u201d\n\nThe vessel was of the class called naves liburnicae\u2014long, narrow, low\nin the water, and modelled for speed and quick manoeuvre. The bow was\nbeautiful. A jet of water spun from its foot as she came on, sprinkling\nall the prow, which rose in graceful curvature twice a man\u2019s stature\nabove the plane of the deck. Upon the bending of the sides were figures\nof Triton blowing shells. Below the bow, fixed to the keel, and\nprojecting forward under the water-line, was the rostrum, or beak, a\ndevice of solid wood, reinforced and armed with iron, in action used as\na ram. A stout molding extended from the bow the full length of the\nship\u2019s sides, defining the bulwarks, which were tastefully crenelated;\nbelow the molding, in three rows, each covered with a cap or shield of\nbull-hide, were the holes in which the oars were worked\u2014sixty on the\nright, sixty on the left. In further ornamentation, caducei leaned\nagainst the lofty prow. Two immense ropes passing across the bow marked\nthe number of anchors stowed on the foredeck.\n\nThe simplicity of the upper works declared the oars the chief\ndependence of the crew. A mast, set a little forward of midship, was\nheld by fore and back stays and shrouds fixed to rings on the inner\nside of the bulwarks. The tackle was that required for the management\nof one great square sail and the yard to which it was hung. Above the\nbulwarks the deck was visible.\n\nSave the sailors who had reefed the sail, and yet lingered on the yard,\nbut one man was to be seen by the party on the mole, and he stood by\nthe prow helmeted and with a shield.\n\nThe hundred and twenty oaken blades, kept white and shining by pumice\nand the constant wash of the waves, rose and fell as if operated by the\nsame hand, and drove the galley forward with a speed rivalling that of\na modern steamer.\n\nSo rapidly, and apparently, so rashly, did she come that the landsmen\nof the tribune\u2019s party were alarmed. Suddenly the man by the prow\nraised his hand with a peculiar gesture; whereupon all the oars flew\nup, poised a moment in air, then fell straight down. The water boiled\nand bubbled about them; the galley shook in every timber, and stopped\nas if scared. Another gesture of the hand, and again the oars arose,\nfeathered, and fell; but this time those on the right, dropping towards\nthe stern, pushed forward; while those on the left, dropping towards\nthe bow, pulled backwards. Three times the oars thus pushed and pulled\nagainst each other. Round to the right the ship swung as upon a pivot;\nthen, caught by the wind, she settled gently broadside to the mole.\n\nThe movement brought the stern to view, with all its garniture\u2014Tritons\nlike those at the bow; name in large raised letters; the rudder at the\nside; the elevated platform upon which the helmsman sat, a stately\nfigure in full armor, his hand upon the rudder-rope; and the aplustre,\nhigh, gilt, carved, and bent over the helmsman like a great runcinate\nleaf.\n\nIn the midst of the rounding-to, a trumpet was blown brief and shrill,\nand from the hatchways out poured the marines, all in superb equipment,\nbrazen helms, burnished shields and javelins. While the fighting-men\nthus went to quarters as for action, the sailors proper climbed the\nshrouds and perched themselves along the yard. The officers and\nmusicians took their posts. There was no shouting or needless noise.\nWhen the oars touched the mole, a bridge was sent out from the\nhelmsman\u2019s deck. Then the tribune turned to his party and said, with a\ngravity he had not before shown:\n\n\u201cDuty now, O my friends.\u201d\n\nHe took the chaplet from his head and gave it to the dice-player.\n\n\u201cTake thou the myrtle, O favorite of the tesserae!\u201d he said. \u201cIf I\nreturn, I will seek my sestertii again; if I am not victor, I will not\nreturn. Hang the crown in thy atrium.\u201d\n\nTo the company he opened his arms, and they came one by one and\nreceived his parting embrace.\n\n\u201cThe gods go with thee, O Quintus!\u201d they said.\n\n\u201cFarewell,\u201d he replied.\n\nTo the slaves waving their torches he waved his hand; then he turned to\nthe waiting ship, beautiful with ordered ranks and crested helms, and\nshields and javelins. As he stepped upon the bridge, the trumpets\nsounded, and over the aplustre rose the vexillum purpureum, or pennant\nof a commander of a fleet.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nThe tribune, standing upon the helmsman\u2019s deck with the order of the\nduumvir open in his hand, spoke to the chief of the rowers.[1]\n\n[1] Called hortator.\n\n\n\u201cWhat force hast thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf oarsmen, two hundred and fifty-two; ten supernumeraries.\n\n\u201cMaking reliefs of\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cEighty-four.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd thy habit?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has been to take off and put on every two hours.\u201d\n\nThe tribune mused a moment.\n\n\u201cThe division is hard, and I will reform it, but not now. The oars may\nnot rest day or night.\u201d\n\nThen to the sailing-master he said,\n\n\u201cThe wind is fair. Let the sail help the oars.\u201d\n\nWhen the two thus addressed were gone, he turned to the chief pilot.[2]\n\n[2] Called rector.\n\n\n\u201cWhat service hast thou had?\u201d\n\n\u201cTwo-and-thirty years.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what seas chiefly?\u201d\n\n\u201cBetween our Rome and the East.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou art the man I would have chosen.\u201d\n\nThe tribune looked at his orders again.\n\n\u201cPast the Camponellan cape, the course will be to Messina. Beyond that,\nfollow the bend of the Calabrian shore till Melito is on thy left,\nthen\u2014 Knowest thou the stars that govern in the Ionian Sea?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know them well.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen from Melito course eastward for Cythera. The gods willing, I will\nnot anchor until in the Bay of Antemona. The duty is urgent. I rely\nupon thee.\u201d\n\nA prudent man was Arrius\u2014prudent, and of the class which, while\nenriching the altars at Praeneste and Antium, was of opinion,\nnevertheless, that the favor of the blind goddess depended more upon\nthe votary\u2019s care and judgment than upon his gifts and vows. All night\nas master of the feast he had sat at table drinking and playing; yet\nthe odor of the sea returned him to the mood of the sailor, and he\nwould not rest until he knew his ship. Knowledge leaves no room for\nchances. Having begun with the chief of the rowers, the sailing-master,\nand the pilot, in company with the other officers\u2014the commander of the\nmarines, the keeper of the stores, the master of the machines, the\noverseer of the kitchen or fires\u2014he passed through the several\nquarters. Nothing escaped his inspection. When he was through, of the\ncommunity crowded within the narrow walls he alone knew perfectly all\nthere was of material preparation for the voyage and its possible\nincidents; and, finding the preparation complete, there was left him\nbut one thing further\u2014thorough knowledge of the personnel of his\ncommand. As this was the most delicate and difficult part of his task,\nrequiring much time, he set about it his own way.\n\nAt noon that day the galley was skimming the sea off Paestum. The wind\nwas yet from the west, filling the sail to the master\u2019s content. The\nwatches had been established. On the foredeck the altar had been set\nand sprinkled with salt and barley, and before it the tribune had\noffered solemn prayers to Jove and to Neptune and all the Oceanid\u00e6,\nand, with vows, poured the wine and burned the incense. And now, the\nbetter to study his men, he was seated in the great cabin, a very\nmartial figure.\n\nThe cabin, it should be stated, was the central compartment of the\ngalley, in extent quite sixty-five by thirty feet, and lighted by three\nbroad hatchways. A row of stanchions ran from end to end, supporting\nthe roof, and near the centre the mast was visible, all bristling with\naxes and spears and javelins. To each hatchway there were double stairs\ndescending right and left, with a pivotal arrangement at the top to\nallow the lower ends to be hitched to the ceiling; and, as these were\nnow raised, the compartment had the appearance of a skylighted hall.\n\nThe reader will understand readily that this was the heart of the ship,\nthe home of all aboard\u2014eating-room, sleeping-chamber, field of\nexercise, lounging-place off duty\u2014uses made possible by the laws which\nreduced life there to minute details and a routine relentless as death.\n\nAt the after-end of the cabin there was a platform, reached by several\nsteps. Upon it the chief of the rowers sat; in front of him a\nsounding-table, upon which, with a gavel, he beat time for the oarsmen;\nat his right a clepsydra, or water-clock, to measure the reliefs and\nwatches. Above him, on a higher platform, well guarded by gilded\nrailing, the tribune had his quarters, overlooking everything, and\nfurnished with a couch, a table, and a cathedra, or chair, cushioned,\nand with arms and high back\u2014articles which the imperial dispensation\npermitted of the utmost elegance.\n\nThus at ease, lounging in the great chair, swaying with the motion of\nthe vessel, the military cloak half draping his tunic, sword in belt,\nArrius kept watchful eye over his command, and was as closely watched\nby them. He saw critically everything in view, but dwelt longest upon\nthe rowers. The reader would doubtless have done the same: only he\nwould have looked with much sympathy, while, as is the habit with\nmasters, the tribune\u2019s mind ran forward of what he saw, inquiring for\nresults.\n\nThe spectacle was simple enough of itself. Along the sides of the\ncabin, fixed to the ship\u2019s timbers, were what at first appeared to be\nthree rows of benches; a closer view, however, showed them a succession\nof rising banks, in each of which the second bench was behind and above\nthe first one, and the third above and behind the second. To\naccommodate the sixty rowers on a side, the space devoted to them\npermitted nineteen banks separated by intervals of one yard, with a\ntwentieth bank divided so that what would have been its upper seat or\nbench was directly above the lower seat of the first bank. The\narrangement gave each rower when at work ample room, if he timed his\nmovements with those of his associates, the principle being that of\nsoldiers marching with cadenced step in close order. The arrangement\nalso allowed a multiplication of banks, limited only by the length of\nthe galley.\n\nAs to the rowers, those upon the first and second benches sat, while\nthose upon the third, having longer oars to work, were suffered to\nstand. The oars were loaded with lead in the handles, and near the\npoint of balance hung to pliable thongs, making possible the delicate\ntouch called feathering, but, at the same time, increasing the need of\nskill, since an eccentric wave might at any moment catch a heedless\nfellow and hurl him from his seat. Each oar-hole was a vent through\nwhich the laborer opposite it had his plenty of sweet air. Light\nstreamed down upon him from the grating which formed the floor of the\npassage between the deck and the bulwark over his head. In some\nrespects, therefore, the condition of the men might have been much\nworse. Still, it must not be imagined that there was any pleasantness\nin their lives. Communication between them was not allowed. Day after\nday they filled their places without speech; in hours of labor they\ncould not see each other\u2019s faces; their short respites were given to\nsleep and the snatching of food. They never laughed; no one ever heard\none of them sing. What is the use of tongues when a sigh or a groan\nwill tell all men feel while, perforce, they think in silence?\nExistence with the poor wretches was like a stream under ground\nsweeping slowly, laboriously on to its outlet, wherever that might\nchance to be.\n\nO Son of Mary! The sword has now a heart\u2014and thine the glory! So now;\nbut, in the days of which we are writing, for captivity there was\ndrudgery on walls, and in the streets and mines, and the galleys both\nof war and commerce were insatiable. When Druilius won the first\nsea-fight for his country, Romans plied the oars, and the glory was to\nthe rower not less than the marine. These benches which now we are\ntrying to see as they were testified to the change come with conquest,\nand illustrated both the policy and the prowess of Rome. Nearly all the\nnations had sons there, mostly prisoners of war, chosen for their brawn\nand endurance. In one place a Briton; before him a Libyan; behind him a\nCrimean. Elsewhere a Scythian, a Gaul, and a Thebasite. Roman convicts\ncast down to consort with Goths and Longobardi, Jews, Ethiopians, and\nbarbarians from the shores of Maeotis. Here an Athenian, there a\nred-haired savage from Hibernia, yonder blue-eyed giants of the Cimbri.\n\nIn the labor of the rowers there was not enough art to give occupation\nto their minds, rude and simple as they were. The reach forward, the\npull, the feathering the blade, the dip, were all there was of it;\nmotions most perfect when most automatic. Even the care forced upon\nthem by the sea outside grew in time to be a thing instinctive rather\nthan of thought. So, as the result of long service, the poor wretches\nbecame imbruted\u2014patient, spiritless, obedient\u2014creatures of vast muscle\nand exhausted intellects, who lived upon recollections generally few\nbut dear, and at last lowered into the semi-conscious alchemic state\nwherein misery turns to habit, and the soul takes on incredible\nendurance.\n\nFrom right to left, hour after hour, the tribune, swaying in his\neasy-chair, turned with thought of everything rather than the\nwretchedness of the slaves upon the benches. Their motions, precise,\nand exactly the same on both sides of the vessel, after a while became\nmonotonous; and then he amused himself singling out individuals. With\nhis stylus he made note of objections, thinking, if all went well, he\nwould find among the pirates of whom he was in search better men for\nthe places.\n\nThere was no need of keeping the proper names of the slaves brought to\nthe galleys as to their graves; so, for convenience, they were usually\nidentified by the numerals painted upon the benches to which they were\nassigned. As the sharp eyes of the great man moved from seat to seat on\neither hand, they came at last to number sixty, which, as has been\nsaid, belonged properly to the last bank on the left-hand side, but,\nwanting room aft, had been fixed above the first bench of the first\nbank. There they rested.\n\nThe bench of number sixty was slightly above the level of the platform,\nand but a few feet away. The light glinting through the grating over\nhis head gave the rower fairly to the tribune\u2019s view\u2014erect, and, like\nall his fellows, naked, except a cincture about the loins. There were,\nhowever, some points in his favor. He was very young, not more than\ntwenty. Furthermore, Arrius was not merely given to dice; he was a\nconnoisseur of men physically, and when ashore indulged a habit of\nvisiting the gymnasia to see and admire the most famous athletae. From\nsome professor, doubtless, he had caught the idea that strength was as\nmuch of the quality as the quantity of the muscle, while superiority in\nperformance required a certain mind as well as strength. Having adopted\nthe doctrine, like most men with a hobby, he was always looking for\nillustrations to support it.\n\nThe reader may well believe that while the tribune, in the search for\nthe perfect, was often called upon to stop and study, he was seldom\nperfectly satisfied\u2014in fact, very seldom held as long as on this\noccasion.\n\nIn the beginning of each movement of the oar, the rower\u2019s body and face\nwere brought into profile view from the platform; the movement ended\nwith the body reversed, and in a pushing posture. The grace and ease of\nthe action at first suggested a doubt of the honesty of the effort put\nforth; but it was speedily dismissed; the firmness with which the oar\nwas held while in the reach forward, its bending under the push, were\nproofs of the force applied; not that only, they as certainly proved\nthe rower\u2019s art, and put the critic in the great arm-chair in search of\nthe combination of strength and cleverness which was the central idea\nof his theory.\n\nIn course of the study, Arrius observed the subject\u2019s youth; wholly\nunconscious of tenderness on that account, he also observed that he\nseemed of good height, and that his limbs, upper and nether, were\nsingularly perfect. The arms, perhaps, were too long, but the objection\nwas well hidden under a mass of muscle, which, in some movements,\nswelled and knotted like kinking cords. Every rib in the round body was\ndiscernible; yet the leanness was the healthful reduction so strained\nafter in the palaestrae. And altogether there was in the rower\u2019s action\na certain harmony which, besides addressing itself to the tribune\u2019s\ntheory, stimulated both his curiosity and general interest.\n\nVery soon he found himself waiting to catch a view of the man\u2019s face in\nfull. The head was shapely, and balanced upon a neck broad at the base,\nbut of exceeding pliancy and grace. The features in profile were of\nOriental outline, and of that delicacy of expression which has always\nbeen thought a sign of blood and sensitive spirit. With these\nobservations, the tribune\u2019s interest in the subject deepened.\n\n\u201cBy the gods,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthe fellow impresses me! He\npromises well. I will know more of him.\u201d\n\nDirectly the tribune caught the view he wished\u2014the rower turned and\nlooked at him.\n\n\u201cA Jew! and a boy!\u201d\n\nUnder the gaze then fixed steadily upon him, the large eyes of the\nslave grew larger\u2014the blood surged to his very brows\u2014the blade lingered\nin his hands. But instantly, with an angry crash, down fell the gavel\nof the hortator. The rower started, withdrew his face from the\ninquisitor, and, as if personally chidden, dropped the oar half\nfeathered. When he glanced again at the tribune, he was vastly more\nastonished\u2014he was met with a kindly smile.\n\nMeantime the galley entered the Straits of Messina, and, skimming past\nthe city of that name, was after a while turned eastward, leaving the\ncloud over \u00c6tna in the sky astern.\n\nOften as Arrius resumed to his platform in the cabin he returned to\nstudy the rower, and he kept saying to himself, \u201cThe fellow hath a\nspirit. A Jew is not a barbarian. I will know more of him.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nThe fourth day out, and the Astroea\u2014so the galley was named\u2014speeding\nthrough the Ionian Sea. The sky was clear, and the wind blew as if\nbearing the good-will of all the gods.\n\nAs it was possible to overtake the fleet before reaching the bay east\nof the island of Cythera, designated for assemblage, Arrius, somewhat\nimpatient, spent much time on deck. He took note diligently of matters\npertaining to his ship, and as a rule was well pleased. In the cabin,\nswinging in the great chair, his thought continually reverted to the\nrower on number sixty.\n\n\u201cKnowest thou the man just come from yon bench?\u201d he at length asked of\nthe hortator.\n\nA relief was going on at the moment.\n\n\u201cFrom number sixty?\u201d returned the chief.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nThe chief looked sharply at the rower then going forward.\n\n\u201cAs thou knowest,\u201d he replied \u201cthe ship is but a month from the maker\u2019s\nhand, and the men are as new to me as the ship.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a Jew,\u201d Arrius remarked, thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cThe noble Quintus is shrewd.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is very young,\u201d Arrius continued.\n\n\u201cBut our best rower,\u201d said the other. \u201cI have seen his oar bend almost\nto breaking.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf what disposition is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is obedient; further I know not. Once he made request of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor what?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wished me to change him alternately from the right to the left.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid he give a reason?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe had observed that the men who are confined to one side become\nmisshapen. He also said that some day of storm or battle there might be\nsudden need to change him, and he might then be unserviceable.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerpol! The idea is new. What else hast thou observed of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is cleanly above his companions.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that he is Roman,\u201d said Arrius, approvingly. \u201cHave you nothing of\nhis history?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a word.\u201d\n\nThe tribune reflected awhile, and turned to go to his own seat.\n\n\u201cIf I should be on deck when his time is up,\u201d he paused to say, \u201csend\nhim to me. Let him come alone.\u201d\n\nAbout two hours later Arrius stood under the aplustre of the galley; in\nthe mood of one who, seeing himself carried swiftly towards an event of\nmighty import, has nothing to do but wait\u2014the mood in which philosophy\nvests an even-minded man with the utmost calm, and is ever so\nserviceable. The pilot sat with a hand upon the rope by which the\nrudder paddles, one on each side of the vessel, were managed. In the\nshade of the sail some sailors lay asleep, and up on the yard there was\na lookout. Lifting his eyes from the solarium set under the aplustre\nfor reference in keeping the course, Arrius beheld the rower\napproaching.\n\n\u201cThe chief called thee the noble Arrius, and said it was thy will that\nI should seek thee here. I have come.\u201d\n\nArrius surveyed the figure, tall, sinewy, glistening in the sun, and\ntinted by the rich red blood within\u2014surveyed it admiringly, and with a\nthought of the arena; yet the manner was not without effect upon him:\nthere was in the voice a suggestion of life at least partly spent under\nrefining influences; the eyes were clear and open, and more curious\nthan defiant. To the shrewd, demanding, masterful glance bent upon it,\nthe face gave back nothing to mar its youthful comeliness\u2014nothing of\naccusation or sullenness or menace, only the signs which a great sorrow\nlong borne imprints, as time mellows the surface of pictures. In tacit\nacknowledgment of the effect, the Roman spoke as an older man to a\nyounger, not as a master to a slave.\n\n\u201cThe hortator tells me thou art his best rower.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe hortator is very kind,\u201d the rower answered.\n\n\u201cHast thou seen much service?\u201d\n\n\u201cAbout three years.\u201d\n\n\u201cAt the oars?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot recall a day of rest from them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe labor is hard; few men bear it a year without breaking, and\nthou\u2014thou art but a boy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe noble Arrius forgets that the spirit hath much to do with\nendurance. By its help the weak sometimes thrive, when the strong\nperish.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom thy speech, thou art a Jew.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy ancestors further back than the first Roman were Hebrews.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe stubborn pride of thy race is not lost in thee,\u201d said Arrius,\nobserving a flush upon the rower\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cPride is never so loud as when in chains.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat cause hast thou for pride?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I am a Jew.\u201d\n\nArrius smiled.\n\n\u201cI have not been to Jerusalem,\u201d he said; \u201cbut I have heard of its\nprinces. I knew one of them. He was a merchant, and sailed the seas. He\nwas fit to have been a king. Of what degree art thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI must answer thee from the bench of a galley. I am of the degree of\nslaves. My father was a prince of Jerusalem, and, as a merchant, he\nsailed the seas. He was known and honored in the guest-chamber of the\ngreat Augustus.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis name?\u201d\n\n\u201cIthamar, of the house of Hur.\u201d\n\nThe tribune raised his hand in astonishment.\n\n\u201cA son of Hur\u2014thou?\u201d\n\nAfter a silence, he asked,\n\n\u201cWhat brought thee here?\u201d\n\nJudah lowered his head, and his breast labored hard. When his feelings\nwere sufficiently mastered, he looked the tribune in the face, and\nanswered,\n\n\u201cI was accused of attempting to assassinate Valerius Gratus, the\nprocurator.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou!\u201d cried Arrius, yet more amazed, and retreating a step. \u201cThou\nthat assassin! All Rome rang with the story. It came to my ship in the\nriver by Lodinum.\u201d\n\nThe two regarded each other silently.\n\n\u201cI thought the family of Hur blotted from the earth,\u201d said Arrius,\nspeaking first.\n\nA flood of tender recollections carried the young man\u2019s pride away;\ntears shone upon his cheeks.\n\n\u201cMother\u2014mother! And my little Tirzah! Where are they? O tribune, noble\ntribune, if thou knowest anything of them\u201d\u2014he clasped his hands in\nappeal\u2014\u201ctell me all thou knowest. Tell me if they are living\u2014if living,\nwhere are they? and in what condition? Oh, I pray thee, tell me!\u201d\n\nHe drew nearer Arrius, so near that his hands touched the cloak where\nit dropped from the latter\u2019s folded arms.\n\n\u201cThe horrible day is three years gone,\u201d he continued\u2014\u201cthree years, O\ntribune, and every hour a whole lifetime of misery\u2014a lifetime in a\nbottomless pit with death, and no relief but in labor\u2014and in all that\ntime not a word from any one, not a whisper. Oh, if, in being\nforgotten, we could only forget! If only I could hide from that\nscene\u2014my sister torn from me, my mother\u2019s last look! I have felt the\nplague\u2019s breath, and the shock of ships in battle; I have heard the\ntempest lashing the sea, and laughed, though others prayed: death would\nhave been a riddance. Bend the oar\u2014yes, in the strain of mighty effort\ntrying to escape the haunting of what that day occurred. Think what\nlittle will help me. Tell me they are dead, if no more, for happy they\ncannot be while I am lost. I have heard them call me in the night; I\nhave seen them on the water walking. Oh, never anything so true as my\nmother\u2019s love! And Tirzah\u2014her breath was as the breath of white lilies.\nShe was the youngest branch of the palm\u2014so fresh, so tender, so\ngraceful, so beautiful! She made my day all morning. She came and went\nin music. And mine was the hand that laid them low! I\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cDost thou admit thy guilt?\u201d asked Arrius, sternly.\n\nThe change that came upon Ben-Hur was wonderful to see, it was so\ninstant and extreme. The voice sharpened; the hands arose\ntight-clenched; every fibre thrilled; his eyes inflamed.\n\n\u201cThou hast heard of the God of my fathers,\u201d he said; \u201cof the infinite\nJehovah. By his truth and almightiness, and by the love with which he\nhath followed Israel from the beginning, I swear I am innocent!\u201d\n\nThe tribune was much moved.\n\n\u201cO noble Roman!\u201d continued Ben-Hur, \u201cgive me a little faith, and, into\nmy darkness, deeper darkening every day, send a light!\u201d\n\nArrius turned away, and walked the deck.\n\n\u201cDidst thou not have a trial?\u201d he asked, stopping suddenly.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n\nThe Roman raised his head, surprised.\n\n\u201cNo trial\u2014no witnesses! Who passed judgment upon thee?\u201d\n\nRomans, it should be remembered, were at no time such lovers of the law\nand its forms as in the ages of their decay.\n\n\u201cThey bound me with cords, and dragged me to a vault in the Tower. I\nsaw no one. No one spoke to me. Next day soldiers took me to the\nseaside. I have been a galley-slave ever since.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat couldst thou have proven?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was a boy, too young to be a conspirator. Gratus was a stranger to\nme. If I had meant to kill him, that was not the time or the place. He\nwas riding in the midst of a legion, and it was broad day. I could not\nhave escaped. I was of a class most friendly to Rome. My father had\nbeen distinguished for his services to the emperor. We had a great\nestate to lose. Ruin was certain to myself, my mother, my sister. I had\nno cause for malice, while every consideration\u2014property, family, life,\nconscience, the Law\u2014to a son of Israel as the breath of his\nnostrils\u2014would have stayed my hand, though the foul intent had been\never so strong. I was not mad. Death was preferable to shame; and,\nbelieve me, I pray, it is so yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho was with thee when the blow was struck?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was on the house-top\u2014my father\u2019s house. Tirzah was with me\u2014at my\nside\u2014the soul of gentleness. Together we leaned over the parapet to see\nthe legion pass. A tile gave way under my hand, and fell upon Gratus. I\nthought I had killed him. Ah, what horror I felt!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere was thy mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn her chamber below.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat became of her?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur clenched his hands, and drew a breath like a gasp.\n\n\u201cI do not know. I saw them drag her away\u2014that is all I know. Out of the\nhouse they drove every living thing, even the dumb cattle, and they\nsealed the gates. The purpose was that she should not return. I, too,\nask for her. Oh for one word! She, at least, was innocent. I can\nforgive\u2014but I pray thy pardon, noble tribune! A slave like me should\nnot talk of forgiveness or of revenge. I am bound to an oar for life.\u201d\n\nArrius listened intently. He brought all his experience with slaves to\nhis aid. If the feeling shown in this instance were assumed, the acting\nwas perfect; on the other hand, if it were real, the Jew\u2019s innocence\nmight not be doubted; and if he were innocent, with what blind fury the\npower had been exercised! A whole family blotted out to atone an\naccident! The thought shocked him.\n\nThere is no wiser providence than that our occupations, however rude or\nbloody, cannot wear us out morally; that such qualities as justice and\nmercy, if they really possess us, continue to live on under them, like\nflowers under the snow. The tribune could be inexorable, else he had\nnot been fit for the usages of his calling; he could also be just; and\nto excite his sense of wrong was to put him in the way to right the\nwrong. The crews of the ships in which he served came after a time to\nspeak of him as the good tribune. Shrewd readers will not want a better\ndefinition of his character.\n\nIn this instance there were many circumstances certainly in the young\nman\u2019s favor, and some to be supposed. Possibly Arrius knew Valerius\nGratus without loving him. Possibly he had known the elder Hur. In the\ncourse of his appeal, Judah had asked him of that; and, as will be\nnoticed, he had made no reply.\n\nFor once the tribune was at loss, and hesitated. His power was ample.\nHe was monarch of the ship. His prepossessions all moved him to mercy.\nHis faith was won. Yet, he said to himself, there was no haste\u2014or,\nrather, there was haste to Cythera; the best rower could not then be\nspared; he would wait; he would learn more; he would at least be sure\nthis was the prince Ben-Hur, and that he was of a right disposition.\nOrdinarily, slaves were liars.\n\n\u201cIt is enough,\u201d he said aloud. \u201cGo back to thy place.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur bowed; looked once more into the master\u2019s face, but saw nothing\nfor hope. He turned away slowly, looked back, and said,\n\n\u201cIf thou dost think of me again, O tribune, let it not be lost in thy\nmind that I prayed thee only for word of my people\u2014mother, sister.\u201d\n\nHe moved on.\n\nArrius followed him with admiring eyes.\n\n\u201cPerpol!\u201d he thought. \u201cWith teaching, what a man for the arena! What a\nrunner! Ye gods! what an arm for the sword or the cestus!\u2014Stay!\u201d he\nsaid aloud.\n\nBen-Hur stopped, and the tribune went to him.\n\n\u201cIf thou wert free, what wouldst thou do?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe noble Arrius mocks me!\u201d Judah said, with trembling lips.\n\n\u201cNo; by the gods, no!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I will answer gladly. I would give myself to duty the first of\nlife. I would know no other. I would know no rest until my mother and\nTirzah were restored to home. I would give every day and hour to their\nhappiness. I would wait upon them; never a slave more faithful. They\nhave lost much, but, by the God of my fathers, I would find them more!\u201d\n\nThe answer was unexpected by the Roman. For a moment he lost his\npurpose.\n\n\u201cI spoke to thy ambition,\u201d he said, recovering. \u201cIf thy mother and\nsister were dead, or not to be found, what wouldst thou do?\u201d\n\nA distinct pallor overspread Ben-Hur\u2019s face, and he looked over the\nsea. There was a struggle with some strong feeling; when it was\nconquered, he turned to the tribune.\n\n\u201cWhat pursuit would I follow?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cTribune, I will tell thee truly. Only the night before the dreadful\nday of which I have spoken, I obtained permission to be a soldier. I am\nof the same mind yet; and, as in all the earth there is but one school\nof war, thither I would go.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe palaestra!\u201d exclaimed Arrius.\n\n\u201cNo; a Roman camp.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut thou must first acquaint thyself with the use of arms.\u201d\n\nNow a master may never safely advise a slave. Arrius saw his\nindiscretion, and, in a breath, chilled his voice and manner.\n\n\u201cGo now,\u201d he said, \u201cand do not build upon what has passed between us.\nPerhaps I do but play with thee. Or\u201d\u2014he looked away musingly\u2014\u201cor, if\nthou dost think of it with any hope, choose between the renown of a\ngladiator and the service of a soldier. The former may come of the\nfavor of the emperor; there is no reward for thee in the latter. Thou\nart not a Roman. Go!\u201d\n\nA short while after Ben-Hur was upon his bench again.\n\nA man\u2019s task is always light if his heart is light. Handling the oar\ndid not seem so toilsome to Judah. A hope had come to him, like a\nsinging bird. He could hardly see the visitor or hear its song; that it\nwas there, though, he knew; his feelings told him so. The caution of\nthe tribune\u2014\u201cPerhaps I do but play with thee\u201d\u2014was dismissed often as it\nrecurred to his mind. That he had been called by the great man and\nasked his story was the bread upon which he fed his hungry spirit.\nSurely something good would come of it. The light about his bench was\nclear and bright with promises, and he prayed.\n\n\u201cO God! I am a true son of the Israel thou hast so loved! Help me, I\npray thee!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nIn the Bay of Antemona, east of Cythera the island, the hundred galleys\nassembled. There the tribune gave one day to inspection. He sailed then\nto Naxos, the largest of the Cyclades, midway the coasts of Greece and\nAsia, like a great stone planted in the centre of a highway, from which\nhe could challenge everything that passed; at the same time, he would\nbe in position to go after the pirates instantly, whether they were in\nthe \u00c6gean or out on the Mediterranean.\n\nAs the fleet, in order, rowed in towards the mountain shores of the\nisland, a galley was descried coming from the north. Arrius went to\nmeet it. She proved to be a transport just from Byzantium, and from her\ncommander he learned the particulars of which he stood in most need.\n\nThe pirates were from all the farther shores of the Euxine. Even\nTanais, at the mouth of the river which was supposed to feed Palus\nMaeotis, was represented among them. Their preparations had been with\nthe greatest secrecy. The first known of them was their appearance off\nthe entrance to the Thracian Bosphorus, followed by the destruction of\nthe fleet in station there. Thence to the outlet of the Hellespont\neverything afloat had fallen their prey. There were quite sixty galleys\nin the squadron, all well manned and supplied. A few were biremes, the\nrest stout triremes. A Greek was in command, and the pilots, said to be\nfamiliar with all the Eastern seas, were Greek. The plunder had been\nincalculable. The panic, consequently, was not on the sea alone;\ncities, with closed gates, sent their people nightly to the walls.\nTraffic had almost ceased.\n\nWhere were the pirates now?\n\nTo this question, of most interest to Arrius, he received answer.\n\nAfter sacking Hephaestia, on the island of Lemnos, the enemy had\ncoursed across to the Thessalian group, and, by last account,\ndisappeared in the gulfs between Euboea and Hellas.\n\nSuch were the tidings.\n\nThen the people of the island, drawn to the hill-tops by the rare\nspectacle of a hundred ships careering in united squadron, beheld the\nadvance division suddenly turn to the north, and the others follow,\nwheeling upon the same point like cavalry in a column. News of the\npiratical descent had reached them, and now, watching the white sails\nuntil they faded from sight up between Rhene and Syros, the thoughtful\namong them took comfort, and were grateful. What Rome seized with\nstrong hand she always defended: in return for their taxes, she gave\nthem safety.\n\nThe tribune was more than pleased with the enemy\u2019s movements; he was\ndoubly thankful to Fortune. She had brought swift and sure\nintelligence, and had lured his foes into the waters where, of all\nothers, destruction was most assured. He knew the havoc one galley\ncould play in a broad sea like the Mediterranean, and the difficulty of\nfinding and overhauling her; he knew, also, how those very\ncircumstances would enhance the service and glory if, at one blow, he\ncould put a finish to the whole piratical array.\n\nIf the reader will take a map of Greece and the \u00c6gean, he will notice\nthe island of Euboea lying along the classic coast like a rampart\nagainst Asia, leaving a channel between it and the continent quite a\nhundred and twenty miles in length, and scarcely an average of eight in\nwidth. The inlet on the north had admitted the fleet of Xerxes, and now\nit received the bold raiders from the Euxine. The towns along the\nPelasgic and Meliac gulfs were rich and their plunder seductive. All\nthings considered, therefore, Arrius judged that the robbers might be\nfound somewhere below Thermopylae. Welcoming the chance, he resolved to\nenclose them north and south, to do which not an hour could be lost;\neven the fruits and wines and women of Naxos must be left behind. So he\nsailed away without stop or tack until, a little before nightfall,\nMount Ocha was seen upreared against the sky, and the pilot reported\nthe Euboean coast.\n\nAt a signal the fleet rested upon its oars. When the movement was\nresumed, Arrius led a division of fifty of the galleys, intending to\ntake them up the channel, while another division, equally strong,\nturned their prows to the outer or seaward side of the island, with\norders to make all haste to the upper inlet, and descend sweeping the\nwaters.\n\nTo be sure, neither division was equal in number to the pirates; but\neach had advantages in compensation, among them, by no means least, a\ndiscipline impossible to a lawless horde, however brave. Besides, it\nwas a shrewd count on the tribune\u2019s side, if, peradventure, one should\nbe defeated, the other would find the enemy shattered by his victory,\nand in condition to be easily overwhelmed.\n\nMeantime Ben-Hur kept his bench, relieved every six hours. The rest in\nthe Bay of Antemona had freshened him, so that the oar was not\ntroublesome, and the chief on the platform found no fault.\n\nPeople, generally, are not aware of the ease of mind there is in\nknowing where they are, and where they are going. The sensation of\nbeing lost is a keen distress; still worse is the feeling one has in\ndriving blindly into unknown places. Custom had dulled the feeling with\nBen-Hur, but only measurably. Pulling away hour after hour, sometimes\ndays and nights together, sensible all the time that the galley was\ngliding swiftly along some of the many tracks of the broad sea, the\nlonging to know where he was, and whither going, was always present\nwith him; but now it seemed quickened by the hope which had come to new\nlife in his breast since the interview with the tribune. The narrower\nthe abiding-place happens to be, the more intense is the longing; and\nso he found. He seemed to hear every sound of the ship in labor, and\nlistened to each one as if it were a voice come to tell him something;\nhe looked to the grating overhead, and through it into the light of\nwhich so small a portion was his, expecting, he knew not what; and many\ntimes he caught himself on the point of yielding to the impulse to\nspeak to the chief on the platform, than which no circumstance of\nbattle would have astonished that dignitary more.\n\nIn his long service, by watching the shifting of the meager sunbeams\nupon the cabin floor when the ship was under way, he had come to know,\ngenerally, the quarter into which she was sailing. This, of course, was\nonly of clear days like those good-fortune was sending the tribune. The\nexperience had not failed him in the period succeeding the departure\nfrom Cythera. Thinking they were tending towards the old Judean\ncountry, he was sensitive to every variation from the course. With a\npang, he had observed the sudden change northward which, as has been\nnoticed, took place near Naxos: the cause, however, he could not even\nconjecture; for it must be remembered that, in common with his\nfellow-slaves, he knew nothing of the situation, and had no interest in\nthe voyage. His place was at the oar, and he was held there inexorably,\nwhether at anchor or under sail. Once only in three years had he been\npermitted an outlook from the deck. The occasion we have seen. He had\nno idea that, following the vessel he was helping drive, there was a\ngreat squadron close at hand and in beautiful order; no more did he\nknow the object of which it was in pursuit.\n\nWhen the sun, going down, withdrew his last ray from the cabin, the\ngalley still held northward. Night fell, yet Ben-Hur could discern no\nchange. About that time the smell of incense floated down the gangways\nfrom the deck.\n\n\u201cThe tribune is at the altar,\u201d he thought. \u201cCan it be we are going into\nbattle?\u201d\n\nHe became observant.\n\nNow he had been in many battles without having seen one. From his bench\nhe had heard them above and about him, until he was familiar with all\ntheir notes, almost as a singer with a song. So, too, he had become\nacquainted with many of the preliminaries of an engagement, of which,\nwith a Roman as well as a Greek, the most invariable was the sacrifice\nto the gods. The rites were the same as those performed at the\nbeginning of a voyage, and to him, when noticed, they were always an\nadmonition.\n\nA battle, it should be observed, possessed for him and his\nfellow-slaves of the oar an interest unlike that of the sailor and\nmarine; it came, not of the danger encountered but of the fact that\ndefeat, if survived, might bring an alteration of condition\u2014possibly\nfreedom\u2014at least a change of masters, which might be for the better.\n\nIn good time the lanterns were lighted and hung by the stairs, and the\ntribune came down from the deck. At his word the marines put on their\narmor. At his word again, the machines were looked to, and spears,\njavelins, and arrows, in great sheaves, brought and laid upon the\nfloor, together with jars of inflammable oil, and baskets of cotton\nballs wound loose like the wicking of candles. And when, finally,\nBen-Hur saw the tribune mount his platform and don his armor, and get\nhis helmet and shield out, the meaning of the preparations might not be\nany longer doubted, and he made ready for the last ignominy of his\nservice.\n\nTo every bench, as a fixture, there was a chain with heavy anklets.\nThese the hortator proceeded to lock upon the oarsmen, going from\nnumber to number, leaving no choice but to obey, and, in event of\ndisaster, no possibility of escape.\n\nIn the cabin, then, a silence fell, broken, at first, only by the sough\nof the oars turning in the leathern cases. Every man upon the benches\nfelt the shame, Ben-Hur more keenly than his companions. He would have\nput it away at any price. Soon the clanking of the fetters notified him\nof the progress the chief was making in his round. He would come to him\nin turn; but would not the tribune interpose for him?\n\nThe thought may be set down to vanity or selfishness, as the reader\npleases; it certainly, at that moment, took possession of Ben-Hur. He\nbelieved the Roman would interpose; anyhow, the circumstance would test\nthe man\u2019s feelings. If, intent upon the battle, he would but think of\nhim, it would be proof of his opinion formed\u2014proof that he had been\ntacitly promoted above his associates in misery\u2014such proof as would\njustify hope.\n\nBen-Hur waited anxiously. The interval seemed like an age. At every\nturn of the oar he looked towards the tribune, who, his simple\npreparations made, lay down upon the couch and composed himself to\nrest; whereupon number sixty chid himself, and laughed grimly, and\nresolved not to look that way again.\n\nThe hortator approached. Now he was at number one\u2014the rattle of the\niron links sounded horribly. At last number sixty! Calm from despair,\nBen-Hur held his oar at poise, and gave his foot to the officer. Then\nthe tribune stirred\u2014sat up\u2014beckoned to the chief.\n\nA strong revulsion seized the Jew. From the hortator, the great man\nglanced at him; and when he dropped his oar all the section of the ship\non his side seemed aglow. He heard nothing of what was said; enough\nthat the chain hung idly from its staple in the bench, and that the\nchief, going to his seat, began to beat the sounding-board. The notes\nof the gavel were never so like music. With his breast against the\nleaded handle, he pushed with all his might\u2014pushed until the shaft bent\nas if about to break.\n\nThe chief went to the tribune, and, smiling, pointed to number sixty.\n\n\u201cWhat strength!\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cAnd what spirit!\u201d the tribune answered. \u201cPerpol! He is better without\nthe irons. Put them on him no more.\u201d\n\nSo saying, he stretched himself upon the couch again.\n\nThe ship sailed on hour after hour under the oars in water scarcely\nrippled by the wind. And the people not on duty slept, Arrius in his\nplace, the marines on the floor.\n\nOnce\u2014twice\u2014Ben-Hur was relieved; but he could not sleep. Three years of\nnight, and through the darkness a sunbeam at last! At sea adrift and\nlost, and now land! Dead so long, and, lo! the thrill and stir of\nresurrection. Sleep was not for such an hour. Hope deals with the\nfuture; now and the past are but servants that wait on her with impulse\nand suggestive circumstance. Starting from the favor of the tribune,\nshe carried him forward indefinitely. The wonder is, not that things so\npurely imaginative as the results she points us to can make us so\nhappy, but that we can receive them as so real. They must be as\ngorgeous poppies under the influence of which, under the crimson and\npurple and gold, reason lies down the while, and is not. Sorrows\nassuaged, home and the fortunes of his house restored; mother and\nsister in his arms once more\u2014such were the central ideas which made him\nhappier that moment than he had ever been. That he was rushing, as on\nwings, into horrible battle had, for the time, nothing to do with his\nthoughts. The things thus in hope were unmixed with doubts\u2014they WERE.\nHence his joy so full, so perfect, there was no room in his heart for\nrevenge. Messala, Gratus, Rome, and all the bitter, passionate memories\nconnected with them, were as dead plagues\u2014miasms of the earth above\nwhich he floated, far and safe, listening to singing stars.\n\nThe deeper darkness before the dawn was upon the waters, and all things\ngoing well with the Astroea, when a man, descending from the deck,\nwalked swiftly to the platform where the tribune slept, and awoke him.\nArrius arose, put on his helmet, sword, and shield, and went to the\ncommander of the marines.\n\n\u201cThe pirates are close by. Up and ready!\u201d he said, and passed to the\nstairs, calm, confident, insomuch that one might have thought, \u201cHappy\nfellow! Apicius has set a feast for him.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nEvery soul aboard, even the ship, awoke. Officers went to their\nquarters. The marines took arms, and were led out, looking in all\nrespects like legionaries. Sheaves of arrows and armfuls of javelins\nwere carried on deck. By the central stairs the oil-tanks and\nfire-balls were set ready for use. Additional lanterns were lighted.\nBuckets were filled with water. The rowers in relief assembled under\nguard in front of the chief. As Providence would have it, Ben-Hur was\none of the latter. Overhead he heard the muffled noises of the final\npreparations\u2014of the sailors furling sail, spreading the nettings,\nunslinging the machines, and hanging the armor of bull-hide over the\nside. Presently quiet settled about the galley again; quiet full of\nvague dread and expectation, which, interpreted, means READY.\n\nAt a signal passed down from the deck, and communicated to the hortator\nby a petty officer stationed on the stairs, all at once the oars\nstopped.\n\nWhat did it mean?\n\nOf the hundred and twenty slaves chained to the benches, not one but\nasked himself the question. They were without incentive. Patriotism,\nlove of honor, sense of duty, brought them no inspiration. They felt\nthe thrill common to men rushed helpless and blind into danger. It may\nbe supposed the dullest of them, poising his oar, thought of all that\nmight happen, yet could promise himself nothing; for victory would but\nrivet his chains the firmer, while the chances of the ship were his;\nsinking or on fire, he was doomed to her fate.\n\nOf the situation without they might not ask. And who were the enemy?\nAnd what if they were friends, brethren, countrymen? The reader,\ncarrying the suggestion forward, will see the necessity which governed\nthe Roman when, in such emergencies, he locked the hapless wretches to\ntheir seats.\n\nThere was little time, however, for such thought with them. A sound\nlike the rowing of galleys astern attracted Ben-Hur, and the Astroea\nrocked as if in the midst of countering waves. The idea of a fleet at\nhand broke upon him\u2014a fleet in manoeuvre\u2014forming probably for attack.\nHis blood started with the fancy.\n\nAnother signal came down from the deck. The oars dipped, and the galley\nstarted imperceptibly. No sound from without, none from within, yet\neach man in the cabin instinctively poised himself for a shock; the\nvery ship seemed to catch the sense, and hold its breath, and go\ncrouched tiger-like.\n\nIn such a situation time is inappreciable; so that Ben-Hur could form\nno judgment of distance gone. At last there was a sound of trumpets on\ndeck, full, clear, long blown. The chief beat the sounding-board until\nit rang; the rowers reached forward full length, and, deepening the dip\nof their oars, pulled suddenly with all their united force. The galley,\nquivering in every timber, answered with a leap. Other trumpets joined\nin the clamor\u2014all from the rear, none forward\u2014from the latter quarter\nonly a rising sound of voices in tumult heard briefly. There was a\nmighty blow; the rowers in front of the chief\u2019s platform reeled, some\nof them fell; the ship bounded back, recovered, and rushed on more\nirresistibly than before. Shrill and high arose the shrieks of men in\nterror; over the blare of trumpets, and the grind and crash of the\ncollision, they arose; then under his feet, under the keel, pounding,\nrumbling, breaking to pieces, drowning, Ben-Hur felt something\noverridden. The men about him looked at each other afraid. A shout of\ntriumph from the deck\u2014the beak of the Roman had won! But who were they\nwhom the sea had drunk? Of what tongue, from what land were they?\n\nNo pause, no stay! Forward rushed the Astroea; and, as it went, some\nsailors ran down, and plunging the cotton balls into the oil-tanks,\ntossed them dripping to comrades at the head of the stairs: fire was to\nbe added to other horrors of the combat.\n\nDirectly the galley heeled over so far that the oarsmen on the\nuppermost side with difficulty kept their benches. Again the hearty\nRoman cheer, and with it despairing shrieks. An opposing vessel, caught\nby the grappling-hooks of the great crane swinging from the prow, was\nbeing lifted into the air that it might be dropped and sunk.\n\nThe shouting increased on the right hand and on the left; before,\nbehind, swelled an indescribable clamor. Occasionally there was a\ncrash, followed by sudden peals of fright, telling of other ships\nridden down, and their crews drowned in the vortexes.\n\nNor was the fight all on one side. Now and then a Roman in armor was\nborne down the hatchway, and laid bleeding, sometimes dying, on the\nfloor.\n\nSometimes, also, puffs of smoke, blended with steam, and foul with the\nscent of roasting human flesh, poured into the cabin, turning the\ndimming light into yellow murk. Gasping for breath the while, Ben-Hur\nknew they were passing through the cloud of a ship on fire, and burning\nup with the rowers chained to the benches.\n\nThe Astroea all this time was in motion. Suddenly she stopped. The oars\nforward were dashed from the hands of the rowers, and the rowers from\ntheir benches. On deck, then, a furious trampling, and on the sides a\ngrinding of ships afoul of each other. For the first time the beating\nof the gavel was lost in the uproar. Men sank on the floor in fear or\nlooked about seeking a hiding-place. In the midst of the panic a body\nplunged or was pitched headlong down the hatchway, falling near\nBen-Hur. He beheld the half-naked carcass, a mass of hair blackening\nthe face, and under it a shield of bull-hide and wicker-work\u2014a\nbarbarian from the white-skinned nations of the North whom death had\nrobbed of plunder and revenge. How came he there? An iron hand had\nsnatched him from the opposing deck\u2014no, the Astroea had been boarded!\nThe Romans were fighting on their own deck? A chill smote the young\nJew: Arrius was hard pressed\u2014he might be defending his own life. If he\nshould be slain! God of Abraham forefend! The hopes and dreams so\nlately come, were they only hopes and dreams? Mother and\nsister\u2014house\u2014home\u2014Holy Land\u2014was he not to see them, after all? The\ntumult thundered above him; he looked around; in the cabin all was\nconfusion\u2014the rowers on the benches paralyzed; men running blindly\nhither and thither; only the chief on his seat imperturbable, vainly\nbeating the sounding-board, and waiting the orders of the tribune\u2014in\nthe red murk illustrating the matchless discipline which had won the\nworld.\n\nThe example had a good effect upon Ben-Hur. He controlled himself\nenough to think. Honor and duty bound the Roman to the platform; but\nwhat had he to do with such motives then? The bench was a thing to run\nfrom; while, if he were to die a slave, who would be the better of the\nsacrifice? With him living was duty, if not honor. His life belonged to\nhis people. They arose before him never more real: he saw them, their\narms outstretched; he heard them imploring him. And he would go to\nthem. He started\u2014stopped. Alas! a Roman judgment held him in doom.\nWhile it endured, escape would be profitless. In the wide, wide earth\nthere was no place in which he would be safe from the imperial demand;\nupon the land none, nor upon the sea. Whereas he required freedom\naccording to the forms of law, so only could he abide in Judea and\nexecute the filial purpose to which he would devote himself: in other\nland he would not live. Dear God! How he had waited and watched and\nprayed for such a release! And how it had been delayed! But at last he\nhad seen it in the promise of the tribune. What else the great man\u2019s\nmeaning? And if the benefactor so belated should now be slain! The dead\ncome not back to redeem the pledges of the living. It should not\nbe\u2014Arrius should not die. At least, better perish with him than survive\na galley-slave.\n\nOnce more Ben-Hur looked around. Upon the roof of the cabin the battle\nyet beat; against the sides the hostile vessels yet crushed and grided.\nOn the benches, the slaves struggled to tear loose from their chains,\nand, finding their efforts vain, howled like madmen; the guards had\ngone upstairs; discipline was out, panic in. No, the chief kept his\nchair, unchanged, calm as ever\u2014except the gavel, weaponless. Vainly\nwith his clangor he filled the lulls in the din. Ben-Hur gave him a\nlast look, then broke away\u2014not in flight, but to seek the tribune.\n\nA very short space lay between him and the stairs of the hatchway aft.\nHe took it with a leap, and was half-way up the steps\u2014up far enough to\ncatch a glimpse of the sky blood-red with fire, of the ships alongside,\nof the sea covered with ships and wrecks, of the fight closed in about\nthe pilot\u2019s quarter, the assailants many, the defenders few\u2014when\nsuddenly his foothold was knocked away, and he pitched backward. The\nfloor, when he reached it, seemed to be lifting itself and breaking to\npieces; then, in a twinkling, the whole after-part of the hull broke\nasunder, and, as if it had all the time been lying in wait, the sea,\nhissing and foaming, leaped in, and all became darkness and surging\nwater to Ben-Hur.\n\nIt cannot be said that the young Jew helped himself in this stress.\nBesides his usual strength, he had the indefinite extra force which\nnature keeps in reserve for just such perils to life; yet the darkness,\nand the whirl and roar of water, stupefied him. Even the holding his\nbreath was involuntary.\n\nThe influx of the flood tossed him like a log forward into the cabin,\nwhere he would have drowned but for the refluence of the sinking\nmotion. As it was, fathoms under the surface the hollow mass vomited\nhim forth, and he arose along with the loosed debris. In the act of\nrising, he clutched something, and held to it. The time he was under\nseemed an age longer than it really was; at last he gained the top;\nwith a great gasp he filled his lungs afresh, and, tossing the water\nfrom his hair and eyes, climbed higher upon the plank he held, and\nlooked about him.\n\nDeath had pursued him closely under the waves; he found it waiting for\nhim when he was risen\u2014waiting multiform.\n\nSmoke lay upon the sea like a semitransparent fog, through which here\nand there shone cores of intense brilliance. A quick intelligence told\nhim that they were ships on fire. The battle was yet on; nor could he\nsay who was victor. Within the radius of his vision now and then ships\npassed, shooting shadows athwart lights. Out of the dun clouds farther\non he caught the crash of other ships colliding. The danger, however,\nwas closer at hand. When the Astroea went down, her deck, it will be\nrecollected, held her own crew, and the crews of the two galleys which\nhad attacked her at the same time, all of whom were ingulfed. Many of\nthem came to the surface together, and on the same plank or support of\nwhatever kind continued the combat, begun possibly in the vortex\nfathoms down. Writhing and twisting in deadly embrace, sometimes\nstriking with sword or javelin, they kept the sea around them in\nagitation, at one place inky-black, at another aflame with fiery\nreflections. With their struggles he had nothing to do; they were all\nhis enemies: not one of them but would kill him for the plank upon\nwhich he floated. He made haste to get away.\n\nAbout that time he heard oars in quickest movement, and beheld a galley\ncoming down upon him. The tall prow seemed doubly tall, and the red\nlight playing upon its gilt and carving gave it an appearance of snaky\nlife. Under its foot the water churned to flying foam.\n\nHe struck out, pushing the plank, which was very broad and\nunmanageable. Seconds were precious\u2014half a second might save or lose\nhim. In the crisis of the effort, up from the sea, within arm\u2019s reach,\na helmet shot like a gleam of gold. Next came two hands with fingers\nextended\u2014large hands were they, and strong\u2014their hold once fixed, might\nnot be loosed. Ben-Hur swerved from them appalled. Up rose the helmet\nand the head it encased\u2014then two arms, which began to beat the water\nwildly\u2014the head turned back, and gave the face to the light. The mouth\ngaping wide; the eyes open, but sightless, and the bloodless pallor of\na drowning man\u2014never anything more ghastly! Yet he gave a cry of joy at\nthe sight, and as the face was going under again, he caught the\nsufferer by the chain which passed from the helmet beneath the chin,\nand drew him to the plank.\n\nThe man was Arrius, the tribune.\n\nFor a while the water foamed and eddied violently about Ben-Hur, taxing\nall his strength to hold to the support and at the same time keep the\nRoman\u2019s head above the surface. The galley had passed, leaving the two\nbarely outside the stroke of its oars. Right through the floating men,\nover heads helmeted as well as heads bare, she drove, in her wake\nnothing but the sea sparkling with fire. A muffled crash, succeeded by\na great outcry, made the rescuer look again from his charge. A certain\nsavage pleasure touched his heart\u2014the Astroea was avenged.\n\nAfter that the battle moved on. Resistance turned to flight. But who\nwere the victors? Ben-Hur was sensible how much his freedom and the\nlife of the tribune depended upon that event. He pushed the plank under\nthe latter until it floated him, after which all his care was to keep\nhim there. The dawn came slowly. He watched its growing hopefully, yet\nsometimes afraid. Would it bring the Romans or the pirates? If the\npirates, his charge was lost.\n\nAt last morning broke in full, the air without a breath. Off to the\nleft he saw the land, too far to think of attempting to make it. Here\nand there men were adrift like himself. In spots the sea was blackened\nby charred and sometimes smoking fragments. A galley up a long way was\nlying to with a torn sail hanging from the tilted yard, and the oars\nall idle. Still farther away he could discern moving specks, which he\nthought might be ships in flight or pursuit, or they might be white\nbirds a-wing.\n\nAn hour passed thus. His anxiety increased. If relief came not\nspeedily, Arrius would die. Sometimes he seemed already dead, he lay so\nstill. He took the helmet off, and then, with greater difficulty, the\ncuirass; the heart he found fluttering. He took hope at the sign, and\nheld on. There was nothing to do but wait, and, after the manner of his\npeople, pray.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nThe throes of recovery from drowning are more painful than the\ndrowning. These Arrius passed through, and, at length, to Ben-Hur\u2019s\ndelight, reached the point of speech.\n\nGradually, from incoherent questions as to where he was, and by whom\nand how he had been saved, he reverted to the battle. The doubt of the\nvictory stimulated his faculties to full return, a result aided not a\nlittle by a long rest\u2014such as could be had on their frail support.\nAfter a while he became talkative.\n\n\u201cOur rescue, I see, depends upon the result of the fight. I see also\nwhat thou hast done for me. To speak fairly, thou hast saved my life at\nthe risk of thy own. I make the acknowledgment broadly; and, whatever\ncometh, thou hast my thanks. More than that, if fortune doth but serve\nme kindly, and we get well out of this peril, I will do thee such favor\nas becometh a Roman who hath power and opportunity to prove his\ngratitude. Yet, yet it is to be seen if, with thy good intent, thou\nhast really done me a kindness; or, rather, speaking to thy\ngood-will\u201d\u2014he hesitated\u2014\u201cI would exact of thee a promise to do me, in a\ncertain event, the greatest favor one man can do another\u2014and of that\nlet me have thy pledge now.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf the thing be not forbidden, I will do it,\u201d Ben-Hur replied.\n\nArrius rested again.\n\n\u201cArt thou, indeed, a son of Hur, the Jew?\u201d he next asked.\n\n\u201cIt is as I have said.\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew thy father\u2014\u201d\n\nJudah drew himself nearer, for the tribune\u2019s voice was weak\u2014he drew\nnearer, and listened eagerly\u2014at last he thought to hear of home.\n\n\u201cI knew him, and loved him,\u201d Arrius continued.\n\nThere was another pause, during which something diverted the speaker\u2019s\nthought.\n\n\u201cIt cannot be,\u201d he proceeded, \u201cthat thou, a son of his, hast not heard\nof Cato and Brutus. They were very great men, and never as great as in\ndeath. In their dying, they left this law\u2014A Roman may not survive his\ngood-fortune. Art thou listening?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hear.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a custom of gentlemen in Rome to wear a ring. There is one on my\nhand. Take it now.\u201d\n\nHe held the hand to Judah, who did as he asked.\n\n\u201cNow put it on thine own hand.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur did so.\n\n\u201cThe trinket hath its uses,\u201d said Arrius next. \u201cI have property and\nmoney. I am accounted rich even in Rome. I have no family. Show the\nring to my freedman, who hath control in my absence; you will find him\nin a villa near Misenum. Tell him how it came to thee, and ask\nanything, or all he may have; he will not refuse the demand. If I live,\nI will do better by thee. I will make thee free, and restore thee to\nthy home and people; or thou mayst give thyself to the pursuit that\npleaseth thee most. Dost thou hear?\u201d\n\n\u201cI could not choose but hear.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen pledge me. By the gods\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, good tribune, I am a Jew.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy thy God, then, or in the form most sacred to those of thy\nfaith\u2014pledge me to do what I tell thee now, and as I tell thee; I am\nwaiting, let me have thy promise.\u201d\n\n\u201cNoble Arrius, I am warned by thy manner to expect something of gravest\nconcern. Tell me thy wish first.\u201d\n\n\u201cWilt thou promise then?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat were to give the pledge, and\u2014 Blessed be the God of my fathers!\nyonder cometh a ship!\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what direction?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the north.\u201d\n\n\u201cCanst thou tell her nationality by outward signs?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. My service hath been at the oars.\u201d\n\n\u201cHath she a flag?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot see one.\u201d\n\nArrius remained quiet some time, apparently in deep reflection.\n\n\u201cDoes the ship hold this way yet?\u201d he at length asked.\n\n\u201cStill this way.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook for the flag now.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe hath none.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor any other sign?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe hath a sail set, and is of three banks, and cometh swiftly\u2014that is\nall I can say of her.\u201d\n\n\u201cA Roman in triumph would have out many flags. She must be an enemy.\nHear now,\u201d said Arrius, becoming grave again, \u201chear, while yet I may\nspeak. If the galley be a pirate, thy life is safe; they may not give\nthee freedom; they may put thee to the oar again; but they will not\nkill thee. On the other hand, I\u2014\u201d\n\nThe tribune faltered.\n\n\u201cPerpol!\u201d he continued, resolutely. \u201cI am too old to submit to\ndishonor. In Rome, let them tell how Quintus Arrius, as became a Roman\ntribune, went down with his ship in the midst of the foe. This is what\nI would have thee do. If the galley prove a pirate, push me from the\nplank and drown me. Dost thou hear? Swear thou wilt do it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not swear,\u201d said Ben-Hur, firmly; \u201cneither will I do the deed.\nThe Law, which is to me most binding, O tribune, would make me\nanswerable for thy life. Take back the ring\u201d\u2014he took the seal from his\nfinger\u2014\u201ctake it back, and all thy promises of favor in the event of\ndelivery from this peril. The judgment which sent me to the oar for\nlife made me a slave, yet I am not a slave; no more am I thy freedman.\nI am a son of Israel, and this moment, at least, my own master. Take\nback the ring.\u201d\n\nArrius remained passive.\n\n\u201cThou wilt not?\u201d Judah continued. \u201cNot in anger, then, nor in any\ndespite, but to free myself from a hateful obligation, I will give thy\ngift to the sea. See, O tribune!\u201d\n\nHe tossed the ring away. Arrius heard the splash where it struck and\nsank, though he did not look.\n\n\u201cThou hast done a foolish thing,\u201d he said; \u201cfoolish for one placed as\nthou art. I am not dependent upon thee for death. Life is a thread I\ncan break without thy help; and, if I do, what will become of thee? Men\ndetermined on death prefer it at the hands of others, for the reason\nthat the soul which Plato giveth us is rebellious at the thought of\nself-destruction; that is all. If the ship be a pirate, I will escape\nfrom the world. My mind is fixed. I am a Roman. Success and honor are\nall in all. Yet I would have served thee; thou wouldst not. The ring\nwas the only witness of my will available in this situation. We are\nboth lost. I will die regretting the victory and glory wrested from me;\nthou wilt live to die a little later, mourning the pious duties undone\nbecause of this folly. I pity thee.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur saw the consequences of his act more distinctly than before,\nyet he did not falter.\n\n\u201cIn the three years of my servitude, O tribune, thou wert the first to\nlook upon me kindly. No, no! There was another.\u201d The voice dropped, the\neyes became humid, and he saw plainly as if it were then before him the\nface of the boy who helped him to a drink by the old well at Nazareth.\n\u201cAt least,\u201d he proceeded, \u201cthou wert the first to ask me who I was; and\nif, when I reached out and caught thee, blind and sinking the last\ntime, I, too, had thought of the many ways in which thou couldst be\nuseful to me in my wretchedness, still the act was not all selfish;\nthis I pray you to believe. Moreover, seeing as God giveth me to know,\nthe ends I dream of are to be wrought by fair means alone. As a thing\nof conscience, I would rather die with thee than be thy slayer. My mind\nis firmly set as thine; though thou wert to offer me all Rome, O\ntribune, and it belonged to thee to make the gift good, I would not\nkill thee. Thy Cato and Brutus were as little children compared to the\nHebrew whose law a Jew must obey.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut my request. Hast\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cThy command would be of more weight, and that would not move me. I\nhave said.\u201d\n\nBoth became silent, waiting.\n\nBen-Hur looked often at the coming ship. Arrius rested with closed\neyes, indifferent.\n\n\u201cArt thou sure she is an enemy?\u201d Ben-Hur asked.\n\n\u201cI think so,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cShe stops, and puts a boat over the side.\u201d\n\n\u201cDost thou see her flag?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there no other sign by which she may be known if Roman?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf Roman, she hath a helmet over the mast\u2019s top.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen be of cheer. I see the helmet.\u201d\n\nStill Arrius was not assured.\n\n\u201cThe men in the small boat are taking in the people afloat. Pirates are\nnot humane.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey may need rowers,\u201d Arrius replied, recurring, possibly, to times\nwhen he had made rescues for the purpose.\n\nBen-Hur was very watchful of the actions of the strangers.\n\n\u201cThe ship moves off,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cWhither?\u201d\n\n\u201cOver on our right there is a galley which I take to be deserted. The\nnew-comer heads towards it. Now she is alongside. Now she is sending\nmen aboard.\u201d\n\nThen Arrius opened his eyes and threw off his calm.\n\n\u201cThank thou thy God,\u201d he said to Ben-Hur, after a look at the galleys,\n\u201cthank thou thy God, as I do my many gods. A pirate would sink, not\nsave, yon ship. By the act and the helmet on the mast I know a Roman.\nThe victory is mine. Fortune hath not deserted me. We are saved. Wave\nthy hand\u2014call to them\u2014bring them quickly. I shall be duumvir, and thou!\nI knew thy father, and loved him. He was a prince indeed. He taught me\na Jew was not a barbarian. I will take thee with me. I will make thee\nmy son. Give thy God thanks, and call the sailors. Haste! The pursuit\nmust be kept. Not a robber shall escape. Hasten them!\u201d\n\nJudah raised himself upon the plank, and waved his hand, and called\nwith all his might; at last he drew the attention of the sailors in the\nsmall boat, and they were speedily taken up.\n\nArrius was received on the galley with all the honors due a hero so the\nfavorite of Fortune. Upon a couch on the deck he heard the particulars\nof the conclusion of the fight. When the survivors afloat upon the\nwater were all saved and the prize secured, he spread his flag of\ncommandant anew, and hurried northward to rejoin the fleet and perfect\nthe victory. In due time the fifty vessels coming down the channel\nclosed in upon the fugitive pirates, and crushed them utterly; not one\nescaped. To swell the tribune\u2019s glory, twenty galleys of the enemy were\ncaptured.\n\nUpon his return from the cruise, Arrius had warm welcome on the mole at\nMisenum. The young man attending him very early attracted the attention\nof his friends there; and to their questions as to who he was the\ntribune proceeded in the most affectionate manner to tell the story of\nhis rescue and introduce the stranger, omitting carefully all that\npertained to the latter\u2019s previous history. At the end of the\nnarrative, he called Ben-Hur to him, and said, with a hand resting\naffectionately upon his shoulder,\n\n\u201cGood friends, this is my son and heir, who, as he is to take my\nproperty\u2014if it be the will of the gods that I leave any\u2014shall be known\nto you by my name. I pray you all to love him as you love me.\u201d\n\nSpeedily as opportunity permitted, the adoption was formally perfected.\nAnd in such manner the brave Roman kept his faith with Ben-Hur, giving\nhim happy introduction into the imperial world. The month succeeding\nArrius\u2019s return, the armilustrium was celebrated with the utmost\nmagnificence in the theater of Scaurus. One side of the structure was\ntaken up with military trophies; among which by far the most\nconspicuous and most admired were twenty prows, complemented by their\ncorresponding aplustra, cut bodily from as many galleys; and over them,\nso as to be legible to the eighty thousand spectators in the seats, was\nthis inscription:\n\nTAKEN FROM THE PIRATES IN THE GULF OF EURIPUS,\nBY\nQUINTUS ARRIUS,\nDUUMVIR.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK FOURTH\n\n\n\u201cAlva. Should the monarch prove unjust\u2014\nAnd, at this time\u2014\n\nQueen. Then I must wait for justice\nUntil it come; and they are happiest far\nWhose consciences may calmly wait their right.\u201d\n                    Schiller, Don Carlos (act iv., sc. xv.)\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe month to which we now come is July, the year that of our Lord 29,\nand the place Antioch, then Queen of the East, and next to Rome the\nstrongest, if not the most populous, city in the world.\n\nThere is an opinion that the extravagance and dissoluteness of the age\nhad their origin in Rome, and spread thence throughout the empire; that\nthe great cities but reflected the manners of their mistress on the\nTiber. This may be doubted. The reaction of the conquest would seem to\nhave been upon the morals of the conqueror. In Greece she found a\nspring of corruption; so also in Egypt; and the student, having\nexhausted the subject, will close the books assured that the flow of\nthe demoralizing river was from the East westwardly, and that this very\ncity of Antioch, one of the oldest seats of Assyrian power and\nsplendor, was a principal source of the deadly stream.\n\nA transport galley entered the mouth of the river Orontes from the blue\nwaters of the sea. It was in the forenoon. The heat was great, yet all\non board who could avail themselves of the privilege were on\ndeck\u2014Ben-Hur among others.\n\nThe five years had brought the young Jew to perfect manhood. Though the\nrobe of white linen in which he was attired somewhat masked his form,\nhis appearance was unusually attractive. For an hour and more he had\noccupied a seat in the shade of the sail, and in that time several\nfellow-passengers of his own nationality had tried to engage him in\nconversation, but without avail. His replies to their questions had\nbeen brief, though gravely courteous, and in the Latin tongue. The\npurity of his speech, his cultivated manners, his reticence, served to\nstimulate their curiosity the more. Such as observed him closely were\nstruck by an incongruity between his demeanor, which had the ease and\ngrace of a patrician, and certain points of his person. Thus his arms\nwere disproportionately long; and when, to steady himself against the\nmotion of the vessel, he took hold of anything near by, the size of his\nhands and their evident power compelled remark; so the wonder who and\nwhat he was mixed continually with a wish to know the particulars of\nhis life. In other words, his air cannot be better described than as a\nnotice\u2014This man has a story to tell.\n\nThe galley, in coming, had stopped at one of the ports of Cyprus, and\npicked up a Hebrew of most respectable appearance, quiet, reserved,\npaternal. Ben-Hur ventured to ask him some questions; the replies won\nhis confidence, and resulted finally in an extended conversation.\n\nIt chanced also that as the galley from Cyprus entered the receiving\nbay of the Orontes, two other vessels which had been sighted out in the\nsea met it and passed into the river at the same time; and as they did\nso both the strangers threw out small flags of brightest yellow. There\nwas much conjecture as to the meaning of the signals. At length a\npassenger addressed himself to the respectable Hebrew for information\nupon the subject.\n\n\u201cYes, I know the meaning of the flags,\u201d he replied; \u201cthey do not\nsignify nationality\u2014they are merely marks of ownership.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas the owner many ships?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have dealt with him.\u201d\n\nThe passengers looked at the speaker as if requesting him to go on.\nBen-Hur listened with interest.\n\n\u201cHe lives in Antioch,\u201d the Hebrew continued, in his quiet way. \u201cThat he\nis vastly rich has brought him into notice, and the talk about him is\nnot always kind. There used to be in Jerusalem a prince of very ancient\nfamily named Hur.\u201d\n\nJudah strove to be composed, yet his heart beat quicker.\n\n\u201cThe prince was a merchant, with a genius for business. He set on foot\nmany enterprises, some reaching far East, others West. In the great\ncities he had branch houses. The one in Antioch was in charge of a man\nsaid by some to have been a family servant called Simonides, Greek in\nname, yet an Israelite. The master was drowned at sea. His business,\nhowever, went on, and was scarcely less prosperous. After a while\nmisfortune overtook the family. The prince\u2019s only son, nearly grown,\ntried to kill the procurator Gratus in one of the streets of Jerusalem.\nHe failed by a narrow chance, and has not since been heard of. In fact,\nthe Roman\u2019s rage took in the whole house\u2014not one of the name was left\nalive. Their palace was sealed up, and is now a rookery for pigeons;\nthe estate was confiscated; everything that could be traced to the\nownership of the Hurs was confiscated. The procurator cured his hurt\nwith a golden salve.\u201d\n\nThe passengers laughed.\n\n\u201cYou mean he kept the property,\u201d said one of them.\n\n\u201cThey say so,\u201d the Hebrew replied; \u201cI am only telling a story as I\nreceived it. And, to go on, Simonides, who had been the prince\u2019s agent\nhere in Antioch, opened trade in a short time on his own account, and\nin a space incredibly brief became the master merchant of the city. In\nimitation of his master, he sent caravans to India; and on the sea at\npresent he has galleys enough to make a royal fleet. They say nothing\ngoes amiss with him. His camels do not die, except of old age; his\nships never founder; if he throw a chip into the river, it will come\nback to him gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long has he been going on thus?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot ten years.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe must have had a good start.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, they say the procurator took only the prince\u2019s property ready at\nhand\u2014his horses, cattle, houses, land, vessels, goods. The money could\nnot be found, though there must have been vast sums of it. What became\nof it has been an unsolved mystery.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot to me,\u201d said a passenger, with a sneer.\n\n\u201cI understand you,\u201d the Hebrew answered. \u201cOthers have had your idea.\nThat it furnished old Simonides his start is a common belief. The\nprocurator is of that opinion\u2014or he has been\u2014for twice in five years he\nhas caught the merchant, and put him to torture.\u201d\n\nJudah gripped the rope he was holding with crushing force.\n\n\u201cIt is said,\u201d the narrator continued, \u201cthat there is not a sound bone\nin the man\u2019s body. The last time I saw him he sat in a chair, a\nshapeless cripple, propped against cushions.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo tortured!\u201d exclaimed several listeners in a breath.\n\n\u201cDisease could not have produced such a deformity. Still the suffering\nmade no impression upon him. All he had was his lawfully, and he was\nmaking lawful use of it\u2014that was the most they wrung from him. Now,\nhowever, he is past persecution. He has a license to trade signed by\nTiberius himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe paid roundly for it, I warrant.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese ships are his,\u201d the Hebrew continued, passing the remark. \u201cIt is\na custom among his sailors to salute each other upon meeting by\nthrowing out yellow flags, sight of which is as much as to say, \u2018We\nhave had a fortunate voyage.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe story ended there.\n\nWhen the transport was fairly in the channel of the river, Judah spoke\nto the Hebrew.\n\n\u201cWhat was the name of the merchant\u2019s master?\u201d\n\n\u201cBen-Hur, Prince of Jerusalem.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat became of the prince\u2019s family?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe boy was sent to the galleys. I may say he is dead. One year is the\nordinary limit of life under that sentence. The widow and daughter have\nnot been heard of; those who know what became of them will not speak.\nThey died doubtless in the cells of one of the castles which spot the\nwaysides of Judea.\u201d\n\nJudah walked to the pilot\u2019s quarter. So absorbed was he in thought that\nhe scarcely noticed the shores of the river, which from sea to city\nwere surpassingly beautiful with orchards of all the Syrian fruits and\nvines, clustered about villas rich as those of Neapolis. No more did he\nobserve the vessels passing in an endless fleet, nor hear the singing\nand shouting of the sailors, some in labor, some in merriment. The sky\nwas full of sunlight, lying in hazy warmth upon the land and the water;\nnowhere except over his life was there a shadow.\n\nOnce only he awoke to a momentary interest, and that was when some one\npointed out the Grove of Daphne, discernible from a bend in the river.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nWhen the city came into view, the passengers were on deck, eager that\nnothing of the scene might escape them. The respectable Jew already\nintroduced to the reader was the principal spokesman.\n\n\u201cThe river here runs to the west,\u201d he said, in the way of general\nanswer. \u201cI remember when it washed the base of the walls; but as Roman\nsubjects we have lived in peace, and, as always happens in such times,\ntrade has had its will; now the whole river front is taken up with\nwharves and docks. Yonder\u201d\u2014the speaker pointed southward\u2014\u201cis Mount\nCasius, or, as these people love to call it, the Mountains of Orontes,\nlooking across to its brother Amnus in the north; and between them lies\nthe Plain of Antioch. Farther on are the Black Mountains, whence the\nDucts of the Kings bring the purest water to wash the thirsty streets\nand people; yet they are forests in wilderness state, dense, and full\nof birds and beasts.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is the lake?\u201d one asked.\n\n\u201cOver north there. You can take horse, if you wish to see it\u2014or,\nbetter, a boat, for a tributary connects it with the river.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Grove of Daphne!\u201d he said, to a third inquirer. \u201cNobody can\ndescribe it; only beware! It was begun by Apollo, and completed by him.\nHe prefers it to Olympus. People go there for one look\u2014just one\u2014and\nnever come away. They have a saying which tells it all\u2014\u2018Better be a\nworm and feed on the mulberries of Daphne than a king\u2019s guest.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you advise me to stay away from it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I! Go you will. Everybody goes, cynic philosopher, virile boy,\nwomen, and priests\u2014all go. So sure am I of what you will do that I\nassume to advise you. Do not take quarters in the city\u2014that will be\nloss of time; but go at once to the village in the edge of the grove.\nThe way is through a garden, under the spray of fountains. The lovers\nof the god and his Penaean maid built the town; and in its porticos and\npaths and thousand retreats you will find characters and habits and\nsweets and kinds elsewhere impossible. But the wall of the city! there\nit is, the masterpiece of Xeraeus, the master of mural architecture.\u201d\n\nAll eyes followed his pointing finger.\n\n\u201cThis part was raised by order of the first of the Seleucid\u00e6. Three\nhundred years have made it part of the rock it rests upon.\u201d\n\nThe defense justified the encomium. High, solid, and with many bold\nangles, it curved southwardly out of view.\n\n\u201cOn the top there are four hundred towers, each a reservoir of water,\u201d\nthe Hebrew continued. \u201cLook now! Over the wall, tall as it is, see in\nthe distance two hills, which you may know as the rival crests of\nSulpius. The structure on the farthest one is the citadel, garrisoned\nall the year round by a Roman legion. Opposite it this way rises the\nTemple of Jupiter, and under that the front of the legate\u2019s residence\u2014a\npalace full of offices, and yet a fortress against which a mob would\ndash harmlessly as a south wind.\u201d\n\nAt this point the sailors began taking in sail, whereupon the Hebrew\nexclaimed, heartily, \u201cSee! you who hate the sea, and you who have vows,\nget ready your curses and your prayers. The bridge yonder, over which\nthe road to Seleucia is carried, marks the limit of navigation. What\nthe ship unloads for further transit, the camel takes up there. Above\nthe bridge begins the island upon which Calinicus built his new city,\nconnecting it with five great viaducts so solid time has made no\nimpression upon them, nor floods nor earthquakes. Of the main town, my\nfriends, I have only to say you will be happier all your lives for\nhaving seen it.\u201d\n\nAs he concluded, the ship turned and made slowly for her wharf under\nthe wall, bringing even more fairly to view the life with which the\nriver at that point was possessed. Finally, the lines were thrown, the\noars shipped, and the voyage was done. Then Ben-Hur sought the\nrespectable Hebrew.\n\n\u201cLet me trouble you a moment before saying farewell.\u201d\n\nThe man bowed assent.\n\n\u201cYour story of the merchant has made me curious to see him. You called\nhim Simonides?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. He is a Jew with a Greek name.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is he to be found?\u201d\n\nThe acquaintance gave a sharp look before he answered,\n\n\u201cI may save you mortification. He is not a money-lender.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor am I a money-borrower,\u201d said Ben-Hur, smiling at the other\u2019s\nshrewdness.\n\nThe man raised his head and considered an instant.\n\n\u201cOne would think,\u201d he then replied, \u201cthat the richest merchant in\nAntioch would have a house for business corresponding to his wealth;\nbut if you would find him in the day, follow the river to yon bridge,\nunder which he quarters in a building that looks like a buttress of the\nwall. Before the door there is an immense landing, always covered with\ncargoes come and to go. The fleet that lies moored there is his. You\ncannot fail to find him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI give you thanks.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe peace of our fathers go with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd with you.\u201d\n\nWith that they separated.\n\nTwo street-porters, loaded with his baggage, received Ben-Hur\u2019s orders\nupon the wharf.\n\n\u201cTo the citadel,\u201d he said; a direction which implied an official\nmilitary connection.\n\nTwo great streets, cutting each other at right angles, divided the city\ninto quarters. A curious and immense structure, called the Nymphaeum,\narose at the foot of the one running north and south. When the porters\nturned south there, the new-comer, though fresh from Rome, was amazed\nat the magnificence of the avenue. On the right and left there were\npalaces, and between them extended indefinitely double colonnades of\nmarble, leaving separate ways for footmen, beasts, and chariots; the\nwhole under shade, and cooled by fountains of incessant flow.\n\nBen-Hur was not in mood to enjoy the spectacle. The story of Simonides\nhaunted him. Arrived at the Omphalus\u2014a monument of four arches wide as\nthe streets, superbly illustrated, and erected to himself by Epiphanes,\nthe eighth of the Seleucid\u00e6\u2014he suddenly changed his mind.\n\n\u201cI will not go to the citadel to-night,\u201d he said to the porters. \u201cTake\nme to the khan nearest the bridge on the road to Seleucia.\u201d\n\nThe party faced about, and in good time he was deposited in a public\nhouse of primitive but ample construction, within stone\u2019s-throw of the\nbridge under which old Simonides had his quarters. He lay upon the\nhouse-top through the night. In his inner mind lived the thought,\n\u201cNow\u2014now I will hear of home\u2014and mother\u2014and the dear little Tirzah. If\nthey are on earth, I will find them.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nNext day early, to the neglect of the city, Ben-Hur sought the house of\nSimonides. Through an embattled gateway he passed to a continuity of\nwharves; thence up the river midst a busy press, to the Seleucian\nBridge, under which he paused to take in the scene.\n\nThere, directly under the bridge, was the merchant\u2019s house, a mass of\ngray stone, unhewn, referable to no style, looking, as the voyager had\ndescribed it, like a buttress of the wall against which it leaned. Two\nimmense doors in front communicated with the wharf. Some holes near the\ntop, heavily barred, served as windows. Weeds waved from the crevices,\nand in places black moss splotched the otherwise bald stones.\n\nThe doors were open. Through one of them business went in; through the\nother it came out; and there was hurry, hurry in all its movements.\n\nOn the wharf there were piles of goods in every kind of package, and\ngroups of slaves, stripped to the waist, going about in the abandon of\nlabor.\n\nBelow the bridge lay a fleet of galleys, some loading, others\nunloading. A yellow flag blew out from each masthead. From fleet and\nwharf, and from ship to ship, the bondmen of traffic passed in\nclamorous counter-currents.\n\nAbove the bridge, across the river, a wall rose from the water\u2019s edge,\nover which towered the fanciful cornices and turrets of an imperial\npalace, covering every foot of the island spoken of in the Hebrew\u2019s\ndescription. But, with all its suggestions, Ben-Hur scarcely noticed\nit. Now, at last, he thought to hear of his people\u2014this, certainly, if\nSimonides had indeed been his father\u2019s slave. But would the man\nacknowledge the relation? That would be to give up his riches and the\nsovereignty of trade so royally witnessed on the wharf and river. And\nwhat was of still greater consequence to the merchant, it would be to\nforego his career in the midst of amazing success, and yield himself\nvoluntarily once more a slave. Simple thought of the demand seemed a\nmonstrous audacity. Stripped of diplomatic address, it was to say, You\nare my slave; give me all you have, and\u2014yourself.\n\nYet Ben-Hur derived strength for the interview from faith in his rights\nand the hope uppermost in his heart. If the story to which he was\nyielding were true, Simonides belonged to him, with all he had. For the\nwealth, be it said in justice, he cared nothing. When he started to the\ndoor determined in mind, it was with a promise to himself\u2014\u201cLet him tell\nme of mother and Tirzah, and I will give him his freedom without\naccount.\u201d\n\nHe passed boldly into the house.\n\nThe interior was that of a vast depot where, in ordered spaces, and\nunder careful arrangement, goods of every kind were heaped and pent.\nThough the light was murky and the air stifling, men moved about\nbriskly; and in places he saw workmen with saws and hammers making\npackages for shipments. Down a path between the piles he walked slowly,\nwondering if the man of whose genius there were here such abounding\nproofs could have been his father\u2019s slave? If so, to what class had he\nbelonged? If a Jew, was he the son of a servant? Or was he a debtor or\na debtor\u2019s son? Or had he been sentenced and sold for theft? These\nthoughts, as they passed, in nowise disturbed the growing respect for\nthe merchant of which he was each instant more and more conscious. A\npeculiarity of our admiration for another is that it is always looking\nfor circumstances to justify itself.\n\nAt length a man approached and spoke to him.\n\n\u201cWhat would you have?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would see Simonides, the merchant.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you come this way?\u201d\n\nBy a number of paths left in the stowage, they finally came to a flight\nof steps; ascending which, he found himself on the roof of the depot,\nand in front of a structure which cannot be better described than as a\nlesser stone house built upon another, invisible from the landing\nbelow, and out west of the bridge under the open sky. The roof, hemmed\nin by a low wall, seemed like a terrace, which, to his astonishment,\nwas brilliant with flowers; in the rich surrounding, the house sat\nsquat, a plain square block, unbroken except by a doorway in front. A\ndustless path led to the door, through a bordering of shrubs of Persian\nrose in perfect bloom. Breathing a sweet attar-perfume, he followed the\nguide.\n\nAt the end of a darkened passage within, they stopped before a curtain\nhalf parted. The man called out,\n\n\u201cA stranger to see the master.\u201d\n\nA clear voice replied, \u201cIn God\u2019s name, let him enter.\u201d\n\nA Roman might have called the apartment into which the visitor was\nushered his atrium. The walls were paneled; each panel was comparted\nlike a modern office-desk, and each compartment crowded with labelled\nfolios all filemot with age and use. Between the panels, and above and\nbelow them, were borders of wood once white, now tinted like cream, and\ncarved with marvellous intricacy of design. Above a cornice of gilded\nballs, the ceiling rose in pavilion style until it broke into a shallow\ndome set with hundreds of panes of violet mica, permitting a flood of\nlight deliciously reposeful. The floor was carpeted with gray rugs so\nthick that an invading foot fell half buried and soundless.\n\nIn the midlight of the room were two persons\u2014a man resting in a chair\nhigh-backed, broad-armed, and lined with pliant cushions; and at his\nleft, leaning against the back of the chair, a girl well forward into\nwomanhood. At sight of them Ben-Hur felt the blood redden his forehead;\nbowing, as much to recover himself as in respect, he lost the lifting\nof the hands, and the shiver and shrink with which the sitter caught\nsight of him\u2014an emotion as swift to go as it had been to come. When he\nraised his eyes the two were in the same position, except the girl\u2019s\nhand had fallen and was resting lightly upon the elder\u2019s shoulder; both\nof them were regarding him fixedly.\n\n\u201cIf you are Simonides, the merchant, and a Jew\u201d\u2014Ben-Hur stopped an\ninstant\u2014\u201cthen the peace of the God of our father Abraham upon you\nand\u2014yours.\u201d\n\nThe last word was addressed to the girl.\n\n\u201cI am the Simonides of whom you speak, by birthright a Jew,\u201d the man\nmade answer, in a voice singularly clear. \u201cI am Simonides, and a Jew;\nand I return you your salutation, with prayer to know who calls upon\nme.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked as he listened, and where the figure of the man should\nhave been in healthful roundness, there was only a formless heap sunk\nin the depths of the cushions, and covered by a quilted robe of sombre\nsilk. Over the heap shone a head royally proportioned\u2014the ideal head of\na statesman and conqueror\u2014a head broad of base and domelike in front,\nsuch as Angelo would have modelled for C\u00e6sar. White hair dropped in\nthin locks over the white brows, deepening the blackness of the eyes\nshining through them like sullen lights. The face was bloodless, and\nmuch puffed with folds, especially under the chin. In other words, the\nhead and face were those of a man who might move the world more readily\nthan the world could move him\u2014a man to be twice twelve times tortured\ninto the shapeless cripple he was, without a groan, much less a\nconfession; a man to yield his life, but never a purpose or a point; a\nman born in armor, and assailable only through his loves. To him\nBen-Hur stretched his hands, open and palm up, as he would offer peace\nat the same time he asked it.\n\n\u201cI am Judah, son of Ithamar, late head of the House of Hur, and a\nprince of Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nThe merchant\u2019s right hand lay outside the robe\u2014a long, thin hand,\narticulate to deformity with suffering. It closed tightly; otherwise\nthere was not the slightest expression of feeling of any kind on his\npart; nothing to warrant an inference of surprise or interest; nothing\nbut this calm answer,\n\n\u201cThe princes of Jerusalem, of the pure blood, are always welcome in my\nhouse; you are welcome. Give the young man a seat, Esther.\u201d\n\nThe girl took an ottoman near by, and carried it to Ben-Hur. As she\narose from placing the seat, their eyes met.\n\n\u201cThe peace of our Lord with you,\u201d she said, modestly. \u201cBe seated and at\nrest.\u201d\n\nWhen she resumed her place by the chair, she had not divined his\npurpose. The powers of woman go not so far: if the matter is of finer\nfeeling, such as pity, mercy, sympathy, that she detects; and therein\nis a difference between her and man which will endure as long as she\nremains, by nature, alive to such feelings. She was simply sure he\nbrought some wound of life for healing.\n\nBen-Hur did not take the offered seat, but said, deferentially, \u201cI pray\nthe good master Simonides that he will not hold me an intruder. Coming\nup the river yesterday, I heard he knew my father.\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew the Prince Hur. We were associated in some enterprises lawful\nto merchants who find profit in lands beyond the sea and the desert.\nBut sit, I pray you\u2014and, Esther, some wine for the young man. Nehemiah\nspeaks of a son of Hur who once ruled the half part of Jerusalem; an\nold house; very old, by the faith! In the days of Moses and Joshua even\nsome of them found favor in the sight of the Lord, and divided honors\nwith those princes among men. It can hardly be that their descendant,\nlineally come to us, will refuse a cup of wine-fat of the genuine vine\nof Sorek, grown on the south hill-sides of Hebron.\u201d\n\nBy the time of the conclusion of this speech, Esther was before Ben-Hur\nwith a silver cup filled from a vase upon a table a little removed from\nthe chair. She offered the drink with downcast face. He touched her\nhand gently to put it away. Again their eyes met; whereat he noticed\nthat she was small, not nearly to his shoulder in height; but very\ngraceful, and fair and sweet of face, with eyes black and inexpressibly\nsoft. She is kind and pretty, he thought, and looks as Tirzah would\nwere she living. Poor Tirzah! Then he said aloud,\n\n\u201cNo, thy father\u2014if he is thy father?\u201d\u2014he paused.\n\n\u201cI am Esther, the daughter of Simonides,\u201d she said, with dignity.\n\n\u201cThen, fair Esther, thy father, when he has heard my further speech,\nwill not think worse of me if yet I am slow to take his wine of famous\nextract; nor less I hope not to lose grace in thy sight. Stand thou\nhere with me a moment!\u201d\n\nBoth of them, as in common cause, turned to the merchant. \u201cSimonides!\u201d\nhe said, firmly, \u201cmy father, at his death, had a trusted servant of thy\nname, and it has been told me that thou art the man!\u201d\n\nThere was a sudden start of the wrenched limbs under the robe, and the\nthin hand clenched.\n\n\u201cEsther, Esther!\u201d the man called, sternly; \u201chere, not there, as thou\nart thy mother\u2019s child and mine\u2014here, not there, I say!\u201d\n\nThe girl looked once from father to visitor; then she replaced the cup\nupon the table, and went dutifully to the chair. Her countenance\nsufficiently expressed her wonder and alarm.\n\nSimonides lifted his left hand, and gave it into hers, lying lovingly\nupon his shoulder, and said, dispassionately, \u201cI have grown old in\ndealing with men\u2014old before my time. If he who told thee that whereof\nthou speakest was a friend acquainted with my history, and spoke of it\nnot harshly, he must have persuaded thee that I could not be else than\na man distrustful of my kind. The God of Israel help him who, at the\nend of life, is constrained to acknowledge so much! My loves are few,\nbut they are. One of them is a soul which\u201d\u2014he carried the hand holding\nhis to his lips, in manner unmistakable\u2014\u201ca soul which to this time has\nbeen unselfishly mine, and such sweet comfort that, were it taken from\nme, I would die.\u201d\n\nEsther\u2019s head drooped until her cheek touched his.\n\n\u201cThe other love is but a memory; of which I will say further that, like\na benison of the Lord, it hath a compass to contain a whole family, if\nonly\u201d\u2014his voice lowered and trembled\u2014\u201cif only I knew where they were.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s face suffused, and, advancing a step, he cried, impulsively,\n\u201cMy mother and sister! Oh, it is of them you speak!\u201d\n\nEsther, as if spoken to, raised her head; but Simonides returned to his\ncalm, and answered, coldly, \u201cHear me to the end. Because I am that I\nam, and because of the loves of which I have spoken, before I make\nreturn to thy demand touching my relations to the Prince Hur, and as\nsomething which of right should come first, do thou show me proofs of\nwho thou art. Is thy witness in writing? Or cometh it in person?\u201d\n\nThe demand was plain, and the right of it indisputable. Ben-Hur\nblushed, clasped his hands, stammered, and turned away at loss.\nSimonides pressed him.\n\n\u201cThe proofs, the proofs, I say! Set them before me\u2014lay them in my\nhands!\u201d\n\nYet Ben-Hur had no answer. He had not anticipated the requirement; and,\nnow that it was made, to him as never before came the awful fact that\nthe three years in the galley had carried away all the proofs of his\nidentity; mother and sister gone, he did not live in the knowledge of\nany human being. Many there were acquainted with him, but that was all.\nHad Quintus Arrius been present, what could he have said more than\nwhere he found him, and that he believed the pretender to be the son of\nHur? But, as will presently appear in full, the brave Roman sailor was\ndead. Judah had felt the loneliness before; to the core of life the\nsense struck him now. He stood, hands clasped, face averted, in\nstupefaction. Simonides respected his suffering, and waited in silence.\n\n\u201cMaster Simonides,\u201d he said, at length, \u201cI can only tell my story; and\nI will not that unless you stay judgment so long, and with good-will\ndeign to hear me.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak,\u201d said Simonides, now, indeed, master of the situation\u2014\u201cspeak,\nand I will listen the more willingly that I have not denied you to be\nthe very person you claim yourself.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur proceeded then, and told his life hurriedly, yet with the\nfeeling which is the source of all eloquence; but as we are familiar\nwith it down to his landing at Misenum, in company with Arrius,\nreturned victorious from the \u00c6gean, at that point we will take up the\nwords.\n\n\u201cMy benefactor was loved and trusted by the emperor, who heaped him\nwith honorable rewards. The merchants of the East contributed\nmagnificent presents, and he became doubly rich among the rich of Rome.\nMay a Jew forget his religion? or his birthplace, if it were the Holy\nLand of our fathers? The good man adopted me his son by formal rites of\nlaw; and I strove to make him just return: no child was ever more\ndutiful to father than I to him. He would have had me a scholar; in\nart, philosophy, rhetoric, oratory, he would have furnished me the most\nfamous teacher. I declined his insistence, because I was a Jew, and\ncould not forget the Lord God, or the glory of the prophets, or the\ncity set on the hills by David and Solomon. Oh, ask you why I accepted\nany of the benefactions of the Roman? I loved him; next place, I\nthought with his help, array influences which would enable me one day\nto unseal the mystery close-locking the fate of my mother and sister;\nand to these there was yet another motive of which I shall not speak\nexcept to say it controlled me so far that I devoted myself to arms,\nand the acquisition of everything deemed essential to thorough\nknowledge of the art of war. In the palaestrae and circuses of the city\nI toiled, and in the camps no less; and in all of them I have a name,\nbut not that of my fathers. The crowns I won\u2014and on the walls of the\nvilla by Misenum there are many of them\u2014all came to me as the son of\nArrius, the duumvir. In that relation only am I known among Romans....\nIn steadfast pursuit of my secret aim, I left Rome for Antioch,\nintending to accompany the Consul Maxentius in the campaign he is\norganizing against the Parthians. Master of personal skill in all arms,\nI seek now the higher knowledge pertaining to the conduct of bodies of\nmen in the field. The consul has admitted me one of his military\nfamily. But yesterday, as our ship entered the Orontes, two other ships\nsailed in with us flying yellow flags. A fellow-passenger and\ncountryman from Cyprus explained that the vessels belonged to\nSimonides, the master-merchant of Antioch; he told us, also, who the\nmerchant was; his marvellous success in commerce; of his fleets and\ncaravans, and their coming and going; and, not knowing I had interest\nin the theme beyond my associate listeners, he said Simonides was a\nJew, once the servant of the Prince Hur; nor did he conceal the\ncruelties of Gratus, or the purpose of their infliction.\u201d\n\nAt this allusion Simonides bowed his head, and, as if to help him\nconceal his feelings and her own deep sympathy, the daughter hid her\nface on his neck. Directly he raised his eyes, and said, in a clear\nvoice, \u201cI am listening.\u201d\n\n\u201cO good Simonides!\u201d Ben-Hur then said, advancing a step, his whole soul\nseeking expression, \u201cI see thou art not convinced, and that yet I stand\nin the shadow of thy distrust.\u201d\n\nThe merchant held his features fixed as marble, and his tongue as\nstill.\n\n\u201cAnd not less clearly, I see the difficulties of my position,\u201d Ben-Hur\ncontinued. \u201cAll my Roman connection I can prove; I have only to call\nupon the consul, now the guest of the governor of the city; but I\ncannot prove the particulars of thy demand upon me. I cannot prove I am\nmy father\u2019s son. They who could serve me in that\u2014alas! they are dead or\nlost.\u201d\n\nHe covered his face with his hands; whereupon Esther arose, and, taking\nthe rejected cup to him, said, \u201cThe wine is of the country we all so\nlove. Drink, I pray thee!\u201d\n\nThe voice was sweet as that of Rebekah offering drink at the well near\nNahor the city; he saw there were tears in her eyes, and he drank,\nsaying, \u201cDaughter of Simonides, thy heart is full of goodness; and\nmerciful art thou to let the stranger share it with thy father. Be thou\nblessed of our God! I thank thee.\u201d\n\nThen he addressed himself to the merchant again:\n\n\u201cAs I have no proof that I am my father\u2019s son, I will withdraw that I\ndemanded of thee, O Simonides, and go hence to trouble you no more;\nonly let me say I did not seek thy return to servitude nor account of\nthy fortune; in any event, I would have said, as now I say, that all\nwhich is product of thy labor and genius is thine; keep it in welcome.\nI have no need of any part thereof. When the good Quintus, my second\nfather, sailed on the voyage which was his last, he left me his heir,\nprincely rich. If, therefore, thou dost think of me again, be it with\nremembrance of this question, which, as I do swear by the prophets and\nJehovah, thy God and mine, was the chief purpose of my coming here:\nWhat dost thou know\u2014what canst thou tell me\u2014of my mother and Tirzah, my\nsister\u2014she who should be in beauty and grace even as this one, thy\nsweetness of life, if not thy very life? Oh! what canst thou tell me of\nthem?\u201d\n\nThe tears ran down Esther\u2019s cheeks; but the man was wilful: in a clear\nvoice, he replied,\n\n\u201cI have said I knew the Prince Ben-Hur. I remember hearing of the\nmisfortune which overtook his family. I remember the bitterness with\nwhich I heard it. He who wrought such misery to the widow of my friend\nis the same who, in the same spirit, hath since wrought upon me. I will\ngo further, and say to you, I have made diligent quest concerning the\nfamily, but\u2014I have nothing to tell you of them. They are lost.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur uttered a great groan.\n\n\u201cThen\u2014then it is another hope broken!\u201d he said, struggling with his\nfeelings. \u201cI am used to disappointments. I pray you pardon my\nintrusion; and if I have occasioned you annoyance, forgive it because\nof my sorrow. I have nothing now to live for but vengeance. Farewell.\u201d\n\nAt the curtain he turned, and said, simply, \u201cI thank you both.\u201d\n\n\u201cPeace go with you,\u201d the merchant said.\n\nEsther could not speak for sobbing.\n\nAnd so he departed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nScarcely was Ben-Hur gone, when Simonides seemed to wake as from sleep:\nhis countenance flushed; the sullen light of his eyes changed to\nbrightness; and he said, cheerily,\n\n\u201cEsther, ring\u2014quick!\u201d\n\nShe went to the table, and rang a service-bell.\n\nOne of the panels in the wall swung back, exposing a doorway which gave\nadmittance to a man who passed round to the merchant\u2019s front, and\nsaluted him with a half-salaam.\n\n\u201cMalluch, here\u2014nearer\u2014to the chair,\u201d the master said, imperiously. \u201cI\nhave a mission which shall not fail though the sun should. Hearken! A\nyoung man is now descending to the store-room\u2014tall, comely, and in the\ngarb of Israel; follow him, his shadow not more faithful; and every\nnight send me report of where he is, what he does, and the company he\nkeeps; and if, without discovery, you overhear his conversations,\nreport them word for word, together with whatever will serve to expose\nhim, his habits, motives, life. Understand you? Go quickly! Stay,\nMalluch: if he leave the city, go after him\u2014and, mark you, Malluch, be\nas a friend. If he bespeak you, tell him what you will to the occasion\nmost suited, except that you are in my service, of that, not a word.\nHaste\u2014make haste!\u201d\n\nThe man saluted as before, and was gone.\n\nThen Simonides rubbed his wan hands together, and laughed.\n\n\u201cWhat is the day, daughter?\u201d he said, in the midst of the mood. \u201cWhat\nis the day? I wish to remember it for happiness come. See, and look for\nit laughing, and laughing tell me, Esther.\u201d\n\nThe merriment seemed unnatural to her; and, as if to entreat him from\nit, she answered, sorrowfully, \u201cWoe\u2019s me, father, that I should ever\nforget this day!\u201d\n\nHis hands fell down the instant, and his chin, dropping upon his\nbreast, lost itself in the muffling folds of flesh composing his lower\nface.\n\n\u201cTrue, most true, my daughter!\u201d he said, without looking up. \u201cThis is\nthe twentieth day of the fourth month. To-day, five years ago, my\nRachel, thy mother, fell down and died. They brought me home broken as\nthou seest me, and we found her dead of grief. Oh, to me she was a\ncluster of camphire in the vineyards of En-Gedi! I have gathered my\nmyrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey. We laid\nher away in a lonely place\u2014in a tomb cut in the mountain; no one near\nher. Yet in the darkness she left me a little light, which the years\nhave increased to a brightness of morning.\u201d He raised his hand and\nrested it upon his daughter\u2019s head. \u201cDear Lord, I thank thee that now\nin my Esther my lost Rachel liveth again!\u201d\n\nDirectly he lifted his head, and said, as with a sudden thought, \u201cIs it\nnot clear day outside?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was, when the young man came in.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen let Abimelech come and take me to the garden, where I can see the\nriver and the ships, and I will tell thee, dear Esther, why but now my\nmouth filled with laughter, and my tongue with singing, and my spirit\nwas like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.\u201d\n\nIn answer to the bell a servant came, and at her bidding pushed the\nchair, set on little wheels for the purpose, out of the room to the\nroof of the lower house, called by him his garden. Out through the\nroses, and by beds of lesser flowers, all triumphs of careful\nattendance, but now unnoticed, he was rolled to a position from which\nhe could view the palace-tops over against him on the island, the\nbridge in lessening perspective to the farther shore, and the river\nbelow the bridge crowded with vessels, all swimming amidst the dancing\nsplendors of the early sun upon the rippling water. There the servant\nleft him with Esther.\n\nThe much shouting of laborers, and their beating and pounding, did not\ndisturb him any more than the tramping of people on the bridge floor\nalmost overhead, being as familiar to his ear as the view before him to\nhis eye, and therefore unnoticeable, except as suggestions of profits\nin promise.\n\nEsther sat on the arm of the chair nursing his hand, and waiting his\nspeech, which came at length in the calm way, the mighty will having\ncarried him back to himself.\n\n\u201cWhen the young man was speaking, Esther, I observed thee, and thought\nthou wert won by him.\u201d\n\nHer eyes fell as she replied,\n\n\u201cSpeak you of faith, father, I believed him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn thy eyes, then, he is the lost son of the Prince Hur?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf he is not\u2014\u201d She hesitated.\n\n\u201cAnd if he is not, Esther?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have been thy handmaiden, father, since my mother answered the call\nof the Lord God; by thy side I have heard and seen thee deal in wise\nways with all manner of men seeking profit, holy and unholy; and now I\nsay, if indeed the young man be not the prince he claims to be, then\nbefore me falsehood never played so well the part of righteous truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the glory of Solomon, daughter, thou speakest earnestly. Dost thou\nbelieve thy father his father\u2019s servant?\u201d\n\n\u201cI understood him to ask of that as something he had but heard.\u201d\n\nFor a time Simonides\u2019 gaze swam among his swimming ships, though they\nhad no place in his mind.\n\n\u201cWell, thou art a good child, Esther, of genuine Jewish shrewdness, and\nof years and strength to hear a sorrowful tale. Wherefore give me heed,\nand I will tell you of myself, and of thy mother, and of many things\npertaining to the past not in thy knowledge or thy dreams\u2014things\nwithheld from the persecuting Romans for a hope\u2019s sake, and from thee\nthat thy nature should grow towards the Lord straight as the reed to\nthe sun.... I was born in a tomb in the valley of Hinnom, on the south\nside of Zion. My father and mother were Hebrew bond-servants, tenders\nof the fig and olive trees growing, with many vines, in the King\u2019s\nGarden hard by Siloam; and in my boyhood I helped them. They were of\nthe class bound to serve forever. They sold me to the Prince Hur, then,\nnext to Herod the King, the richest man in Jerusalem. From the garden\nhe transferred me to his storehouse in Alexandria of Egypt, where I\ncame of age. I served him six years, and in the seventh, by the law of\nMoses, I went free.\u201d\n\nEsther clapped her hands lightly.\n\n\u201cOh, then, thou art not his father\u2019s servant!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, daughter, hear. Now, in those days there were lawyers in the\ncloisters of the Temple who disputed vehemently, saying the children of\nservants bound forever took the condition of their parents; but the\nPrince Hur was a man righteous in all things, and an interpreter of the\nlaw after the straitest sect, though not of them. He said I was a\nHebrew servant bought, in the true meaning of the great lawgiver, and,\nby sealed writings, which I yet have, he set me free.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my mother?\u201d Esther asked.\n\n\u201cThou shalt hear all, Esther; be patient. Before I am through thou\nshalt see it were easier for me to forget myself than thy mother.... At\nthe end of my service, I came up to Jerusalem to the Passover. My\nmaster entertained me. I was in love with him already, and I prayed to\nbe continued in his service. He consented, and I served him yet another\nseven years, but as a hired son of Israel. In his behalf I had charge\nof ventures on the sea by ships, and of ventures on land by caravans\neastward to Susa and Persepolis, and the lands of silk beyond them.\nPerilous passages were they, my daughter; but the Lord blessed all I\nundertook. I brought home vast gains for the prince, and richer\nknowledge for myself, without which I could not have mastered the\ncharges since fallen to me.... One day I was a guest in his house in\nJerusalem. A servant entered with some sliced bread on a platter. She\ncame to me first. It was then I saw thy mother, and loved her, and took\nher away in my secret heart. After a while a time came when I sought\nthe prince to make her my wife. He told me she was bond-servant\nforever; but if she wished, he would set her free that I might be\ngratified. She gave me love for love, but was happy where she was, and\nrefused her freedom. I prayed and besought, going again and again after\nlong intervals. She would be my wife, she all the time said, if I would\nbecome her fellow in servitude. Our father Jacob served yet other seven\nyears for his Rachel. Could I not as much for mine? But thy mother said\nI must become as she, to serve forever. I came away, but went back.\nLook, Esther, look here.\u201d\n\nHe pulled out the lobe of his left ear.\n\n\u201cSee you not the scar of the awl?\u201d\n\n\u201cI see it,\u201d she said; \u201cand, oh, I see how thou didst love my mother!\u201d\n\n\u201cLove her, Esther! She was to me more than the Shulamite to the singing\nking, fairer, more spotless; a fountain of gardens, a well of living\nwaters, and streams from Lebanon. The master, even as I required him,\ntook me to the judges, and back to his door, and thrust the awl through\nmy ear into the door, and I was his servant forever. So I won my\nRachel. And was ever love like mine?\u201d\n\nEsther stooped and kissed him, and they were silent, thinking of the\ndead.\n\n\u201cMy master was drowned at sea, the first sorrow that ever fell upon\nme,\u201d the merchant continued. \u201cThere was mourning in his house, and in\nmine here in Antioch, my abiding-place at the time. Now, Esther, mark\nyou! When the good prince was lost, I had risen to be his chief\nsteward, with everything of property belonging to him in my management\nand control. Judge you how much he loved and trusted me! I hastened to\nJerusalem to render account to the widow. She continued me in the\nstewardship. I applied myself with greater diligence. The business\nprospered, and grew year by year. Ten years passed; then came the blow\nwhich you heard the young man tell about\u2014the accident, as he called it,\nto the Procurator Gratus. The Roman gave it out an attempt to\nassassinate him. Under that pretext, by leave from Rome, he confiscated\nto his own use the immense fortune of the widow and children. Nor\nstopped he there. That there might be no reversal of the judgment, he\nremoved all the parties interested. From that dreadful day to this the\nfamily of Hur have been lost. The son, whom I had seen as a child, was\nsentenced to the galleys. The widow and daughter are supposed to have\nbeen buried in some of the many dungeons of Judea, which, once closed\nupon the doomed, are like sepulchers sealed and locked. They passed\nfrom the knowledge of men as utterly as if the sea had swallowed them\nunseen. We could not hear how they died\u2014nay, not even that they were\ndead.\u201d\n\nEsther\u2019s eyes were dewy with tears.\n\n\u201cThy heart is good, Esther, good as thy mother\u2019s was; and I pray it\nhave not the fate of most good hearts\u2014to be trampled upon by the\nunmerciful and blind. But hearken further. I went up to Jerusalem to\ngive help to my benefactress, and was seized at the gate of the city\nand carried to the sunken cells of the Tower of Antonia; why, I knew\nnot, until Gratus himself came and demanded of me the moneys of the\nHouse of Hur, which he knew, after our Jewish custom of exchange, were\nsubject to my draft in the different marts of the world. He required me\nto sign to his order. I refused. He had the houses, lands, goods,\nships, and movable property of those I served; he had not their moneys.\nI saw, if I kept favor in the sight of the Lord, I could rebuild their\nbroken fortunes. I refused the tyrant\u2019s demands. He put me to torture;\nmy will held good, and he set me free, nothing gained. I came home and\nbegan again, in the name of Simonides of Antioch, instead of the Prince\nHur of Jerusalem. Thou knowest, Esther, how I have prospered; that the\nincrease of the millions of the prince in my hands was miraculous; thou\nknowest how, at the end of three years, while going up to C\u00e6sarea, I\nwas taken and a second time tortured by Gratus to compel a confession\nthat my goods and moneys were subject to his order of confiscation;\nthou knowest he failed as before. Broken in body, I came home and found\nmy Rachel dead of fear and grief for me. The Lord our God reigned, and\nI lived. From the emperor himself I bought immunity and license to\ntrade throughout the world. To-day\u2014praised be He who maketh the clouds\nhis chariot and walketh upon the winds!\u2014to-day, Esther, that which was\nin my hands for stewardship is multiplied into talents sufficient to\nenrich a C\u00e6sar.\u201d\n\nHe lifted his head proudly; their eyes met; each read the other\u2019s\nthought. \u201cWhat shall I with the treasure, Esther?\u201d he asked, without\nlowering his gaze.\n\n\u201cMy father,\u201d she answered, in a low voice, \u201cdid not the rightful owner\ncall for it but now?\u201d\n\nStill his look did not fail.\n\n\u201cAnd thou, my child; shall I leave thee a beggar?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, father, am not I, because I am thy child, his bond-servant? And\nof whom was it written, \u2018Strength and honor are her clothing, and she\nshall rejoice in time to come?\u2019\u201d\n\nA gleam of ineffable love lighted his face as he said, \u201cThe Lord hath\nbeen good to me in many ways; but thou, Esther, art the sovereign\nexcellence of his favor.\u201d\n\nHe drew her to his breast and kissed her many times.\n\n\u201cHear now,\u201d he said, with clearer voice\u2014\u201chear now why I laughed this\nmorning. The young man faced me the apparition of his father in comely\nyouth. My spirit arose to salute him. I felt my trial-days were over\nand my labors ended. Hardly could I keep from crying out. I longed to\ntake him by the hand and show the balance I had earned, and say, \u2018Lo,\n\u2019tis all thine! and I am thy servant, ready now to be called away.\u2019 And\nso I would have done, Esther, so I would have done, but that moment\nthree thoughts rushed to restrain me. I will be sure he is my master\u2019s\nson\u2014such was the first thought; if he is my master\u2019s son, I will learn\nsomewhat of his nature. Of those born to riches, bethink you, Esther,\nhow many there are in whose hands riches are but breeding curses\u201d\u2014he\npaused, while his hands clutched, and his voice shrilled with\npassion\u2014\u201cEsther, consider the pains I endured at the Roman\u2019s hands;\nnay, not Gratus\u2019s alone: the merciless wretches who did his bidding the\nfirst time and the last were Romans, and they all alike laughed to hear\nme scream. Consider my broken body, and the years I have gone shorn of\nmy stature; consider thy mother yonder in her lonely tomb, crushed of\nsoul as I of body; consider the sorrows of my master\u2019s family if they\nare living, and the cruelty of their taking-off if they are dead;\nconsider all, and, with Heaven\u2019s love about thee, tell me, daughter,\nshall not a hair fall or a red drop run in expiation? Tell me not, as\nthe preachers sometimes do\u2014tell me not that vengeance is the Lord\u2019s.\nDoes he not work his will harmfully as well as in love by agencies? Has\nhe not his men of war more numerous than his prophets? Is not his the\nlaw, Eye for eye, hand for hand, foot for foot? Oh, in all these years\nI have dreamed of vengeance, and prayed and provided for it, and\ngathered patience from the growing of my store, thinking and promising,\nas the Lord liveth, it will one day buy me punishment of the\nwrong-doers? And when, speaking of his practise with arms, the young\nman said it was for a nameless purpose, I named the purpose even as he\nspoke\u2014vengeance! and that, Esther, that it was\u2014the third thought which\nheld me still and hard while his pleading lasted, and made me laugh\nwhen he was gone.\u201d\n\nEsther caressed the faded hands, and said, as if her spirit with his\nwere running forward to results, \u201cHe is gone. Will he come again?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, Malluch the faithful goes with him, and will bring him back when I\nam ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd when will that be, father?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot long, not long. He thinks all his witnesses dead. There is one\nliving who will not fail to know him, if he be indeed my master\u2019s son.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, daughter, I will set the witness before him; till then let us\nrest the business with the Lord. I am tired. Call Abimelech.\u201d\n\nEsther called the servant, and they returned into the house.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nWhen Ben-Hur sallied from the great warehouse, it was with the thought\nthat another failure was to be added to the many he had already met in\nthe quest for his people; and the idea was depressing exactly in\nproportion as the objects of his quest were dear to him; it curtained\nhim round about with a sense of utter loneliness on earth, which, more\nthan anything else, serves to eke from a soul cast down its remaining\ninterest in life.\n\nThrough the people, and the piles of goods, he made way to the edge of\nthe landing, and was tempted by the cool shadows darkening the river\u2019s\ndepth. The lazy current seemed to stop and wait for him. In\ncounteraction of the spell, the saying of the voyager flashed into\nmemory\u2014\u201cBetter be a worm, and feed upon the mulberries of Daphne, than\na king\u2019s guest.\u201d He turned, and walked rapidly down the landing and\nback to the khan.\n\n\u201cThe road to Daphne!\u201d the steward said, surprised at the question\nBen-Hur put to him. \u201cYou have not been here before? Well, count this\nthe happiest day of your life. You cannot mistake the road. The next\nstreet to the left, going south, leads straight to Mount Sulpius,\ncrowned by the altar of Jupiter and the Amphitheater; keep it to the\nthird cross street, known as Herod\u2019s Colonnade; turn to your right\nthere, and hold the way through the old city of Seleucus to the bronze\ngates of Epiphanes. There the road to Daphne begins\u2014and may the gods\nkeep you!\u201d\n\nA few directions respecting his baggage, and Ben-Hur set out.\n\nThe Colonnade of Herod was easily found; thence to the brazen gates,\nunder a continuous marble portico, he passed with a multitude mixed of\npeople from all the trading nations of the earth.\n\nIt was about the fourth hour of the day when he passed out the gate,\nand found himself one of a procession apparently interminable, moving\nto the famous Grove. The road was divided into separate ways for\nfootmen, for men on horses, and men in chariots; and those again into\nseparate ways for outgoers and incomers. The lines of division were\nguarded by low balustrading, broken by massive pedestals, many of which\nwere surmounted with statuary. Right and left of the road extended\nmargins of sward perfectly kept, relieved at intervals by groups of oak\nand sycamore trees, and vine-clad summer-houses for the accommodation\nof the weary, of whom, on the return side, there were always\nmultitudes. The ways of the footmen were paved with red stone, and\nthose of the riders strewn with white sand compactly rolled, but not so\nsolid as to give back an echo to hoof or wheel. The number and variety\nof fountains at play were amazing, all gifts of visiting kings, and\ncalled after them. Out southwest to the gates of the Grove, the\nmagnificent thoroughfare stretched a little over four miles from the\ncity.\n\nIn his wretchedness of feeling, Ben-Hur barely observed the royal\nliberality which marked the construction of the road. Nor more did he\nat first notice the crowd going with him. He treated the processional\ndisplays with like indifference. To say truth, besides his\nself-absorption, he had not a little of the complacency of a Roman\nvisiting the provinces fresh from the ceremonies which daily eddied\nround and round the golden pillar set up by Augustus as the centre of\nthe world. It was not possible for the provinces to offer anything new\nor superior. He rather availed himself of every opportunity to push\nforward through the companies in the way, and too slow-going for his\nimpatience. By the time he reached Heracleia, a suburban village\nintermediate the city and the Grove, he was somewhat spent with\nexercise, and began to be susceptible of entertainment. Once a pair of\ngoats led by a beautiful woman, woman and goats alike brilliant with\nribbons and flowers, attracted his attention. Then he stopped to look\nat a bull of mighty girth, and snowy white, covered with vines freshly\ncut, and bearing on its broad back a naked child in a basket, the image\nof a young Bacchus, squeezing the juice of ripened berries into a\ngoblet, and drinking with libational formulas. As he resumed his walk,\nhe wondered whose altars would be enriched by the offerings. A horse\nwent by with clipped mane, after the fashion of the time, his rider\nsuperbly dressed. He smiled to observe the harmony of pride between the\nman and the brute. Often after that he turned his head at hearing the\nrumble of wheels and the dull thud of hoofs; unconsciously he was\nbecoming interested in the styles of chariots and charioteers, as they\nrustled past him going and coming. Nor was it long until he began to\nmake notes of the people around him. He saw they were of all ages,\nsexes, and conditions, and all in holiday attire. One company was\nuniformed in white, another in black; some bore flags, some smoking\ncensers; some went slowly, singing hymns; others stepped to the music\nof flutes and tabrets. If such were the going to Daphne every day in\nthe year, what a wondrous sight Daphne must be! At last there was a\nclapping of hands, and a burst of joyous cries; following the pointing\nof many fingers, he looked and saw upon the brow of a hill the templed\ngate of the consecrated Grove. The hymns swelled to louder strains; the\nmusic quickened time; and, borne along by the impulsive current, and\nsharing the common eagerness, he passed in, and, Romanized in taste as\nhe was, fell to worshiping the place.\n\nRearward of the structure which graced the entrance-way\u2014a purely\nGrecian pile\u2014he stood upon a broad esplanade paved with polished stone;\naround him a restless exclamatory multitude, in gayest colors, relieved\nagainst the iridescent spray flying crystal-white from fountains;\nbefore him, off to the southwest, dustless paths radiated out into a\ngarden, and beyond that into a forest, over which rested a veil of\npale-blue vapor. Ben-Hur gazed wistfully, uncertain where to go. A\nwoman that moment exclaimed,\n\n\u201cBeautiful! But where to now?\u201d\n\nHer companion, wearing a chaplet of bays, laughed and answered, \u201cGo to,\nthou pretty barbarian! The question implies an earthly fear; and did we\nnot agree to leave all such behind in Antioch with the rusty earth? The\nwinds which blow here are respirations of the gods. Let us give\nourselves to waftage of the winds.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut if we should get lost?\u201d\n\n\u201cO thou timid! No one was ever lost in Daphne, except those on whom her\ngates close forever.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who are they?\u201d she asked, still fearful.\n\n\u201cSuch as have yielded to the charms of the place and chosen it for life\nand death. Hark! Stand we here, and I will show you of whom I speak.\u201d\n\nUpon the marble pavement there was a scurry of sandalled feet; the\ncrowd opened, and a party of girls rushed about the speaker and his\nfair friend, and began singing and dancing to the tabrets they\nthemselves touched. The woman, scared, clung to the man, who put an arm\nabout her, and, with kindled face, kept time to the music with the\nother hand overhead. The hair of the dancers floated free, and their\nlimbs blushed through the robes of gauze which scarcely draped them.\nWords may not be used to tell of the voluptuousness of the dance. One\nbrief round, and they darted off through the yielding crowd lightly as\nthey had come.\n\n\u201cNow what think you?\u201d cried the man to the woman.\n\n\u201cWho are they?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cDevadasi\u2014priestesses devoted to the Temple of Apollo. There is an army\nof them. They make the chorus in celebrations. This is their home.\nSometimes they wander off to other cities, but all they make is brought\nhere to enrich the house of the divine musician. Shall we go now?\u201d\n\nNext minute the two were gone.\n\nBen-Hur took comfort in the assurance that no one was ever lost in\nDaphne, and he, too, set out\u2014where, he knew not.\n\nA sculpture reared upon a beautiful pedestal in the garden attracted\nhim first. It proved to be the statue of a centaur. An inscription\ninformed the unlearned visitor that it exactly represented Chiron, the\nbeloved of Apollo and Diana, instructed by them in the mysteries of\nhunting, medicine, music, and prophecy. The inscription also bade the\nstranger look out at a certain part of the heavens, at a certain hour\nof the clear night, and he would behold the dead alive among the stars,\nwhither Jupiter had transferred the good genius.\n\nThe wisest of the centaurs continued, nevertheless, in the service of\nmankind. In his hand he held a scroll, on which, graven in Greek, were\nparagraphs of a notice:\n\n\u201cO Traveller!\n\u201cArt thou a stranger?\n\n\n\u201cI. Hearken to the singing of the brooks, and fear not the rain of the\nfountains; so will the Naiades learn to love thee.\n\n\u201cII. The invited breezes of Daphne are Zephyrus and Auster; gentle\nministers of life, they will gather sweets for thee; when Eurus blows,\nDiana is elsewhere hunting; when Boreas blusters, go hide, for Apollo\nis angry.\n\n\u201cIII. The shades of the Grove are thine in the day; at night they\nbelong to Pan and his Dryades. Disturb them not.\n\n\u201cIV. Eat of the Lotus by the brooksides sparingly, unless thou wouldst\nhave surcease of memory, which is to become a child of Daphne.\n\n\u201cV. Walk thou round the weaving spider\u2014\u2019tis Arachne at work for\nMinerva.\n\n\u201cVI. Wouldst thou behold the tears of Daphne, break but a bud from a\nlaurel bough\u2014and die.\n\n\u201cHeed thou!\n\u201cAnd stay and be happy.\u201d\n\n\nBen-Hur left the interpretation of the mystic notice to others fast\nenclosing him, and turned away as the white bull was led by. The boy\nsat in the basket, followed by a procession; after them again, the\nwoman with the goats; and behind her the flute and tabret players, and\nanother procession of gift-bringers.\n\n\u201cWhither go they?\u201d asked a bystander.\n\nAnother made answer, \u201cThe bull to Father Jove; the goat\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cDid not Apollo once keep the flocks of Admetus?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, the goat to Apollo!\u201d\n\nThe goodness of the reader is again besought in favor of an\nexplanation. A certain facility of accommodation in the matter of\nreligion comes to us after much intercourse with people of a different\nfaith; gradually we attain the truth that every creed is illustrated by\ngood men who are entitled to our respect, but whom we cannot respect\nwithout courtesy to their creed. To this point Ben-Hur had arrived.\nNeither the years in Rome nor those in the galley had made any\nimpression upon his religious faith; he was yet a Jew. In his view,\nnevertheless, it was not an impiety to look for the beautiful in the\nGrove of Daphne.\n\nThe remark does not interdict the further saying, if his scruples had\nbeen ever so extreme, not improbably he would at this time have\nsmothered them. He was angry; not as the irritable, from chafing of a\ntrifle; nor was his anger like the fool\u2019s, pumped from the wells of\nnothing, to be dissipated by a reproach or a curse; it was the wrath\npeculiar to ardent natures rudely awakened by the sudden annihilation\nof a hope\u2014dream, if you will\u2014in which the choicest happinesses were\nthought to be certainly in reach. In such case nothing intermediate\nwill carry off the passion\u2014the quarrel is with Fate.\n\nLet us follow the philosophy a little further, and say to ourselves, it\nwere well in such quarrels if Fate were something tangible, to be\ndespatched with a look or a blow, or a speaking personage with whom\nhigh words were possible; then the unhappy mortal would not always end\nthe affair by punishing himself.\n\nIn ordinary mood, Ben-Hur would not have come to the Grove alone, or,\ncoming alone, he would have availed himself of his position in the\nconsul\u2019s family, and made provision against wandering idly about,\nunknowing and unknown; he would have had all the points of interest in\nmind, and gone to them under guidance, as in the despatch of business;\nor, wishing to squander days of leisure in the beautiful place, he\nwould have had in hand a letter to the master of it all, whoever he\nmight be. This would have made him a sightseer, like the shouting herd\nhe was accompanying; whereas he had no reverence for the deities of the\nGrove, nor curiosity; a man in the blindness of bitter disappointment,\nhe was adrift, not waiting for Fate, but seeking it as a desperate\nchallenger.\n\nEvery one has known this condition of mind, though perhaps not all in\nthe same degree; every one will recognize it as the condition in which\nhe has done brave things with apparent serenity; and every one reading\nwill say, Fortunate for Ben-Hur if the folly which now catches him is\nbut a friendly harlequin with whistle and painted cap, and not some\nViolence with a pointed sword pitiless.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nBen-Hur entered the woods with the processions. He had not interest\nenough at first to ask where they were going; yet, to relieve him from\nabsolute indifference, he had a vague impression that they were in\nmovement to the temples, which were the central objects of the Grove,\nsupreme in attractions.\n\nPresently, as singers dreamfully play with a flitting chorus, he began\nrepeating to himself, \u201cBetter be a worm, and feed on the mulberries of\nDaphne, than a king\u2019s guest.\u201d Then of the much repetition arose\nquestions importunate of answer. Was life in the Grove so very sweet?\nWherein was the charm? Did it lie in some tangled depth of philosophy?\nOr was it something in fact, something on the surface, discernible to\nevery-day wakeful senses? Every year thousands, forswearing the world,\ngave themselves to service here. Did they find the charm? And was it\nsufficient, when found, to induce forgetfulness profound enough to shut\nout of mind the infinitely diverse things of life? those that sweeten\nand those that embitter? hopes hovering in the near future as well as\nsorrows born of the past? If the Grove were so good for them, why\nshould it not be good for him? He was a Jew; could it be that the\nexcellences were for all the world but children of Abraham? Forthwith\nhe bent all his faculties to the task of discovery, unmindful of the\nsinging of the gift-bringers and the quips of his associates.\n\nIn the quest, the sky yielded him nothing; it was blue, very blue, and\nfull of twittering swallows\u2014so was the sky over the city.\n\nFurther on, out of the woods at his right hand, a breeze poured across\nthe road, splashing him with a wave of sweet smells, blent of roses and\nconsuming spices. He stopped, as did others, looking the way the breeze\ncame.\n\n\u201cA garden over there?\u201d he said, to a man at his elbow.\n\n\u201cRather some priestly ceremony in performance\u2014something to Diana, or\nPan, or a deity of the woods.\u201d\n\nThe answer was in his mother tongue. Ben-Hur gave the speaker a\nsurprised look.\n\n\u201cA Hebrew?\u201d he asked him.\n\nThe man replied with a deferential smile,\n\n\u201cI was born within a stone\u2019s-throw of the market-place in Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur was proceeding to further speech, when the crowd surged\nforward, thrusting him out on the side of the walk next the woods, and\ncarrying the stranger away. The customary gown and staff, a brown cloth\non the head tied by a yellow rope, and a strong Judean face to avouch\nthe garments of honest right, remained in the young man\u2019s mind, a kind\nof summary of the man.\n\nThis took place at a point where a path into the woods began, offering\na happy escape from the noisy processions. Ben-Hur availed himself of\nthe offer.\n\nHe walked first into a thicket which, from the road, appeared in a\nstate of nature, close, impenetrable, a nesting-place for wild birds. A\nfew steps, however, gave him to see the master\u2019s hand even there. The\nshrubs were flowering or fruit-bearing; under the bending branches the\nground was pranked with brightest blooms; over them the jasmine\nstretched its delicate bonds. From lilac and rose, and lily and tulip,\nfrom oleander and strawberry-tree, all old friends in the gardens of\nthe valleys about the city of David, the air, lingering or in haste,\nloaded itself with exhalations day and night; and that nothing might be\nwanting to the happiness of the nymphs and naiads, down through the\nflower-lighted shadows of the mass a brook went its course gently, and\nby many winding ways.\n\nOut of the thicket, as he proceeded, on his right and left, issued the\ncry of the pigeon and the cooing of turtle-doves; blackbirds waited for\nhim, and bided his coming close; a nightingale kept its place fearless,\nthough he passed in arm\u2019s-length; a quail ran before him at his feet,\nwhistling to the brood she was leading, and as he paused for them to\nget out of his way, a figure crawled from a bed of honeyed musk\nbrilliant with balls of golden blossoms. Ben-Hur was startled. Had he,\nindeed, been permitted to see a satyr at home? The creature looked up\nat him, and showed in its teeth a hooked pruning-knife; he smiled at\nhis own scare, and, lo! the charm was evolved! Peace without fear\u2014peace\na universal condition\u2014that it was!\n\nHe sat upon the ground beneath a citron-tree, which spread its gray\nroots sprawling to receive a branch of the brook. The nest of a\ntitmouse hung close to the bubbling water, and the tiny creature looked\nout of the door of the nest into his eyes. \u201cVerily, the bird is\ninterpreting to me,\u201d he thought. \u201cIt says, \u2018I am not afraid of you, for\nthe law of this happy place is Love.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe charm of the Grove seemed plain to him; he was glad, and determined\nto render himself one of the lost in Daphne. In charge of the flowers\nand shrubs, and watching the growth of all the dumb excellences\neverywhere to be seen, could not he, like the man with the\npruning-knife in his mouth, forego the days of his troubled life\u2014forego\nthem forgetting and forgotten?\n\nBut by-and-by his Jewish nature began to stir within him.\n\nThe charm might be sufficient for some people. Of what kind were they?\n\nLove is delightful\u2014ah! how pleasant as a successor to wretchedness like\nhis. But was it all there was of life? All?\n\nThere was an unlikeness between him and those who buried themselves\ncontentedly here. They had no duties\u2014they could not have had; but he\u2014\n\n\u201cGod of Israel!\u201d he cried aloud, springing to his feet, with burning\ncheeks\u2014\u201cMother! Tirzah! Cursed be the moment, cursed the place, in\nwhich I yield myself happy in your loss!\u201d\n\nHe hurried away through the thicket, and came to a stream flowing with\nthe volume of a river between banks of masonry, broken at intervals by\ngated sluiceways. A bridge carried the path he was traversing across\nthe stream; and, standing upon it, he saw other bridges, no two of them\nalike. Under him the water was lying in a deep pool, clear as a shadow;\ndown a little way it tumbled with a roar over rocks; then there was\nanother pool, and another cascade; and so on, out of view; and bridges\nand pools and resounding cascades said, plainly as inarticulate things\ncan tell a story, the river was running by permission of a master,\nexactly as the master would have it, tractable as became a servant of\nthe gods.\n\nForward from the bridge he beheld a landscape of wide valleys and\nirregular heights, with groves and lakes and fanciful houses linked\ntogether by white paths and shining streams. The valleys were spread\nbelow, that the river might be poured upon them for refreshment in days\nof drought, and they were as green carpets figured with beds and fields\nof flowers, and flecked with flocks of sheep white as balls of snow;\nand the voices of shepherds following the flocks were heard afar. As if\nto tell him of the pious inscription of all he beheld, the altars out\nunder the open sky seemed countless, each with a white-gowned figure\nattending it, while processions in white went slowly hither and thither\nbetween them; and the smoke of the altars half-risen hung collected in\npale clouds over the devoted places.\n\nHere, there, happy in flight, intoxicated in pause, from object to\nobject, point to point, now in the meadow, now on the heights, now\nlingering to penetrate the groves and observe the processions, then\nlost in efforts to pursue the paths and streams which trended mazily\ninto dim perspectives to end finally in\u2014 Ah, what might be a fitting\nend to scene so beautiful! What adequate mysteries were hidden behind\nan introduction so marvellous! Here and there, the speech was\nbeginning, his gaze wandered, so he could not help the conviction,\nforced by the view, and as the sum of it all, that there was peace in\nthe air and on the earth, and invitation everywhere to come and lie\ndown here and be at rest.\n\nSuddenly a revelation dawned upon him\u2014the Grove was, in fact, a\ntemple\u2014one far-reaching, wall-less temple!\n\nNever anything like it!\n\nThe architect had not stopped to pother about columns and porticos,\nproportions or interiors, or any limitation upon the epic he sought to\nmaterialize; he had simply made a servant of Nature\u2014art can go no\nfurther. So the cunning son of Jupiter and Callisto built the old\nArcadia; and in this, as in that, the genius was Greek.\n\nFrom the bridge Ben-Hur went forward into the nearest valley.\n\nHe came to a flock of sheep. The shepherd was a girl, and she beckoned\nhim, \u201cCome!\u201d\n\nFarther on, the path was divided by an altar\u2014a pedestal of black\ngneiss, capped with a slab of white marble deftly foliated, and on that\na brazier of bronze holding a fire. Close by it, a woman, seeing him,\nwaved a wand of willow, and as he passed called him, \u201cStay!\u201d And the\ntemptation in her smile was that of passionate youth.\n\nOn yet further, he met one of the processions; at its head a troop of\nlittle girls, nude except as they were covered with garlands, piped\ntheir shrill voices into a song; then a troop of boys, also nude, their\nbodies deeply sun-browned, came dancing to the song of the girls;\nbehind them the procession, all women, bearing baskets of spices and\nsweets to the altars\u2014women clad in simple robes, careless of exposure.\nAs he went by they held their hands to him, and said, \u201cStay, and go\nwith us.\u201d One, a Greek, sang a verse from Anacreon:\n\n\u201cFor to-day I take or give;\nFor to-day I drink and live;\nFor to-day I beg or borrow;\nWho knows about the silent morrow?\u201d\n\n\nBut he pursued his way indifferent, and came next to a grove luxuriant,\nin the heart of the vale at the point where it would be most attractive\nto the observing eye. As it came close to the path he was travelling,\nthere was a seduction in its shade, and through the foliage he caught\nthe shining of what appeared a pretentious statue; so he turned aside,\nand entered the cool retreat.\n\nThe grass was fresh and clean. The trees did not crowd each other; and\nthey were of every kind native to the East, blended well with strangers\nadopted from far quarters; here grouped in exclusive companionship\npalm-trees plumed like queens; there sycamores, overtopping laurels of\ndarker foliage; and evergreen oaks rising verdantly, with cedars vast\nenough to be kings on Lebanon; and mulberries; and terebinths so\nbeautiful it is not hyperbole to speak of them as blown from the\norchards of Paradise.\n\nThe statue proved to be a Daphne of wondrous beauty. Hardly, however,\nhad he time to more than glance at her face: at the base of the\npedestal a girl and a youth were lying upon a tiger\u2019s skin asleep in\neach other\u2019s arms; close by them the implements of their service\u2014his\naxe and sickle, her basket\u2014flung carelessly upon a heap of fading\nroses.\n\nThe exposure startled him. Back in the hush of the perfumed thicket he\ndiscovered, as he thought, that the charm of the great Grove was peace\nwithout fear, and almost yielded to it; now, in this sleep in the day\u2019s\nbroad glare\u2014this sleep at the feet of Daphne\u2014he read a further chapter\nto which only the vaguest allusion is sufferable. The law of the place\nwas Love, but Love without Law.\n\nAnd this was the sweet peace of Daphne!\n\nThis the life\u2019s end of her ministers!\n\nFor this kings and princes gave of their revenues!\n\nFor this a crafty priesthood subordinated nature\u2014her birds and brooks\nand lilies, the river, the labor of many hands, the sanctity of altars,\nthe fertile power of the sun!\n\nIt would be pleasant now to record that as Ben-Hur pursued his walk\nassailed by such reflections, he yielded somewhat to sorrow for the\nvotaries of the great outdoor temple; especially for those who, by\npersonal service, kept it in a state so surpassingly lovely. How they\ncame to the condition was not any longer a mystery; the motive, the\ninfluence, the inducement, were before him. Some there were, no doubt,\ncaught by the promise held out to their troubled spirits of endless\npeace in a consecrated abode, to the beauty of which, if they had not\nmoney, they could contribute their labor; this class implied intellect\npeculiarly subject to hope and fear; but the great body of the faithful\ncould not be classed with such. Apollo\u2019s nets were wide, and their\nmeshes small; and hardly may one tell what all his fishermen landed:\nthis less for that they cannot be described than because they ought not\nto be. Enough that the mass were of the sybarites of the world, and of\nthe herds in number vaster and in degree lower\u2014devotees of the unmixed\nsensualism to which the East was almost wholly given. Not to any of the\nexaltations\u2014not to the singing-god, or his unhappy mistress; not to any\nphilosophy requiring for its enjoyment the calm of retirement, nor to\nany service for the comfort there is in religion, nor to love in its\nholier sense\u2014were they abiding their vows. Good reader, why shall not\nthe truth be told here? Why not learn that, at this age, there were in\nall earth but two peoples capable of exaltations of the kind referred\nto\u2014those who lived by the law of Moses, and those who lived by the law\nof Brahma. They alone could have cried you, Better a law without love\nthan a love without law.\n\nBesides that, sympathy is in great degree a result of the mood we are\nin at the moment: anger forbids the emotion. On the other hand, it is\neasiest taken on when we are in a state of most absolute\nself-satisfaction. Ben-Hur walked with a quicker step, holding his head\nhigher; and, while not less sensitive to the delightfulness of all\nabout him, he made his survey with calmer spirit, though sometimes with\ncurling lip; that is to say, he could not so soon forget how nearly he\nhimself had been imposed upon.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nIn front of Ben-Hur there was a forest of cypress-trees, each a column\ntall and straight as a mast. Venturing into the shady precinct, he\nheard a trumpet gayly blown, and an instant after saw lying upon the\ngrass close by the countryman whom he had run upon in the road going to\nthe temples. The man arose, and came to him.\n\n\u201cI give you peace again,\u201d he said, pleasantly.\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d Ben-Hur replied, then asked, \u201cGo you my way?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am for the stadium, if that is your way.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe stadium!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. The trumpet you heard but now was a call for the competitors.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood friend,\u201d said Ben-Hur, frankly, \u201cI admit my ignorance of the\nGrove; and if you will let me be your follower, I will be glad.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat will delight me. Hark! I hear the wheels of the chariots. They\nare taking the track.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur listened a moment, then completed the introduction by laying\nhis hand upon the man\u2019s arm, and saying, \u201cI am the son of Arrius, the\nduumvir, and thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am Malluch, a merchant of Antioch.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, good Malluch, the trumpet, and the gride of wheels, and the\nprospect of diversion excite me. I have some skill in the exercises. In\nthe palaestrae of Rome I am not unknown. Let us to the course.\u201d\n\nMalluch lingered to say, quickly, \u201cThe duumvir was a Roman, yet I see\nhis son in the garments of a Jew.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe noble Arrius was my father by adoption,\u201d Ben-Hur answered.\n\n\u201cAh! I see, and beg pardon.\u201d\n\nPassing through the belt of forest, they came to a field with a track\nlaid out upon it, in shape and extent exactly like those of the stadia.\nThe course, or track proper, was of soft earth, rolled and sprinkled,\nand on both sides defined by ropes, stretched loosely upon upright\njavelins. For the accommodation of spectators, and such as had\ninterests reaching forward of the mere practise, there were several\nstands shaded by substantial awnings, and provided with seats in rising\nrows. In one of the stands the two new-comers found places.\n\nBen-Hur counted the chariots as they went by\u2014nine in all.\n\n\u201cI commend the fellows,\u201d he said, with good-will. \u201cHere in the East, I\nthought they aspired to nothing better than the two; but they are\nambitious, and play with royal fours. Let us study their performance.\u201d\n\nEight of the fours passed the stand, some walking, others on the trot,\nand all unexceptionably handled; then the ninth one came on the gallop.\nBen-Hur burst into exclamation.\n\n\u201cI have been in the stables of the emperor, Malluch, but, by our father\nAbraham of blessed memory! I never saw the like of these.\u201d\n\nThe last four was then sweeping past. All at once they fell into\nconfusion. Some one on the stand uttered a sharp cry. Ben-Hur turned,\nand saw an old man half-risen from an upper seat, his hands clenched\nand raised, his eyes fiercely bright, his long white beard fairly\nquivering. Some of the spectators nearest him began to laugh.\n\n\u201cThey should respect his beard at least. Who is he?\u201d asked Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cA mighty man from the Desert, somewhere beyond Moab, and owner of\ncamels in herds, and horses descended, they say, from the racers of the\nfirst Pharaoh\u2014Sheik Ilderim by name and title.\u201d\n\nThus Malluch replied.\n\nThe driver meanwhile exerted himself to quiet the four, but without\navail. Each ineffectual effort excited the sheik the more.\n\n\u201cAbaddon seize him!\u201d yelled the patriarch, shrilly. \u201cRun! fly! do you\nhear, my children?\u201d The question was to his attendants, apparently of\nthe tribe. \u201cDo you hear? They are Desert-born, like yourselves. Catch\nthem\u2014quick!\u201d\n\nThe plunging of the animals increased.\n\n\u201cAccursed Roman!\u201d and the sheik shook his fist at the driver. \u201cDid he\nnot swear he could drive them\u2014swear it by all his brood of bastard\nLatin gods? Nay, hands off me\u2014off, I say! They should run swift as\neagles, and with the temper of hand-bred lambs, he swore. Cursed be\nhe\u2014cursed the mother of liars who calls him son! See them, the\npriceless! Let him touch one of them with a lash, and\u201d\u2014the rest of the\nsentence was lost in a furious grinding of his teeth. \u201cTo their heads,\nsome of you, and speak them\u2014a word, one is enough, from the tent-song\nyour mothers sang you. Oh, fool, fool that I was to put trust in a\nRoman!\u201d\n\nSome of the shrewder of the old man\u2019s friends planted themselves\nbetween him and the horses. An opportune failure of breath on his part\nhelped the stratagem.\n\nBen-Hur, thinking he comprehended the sheik, sympathized with him. Far\nmore than mere pride of property\u2014more than anxiety for the result of\nthe race\u2014in his view it was within the possible for the patriarch,\naccording to his habits of thought and his ideas of the inestimable, to\nlove such animals with a tenderness akin to the most sensitive passion.\n\nThey were all bright bays, unspotted, perfectly matched, and so\nproportioned as to seem less than they really were. Delicate ears\npointed small heads; the faces were broad and full between the eyes;\nthe nostrils in expansion disclosed membrane so deeply red as to\nsuggest the flashing of flame; the necks were arches, overlaid with\nfine mane so abundant as to drape the shoulders and breast, while in\nhappy consonance the forelocks were like ravellings of silken veils;\nbetween the knees and the fetlocks the legs were flat as an open hand,\nbut above the knees they were rounded with mighty muscles, needful to\nupbear the shapely close-knit bodies; the hoofs were like cups of\npolished agate; and in rearing and plunging they whipped the air, and\nsometimes the earth, with tails glossy-black and thick and long. The\nsheik spoke of them as the priceless, and it was a good saying.\n\nIn this second and closer look at the horses, Ben-Hur read the story of\ntheir relation to their master. They had grown up under his eyes,\nobjects of his special care in the day, his visions of pride in the\nnight, with his family at home in the black tent out on the shadeless\nbosom of the desert, as his children beloved. That they might win him a\ntriumph over the haughty and hated Roman, the old man had brought his\nloves to the city, never doubting they would win, if only he could find\na trusty expert to take them in hand; not merely one with skill, but of\na spirit which their spirits would acknowledge. Unlike the colder\npeople of the West, he could not protest the driver\u2019s inability, and\ndismiss him civilly; an Arab and a sheik, he had to explode, and rive\nthe air about him with clamor.\n\nBefore the patriarch was done with his expletives, a dozen hands were\nat the bits of the horses, and their quiet assured. About that time,\nanother chariot appeared upon the track; and, unlike the others,\ndriver, vehicle, and races were precisely as they would be presented in\nthe Circus the day of final trial. For a reason which will presently be\nmore apparent, it is desirable now to give this turnout plainly to the\nreader.\n\nThere should be no difficulty in understanding the carriage known to us\nall as the chariot of classical renown. One has but to picture to\nhimself a dray with low wheels and broad axle, surmounted by a box open\nat the tail end. Such was the primitive pattern. Artistic genius came\nalong in time, and, touching the rude machine, raised it into a thing\nof beauty\u2014that, for instance, in which Aurora, riding in advance of the\ndawn, is given to our fancy.\n\nThe jockeys of the ancients, quite as shrewd and ambitious as their\nsuccessors of the present, called their humblest turnout a two, and\ntheir best in grade a four; in the latter, they contested the Olympics\nand the other festal shows founded in imitation of them.\n\nThe same sharp gamesters preferred to put their horses to the chariot\nall abreast; and for distinction they termed the two next the pole\nyoke-steeds, and those on the right and left outside trace-mates. It\nwas their judgment, also, that, by allowing the fullest freedom of\naction, the greatest speed was attainable; accordingly, the harness\nresorted to was peculiarly simple; in fact, there was nothing of it\nsave a collar round the animal\u2019s neck, and a trace fixed to the collar,\nunless the lines and a halter fall within the term. Wanting to hitch\nup, the masters pinned a narrow wooden yoke, or cross-tree, near the\nend of the pole, and, by straps passed through rings at the end of the\nyoke, buckled the latter to the collar. The traces of the yokesteeds\nthey hitched to the axle; those of the trace-mates to the top rim of\nthe chariot-bed. There remained then but the adjustment of the lines,\nwhich, judged by the modern devices, was not the least curious part of\nthe method. For this there was a large ring at the forward extremity of\nthe pole; securing the ends to that ring first, they parted the lines\nso as to give one to each horse, and proceeded to pass them to the\ndriver, slipping them separately through rings on the inner side of the\nhalters at the mouth.\n\nWith this plain generalization in mind, all further desirable knowledge\nupon the subject can be had by following the incidents of the scene\noccurring.\n\nThe other contestants had been received in silence; the last comer was\nmore fortunate. While moving towards the stand from which we are\nviewing the scene, his progress was signalized by loud demonstrations,\nby clapping of hands and cheers, the effect of which was to centre\nattention upon him exclusively. His yoke-steeds, it was observed, were\nblack, while the trace-mates were snow-white. In conformity to the\nexacting canons of Roman taste, they had all four been mutilated; that\nis to say, their tails had been clipped, and, to complete the\nbarbarity, their shorn manes were divided into knots tied with flaring\nred and yellow ribbons.\n\nIn advancing, the stranger at length reached a point where the chariot\ncame into view from the stand, and its appearance would of itself have\njustified the shouting. The wheels were very marvels of construction.\nStout bands of burnished bronze reinforced the hubs, otherwise very\nlight; the spokes were sections of ivory tusks, set in with the natural\ncurve outward to perfect the dishing, considered important then as now;\nbronze tires held the fellies, which were of shining ebony. The axle,\nin keeping with the wheels, was tipped with heads of snarling tigers\ndone in brass, and the bed was woven of willow wands gilded with gold.\n\nThe coming of the beautiful horses and resplendent chariot drew Ben-Hur\nto look at the driver with increased interest.\n\nWho was he?\n\nWhen Ben-Hur asked himself the question first, he could not see the\nman\u2019s face, or even his full figure; yet the air and manner were\nfamiliar, and pricked him keenly with a reminder of a period long gone.\n\nWho could it be?\n\nNearer now, and the horses approaching at a trot. From the shouting and\nthe gorgeousness of the turnout, it was thought he might be some\nofficial favorite or famous prince. Such an appearance was not\ninconsistent with exalted rank. Kings often struggled for the crown of\nleaves which was the prize of victory. Nero and Commodus, it will be\nremembered, devoted themselves to the chariot. Ben-Hur arose and forced\na passage down nearly to the railing in front of the lower seat of the\nstand. His face was earnest, his manner eager.\n\nAnd directly the whole person of the driver was in view. A companion\nrode with him, in classic description a Myrtilus, permitted men of high\nestate indulging their passion for the race-course. Ben-Hur could see\nonly the driver, standing erect in the chariot, with the reins passed\nseveral times round his body\u2014a handsome figure, scantily covered by a\ntunic of light-red cloth; in the right hand a whip; in the other, the\narm raised and lightly extended, the four lines. The pose was\nexceedingly graceful and animated. The cheers and clapping of hands\nwere received with statuesque indifference. Ben-Hur stood\ntransfixed\u2014his instinct and memory had served him faithfully\u2014THE DRIVER\nWAS MESSALA.\n\nBy the selection of horses, the magnificence of the chariot, the\nattitude, and display of person\u2014above all, by the expression of the\ncold, sharp, eagle features, imperialized in his countrymen by sway of\nthe world through so many generations, Ben-Hur knew Messala unchanged,\nas haughty, confident, and audacious as ever, the same in ambition,\ncynicism, and mocking insouciance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nAs Ben-Hur descended the steps of the stand, an Arab arose upon the\nlast one at the foot, and cried out,\n\n\u201cMen of the East and West\u2014hearken! The good Sheik Ilderim giveth\ngreeting. With four horses, sons of the favorites of Solomon the Wise,\nhe hath come up against the best. Needs he most a mighty man to drive\nthem. Whoso will take them to his satisfaction, to him he promiseth\nenrichment forever. Here\u2014there\u2014in the city and in the Circuses, and\nwherever the strong most do congregate, tell ye this his offer. So\nsaith my master, Sheik Ilderim the Generous.\u201d\n\nThe proclamation awakened a great buzz among the people under the\nawning. By night it would be repeated and discussed in all the sporting\ncircles of Antioch. Ben-Hur, hearing it, stopped and looked\nhesitatingly from the herald to the sheik. Malluch thought he was about\nto accept the offer, but was relieved when he presently turned to him,\nand asked, \u201cGood Malluch, where to now?\u201d\n\nThe worthy replied, with a laugh, \u201cWould you liken yourself to others\nvisiting the Grove for the first time, you will straightway to hear\nyour fortune told.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy fortune, said you? Though the suggestion has in it a flavor of\nunbelief, let us to the goddess at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, son of Arrius, these Apollonians have a better trick than that.\nInstead of speech with a Pythia or a Sibyl, they will sell you a plain\npapyrus leaf, hardly dry from the stalk, and bid you dip it in the\nwater of a certain fountain, when it will show you a verse in which you\nmay hear of your future.\u201d\n\nThe glow of interest departed from Ben-Hur\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cThere are people who have no need to vex themselves about their\nfuture,\u201d he said, gloomily.\n\n\u201cThen you prefer to go to the temples?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe temples are Greek, are they not?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey call them Greek.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Hellenes were masters of the beautiful in art; but in architecture\nthey sacrificed variety to unbending beauty. Their temples are all\nalike. How call you the fountain?\u201d\n\n\u201cCastalia.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! it has repute throughout the world. Let us thither.\u201d\n\nMalluch kept watch on his companion as they went, and saw that for the\nmoment at least his good spirits were out. To the people passing he\ngave no attention; over the wonders they came upon there were no\nexclamations; silently, even sullenly, he kept a slow pace.\n\nThe truth was, the sight of Messala had set Ben-Hur to thinking. It\nseemed scarce an hour ago that the strong hands had torn him from his\nmother, scarce an hour ago that the Roman had put seal upon the gates\nof his father\u2019s house. He recounted how, in the hopeless misery of the\nlife\u2014if such it might be called\u2014in the galleys, he had had little else\nto do, aside from labor, than dream dreams of vengeance, in all of\nwhich Messala was the principal. There might be, he used to say to\nhimself, escape for Gratus, but for Messala\u2014never! And to strengthen\nand harden his resolution, he was accustomed to repeat over and over,\nWho pointed us out to the persecutors? And when I begged him for\nhelp\u2014not for myself\u2014who mocked me, and went away laughing? And always\nthe dream had the same ending. The day I meet him, help me, thou good\nGod of my people!\u2014help me to some fitting special vengeance!\n\nAnd now the meeting was at hand.\n\nPerhaps, if he had found Messala poor and suffering, Ben-Hur\u2019s feeling\nhad been different; but it was not so. He found him more than\nprosperous; in the prosperity there was a dash and glitter\u2014gleam of sun\non gilt of gold.\n\nSo it happened that what Malluch accounted a passing loss of spirit was\npondering when the meeting should be, and in what manner he could make\nit most memorable.\n\nThey turned after a while into an avenue of oaks, where the people were\ngoing and coming in groups; footmen here, and horsemen; there women in\nlitters borne slaves; and now and then chariots rolled by thunderously.\n\nAt the end of the avenue the road, by an easy grade, descended into a\nlowland, where, on the right hand, there was a precipitous facing of\ngray rock, and on the left an open meadow of vernal freshness. Then\nthey came in view of the famous Fountain of Castalia.\n\nEdging through a company assembled at the point, Ben-Hur beheld a jet\nof sweet water pouring from the crest of a stone into a basin of black\nmarble, where, after much boiling and foaming, it disappeared as\nthrough a funnel.\n\nBy the basin, under a small portico cut in the solid wall, sat a\npriest, old, bearded, wrinkled, cowled\u2014never being more perfectly\neremitish. From the manner of the people present, hardly might one say\nwhich was the attraction, the fountain, forever sparkling, or the\npriest, forever there. He heard, saw, was seen, but never spoke.\nOccasionally a visitor extended a hand to him with a coin in it. With a\ncunning twinkle of the eyes, he took the money, and gave the party in\nexchange a leaf of papyrus.\n\nThe receiver made haste to plunge the papyrus into the basin; then,\nholding the dripping leaf in the sunlight, he would be rewarded with a\nversified inscription upon its face; and the fame of the fountain\nseldom suffered loss by poverty of merit in the poetry. Before Ben-Hur\ncould test the oracle, some other visitors were seen approaching across\nthe meadow, and their appearance piqued the curiosity of the company,\nhis not less than theirs.\n\nHe saw first a camel, very tall and very white, in leading of a driver\non horseback. A houdah on the animal, besides being unusually large,\nwas of crimson and gold. Two other horsemen followed the camel with\ntall spears in hand.\n\n\u201cWhat a wonderful camel!\u201d said one of the company.\n\n\u201cA prince from afar,\u201d another one suggested.\n\n\u201cMore likely a king.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf he were on an elephant, I would say he was a king.\u201d\n\nA third man had a very different opinion.\n\n\u201cA camel\u2014and a white camel!\u201d he said, authoritatively. \u201cBy Apollo,\nfriends, they who come yonder\u2014you can see there are two of them\u2014are\nneither kings nor princes; they are women!\u201d\n\nIn the midst of the dispute the strangers arrived.\n\nThe camel seen at hand did not belie his appearance afar. A taller,\nstatelier brute of his kind no traveller at the fountain, though from\nthe remotest parts, had ever beheld. Such great black eyes! such\nexceedingly fine white hair! feet so contractile when raised, so\nsoundless in planting, so broad when set!\u2014nobody had ever seen the peer\nof this camel. And how well he became his housing of silk, and all its\nfrippery of gold in fringe and gold in tassel! The tinkling of silver\nbells went before him, and he moved lightly, as if unknowing of his\nburden.\n\nBut who were the man and woman under the houdah?\n\nEvery eye saluted them with the inquiry.\n\nIf the former were a prince or a king, the philosophers of the crowd\nmight not deny the impartiality of Time. When they saw the thin,\nshrunken face buried under an immense turban, the skin of the hue of a\nmummy, making it impossible to form an idea of his nationality, they\nwere pleased to think the limit of life was for the great as well as\nthe small. They saw about his person nothing so enviable as the shawl\nwhich draped him.\n\nThe woman was seated in the manner of the East, amidst veils and laces\nof surpassing fineness. Above her elbows she wore armlets fashioned\nlike coiled asps, and linked to bracelets at the wrists by strands of\ngold; otherwise the arms were bare and of singular natural grace,\ncomplemented with hands modelled daintily as a child\u2019s. One of the\nhands rested upon the side of the carriage, showing tapered fingers\nglittering with rings, and stained at the tips till they blushed like\nthe pink of mother-of-pearl. She wore an open caul upon her head,\nsprinkled with beads of coral, and strung with coin-pieces called\nsunlets, some of which were carried across her forehead, while others\nfell down her back, half-smothered in the mass of her straight\nblue-black hair, of itself an incomparable ornament, not needing the\nveil which covered it, except as a protection against sun and dust.\nFrom her elevated seat she looked upon the people calmly, pleasantly,\nand apparently so intent upon studying them as to be unconscious of the\ninterest she herself was exciting; and, what was unusual\u2014nay, in\nviolent contravention of the custom among women of rank in public\u2014she\nlooked at them with an open face.\n\nIt was a fair face to see; quite youthful; in form, oval: complexion\nnot white, like the Greek; nor brunet, like the Roman; nor blond, like\nthe Gaul; but rather the tinting of the sun of the Upper Nile upon a\nskin of such transparency that the blood shone through it on cheek and\nbrow with nigh the ruddiness of lamplight. The eyes, naturally large,\nwere touched along the lids with the black paint immemorial throughout\nthe East. The lips were slightly parted, disclosing, through their\nscarlet lake, teeth of glistening whiteness. To all these excellences\nof countenance the reader is finally besought to superadd the air\nderived from the pose of a small head, classic in shape, set upon a\nneck long, drooping, and graceful\u2014the air, we may fancy, happily\ndescribed by the word queenly.\n\nAs if satisfied with the survey of people and locality, the fair\ncreature spoke to the driver\u2014an Ethiopian of vast brawn, naked to the\nwaist\u2014who led the camel nearer the fountain, and caused it to kneel;\nafter which he received from her hand a cup, and proceeded to fill it\nat the basin. That instant the sound of wheels and the trampling of\nhorses in rapid motion broke the silence her beauty had imposed, and,\nwith a great outcry, the bystanders parted in every direction, hurrying\nto get away.\n\n\u201cThe Roman has a mind to ride us down. Look out!\u201d Malluch shouted to\nBen-Hur, setting him at the same time an example of hasty flight.\n\nThe latter faced to the direction the sounds came from, and beheld\nMessala in his chariot pushing the four straight at the crowd. This\ntime the view was near and distinct.\n\nThe parting of the company uncovered the camel, which might have been\nmore agile than his kind generally; yet the hoofs were almost upon him,\nand he resting with closed eyes, chewing the endless cud with such\nsense of security as long favoritism may be supposed to have bred in\nhim. The Ethiopian wrung his hands afraid. In the houdah, the old man\nmoved to escape; but he was hampered with age, and could not, even in\nthe face of danger, forget the dignity which was plainly his habit. It\nwas too late for the woman to save herself. Ben-Hur stood nearest them,\nand he called to Messala,\n\n\u201cHold! Look where thou goest! Back, back!\u201d\n\nThe patrician was laughing in hearty good-humor; and, seeing there was\nbut one chance of rescue, Ben-Hur stepped in, and caught the bits of\nthe left yoke-steed and his mate. \u201cDog of a Roman! Carest thou so\nlittle for life?\u201d he cried, putting forth all his strength. The two\nhorses reared, and drew the others round; the tilting of the pole\ntilted the chariot; Messala barely escaped a fall, while his complacent\nMyrtilus rolled back like a clod to the ground. Seeing the peril past,\nall the bystanders burst into derisive laughter.\n\nThe matchless audacity of the Roman then manifested itself. Loosing the\nlines from his body, he tossed them to one side, dismounted, walked\nround the camel, looked at Ben-Hur, and spoke partly to the old man and\npartly to the woman.\n\n\u201cPardon, I pray you\u2014I pray you both. I am Messala,\u201d he said; \u201cand, by\nthe old Mother of the earth, I swear I did not see you or your camel!\nAs to these good people\u2014perhaps I trusted too much to my skill. I\nsought a laugh at them\u2014the laugh is theirs. Good may it do them!\u201d\n\nThe good-natured, careless look and gesture he threw the bystanders\naccorded well with the speech. To hear what more he had to say, they\nbecame quiet. Assured of victory over the body of the offended, he\nsigned his companion to take the chariot to a safer distance, and\naddressed himself boldly to the woman.\n\n\u201cThou hast interest in the good man here, whose pardon, if not granted\nnow, I shall seek with the greater diligence hereafter; his daughter, I\nshould say.\u201d\n\nShe made him no reply.\n\n\u201cBy Pallas, thou art beautiful! Beware Apollo mistake thee not for his\nlost love. I wonder what land can boast herself thy mother. Turn not\naway. A truce! a truce! There is the sun of India in thine eyes; in the\ncorners of thy mouth, Egypt hath set her love-signs. Perpol! Turn not\nto that slave, fair mistress, before proving merciful to this one. Tell\nme at least that I am pardoned.\u201d\n\nAt this point she broke in upon him.\n\n\u201cWilt thou come here?\u201d she asked, smiling, and with gracious bend of\nthe head to Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cTake the cup and fill it, I pray thee,\u201d she said to the latter. \u201cMy\nfather is thirsty.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am thy most willing servant!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur turned about to do the favor, and was face to face with\nMessala. Their glances met; the Jew\u2019s defiant; the Roman\u2019s sparkling\nwith humor.\n\n\u201cO stranger, beautiful as cruel!\u201d Messala said, waving his hand to her.\n\u201cIf Apollo get thee not, thou shalt see me again. Not knowing thy\ncountry, I cannot name a god to commend thee to; so, by all the gods, I\nwill commend thee to\u2014myself!\u201d\n\nSeeing that Myrtilus had the four composed and ready, he returned to\nthe chariot. The woman looked after him as he moved away, and whatever\nelse there was in her look, there was no displeasure. Presently she\nreceived the water; her father drank; then she raised the cup to her\nlips, and, leaning down, gave it to Ben-Hur; never action more graceful\nand gracious.\n\n\u201cKeep it, we pray of thee! It is full of blessings\u2014all thine!\u201d\n\nImmediately the camel was aroused, and on his feet, and about to go,\nwhen the old man called,\n\n\u201cStand thou here.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur went to him respectfully.\n\n\u201cThou hast served the stranger well to-day. There is but one God. In\nhis holy name I thank thee. I am Balthasar, the Egyptian. In the Great\nOrchard of Palms, beyond the village of Daphne, in the shade of the\npalms, Sheik Ilderim the Generous abideth in his tents, and we are his\nguests. Seek us there. Thou shalt have welcome sweet with the savor of\nthe grateful.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur was left in wonder at the old man\u2019s clear voice and reverend\nmanner. As he gazed after the two departing, he caught sight of Messala\ngoing as he had come, joyous, indifferent, and with a mocking laugh.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nAs a rule, there is no surer way to the dislike of men than to behave\nwell where they have behaved badly. In this instance, happily, Malluch\nwas an exception to the rule. The affair he had just witnessed raised\nBen-Hur in his estimation, since he could not deny him courage and\naddress; could he now get some insight into the young man\u2019s history,\nthe results of the day would not be all unprofitable to good master\nSimonides.\n\nOn the latter point, referring to what he had as yet learned, two facts\ncomprehended it all\u2014the subject of his investigation was a Jew, and the\nadopted son of a famous Roman. Another conclusion which might be of\nimportance was beginning to formulate itself in the shrewd mind of the\nemissary; between Messala and the son of the duumvir there was a\nconnection of some kind. But what was it?\u2014and how could it be reduced\nto assurance? With all his sounding, the ways and means of solution\nwere not at call. In the heat of the perplexity, Ben-Hur himself came\nto his help. He laid his hand on Malluch\u2019s arm and drew him out of the\ncrowd, which was already going back to its interest in the gray old\npriest and the mystic fountain.\n\n\u201cGood Malluch,\u201d he said, stopping, \u201cmay a man forget his mother?\u201d\n\nThe question was abrupt and without direction, and therefore of the\nkind which leaves the person addressed in a state of confusion. Malluch\nlooked into Ben-Hur\u2019s face for a hint of meaning, but saw, instead, two\nbright-red spots, one on each cheek, and in his eyes traces of what\nmight have been repressed tears; then he answered, mechanically, \u201cNo!\u201d\nadding, with fervor, \u201cnever;\u201d and a moment after, when he began to\nrecover himself, \u201cIf he is an Israelite, never!\u201d And when at length he\nwas completely recovered\u2014\u201cMy first lesson in the synagogue was the\nShema; my next was the saying of the son of Sirach, \u2018Honor thy father\nwith thy whole soul, and forget not the sorrows of thy mother.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe red spots on Ben-Hur\u2019s face deepened.\n\n\u201cThe words bring my childhood back again; and, Malluch, they prove you\na genuine Jew. I believe I can trust you.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur let go the arm he was holding, and caught the folds of the gown\ncovering his own breast, and pressed them close, as if to smother a\npain, or a feeling there as sharp as a pain.\n\n\u201cMy father,\u201d he said, \u201cbore a good name, and was not without honor in\nJerusalem, where he dwelt. My mother, at his death, was in the prime of\nwomanhood; and it is not enough to say of her she was good and\nbeautiful: in her tongue was the law of kindness, and her works were\nthe praise of all in the gates, and she smiled at days to come. I had a\nlittle sister, and she and I were the family, and we were so happy that\nI, at least, have never seen harm in the saying of the old rabbi, \u2018God\ncould not be everywhere, and, therefore, he made mothers.\u2019 One day an\naccident happened to a Roman in authority as he was riding past our\nhouse at the head of a cohort; the legionaries burst the gate and\nrushed in and seized us. I have not seen my mother or sister since. I\ncannot say they are dead or living. I do not know what became of them.\nBut, Malluch, the man in the chariot yonder was present at the\nseparation; he gave us over to the captors; he heard my mother\u2019s prayer\nfor her children, and he laughed when they dragged her away. Hardly may\none say which graves deepest in memory, love or hate. To-day I knew him\nafar\u2014and, Malluch\u2014\u201d\n\nHe caught the listener\u2019s arm again.\n\n\u201cAnd, Malluch, he knows and takes with him now the secret I would give\nmy life for: he could tell if she lives, and where she is, and her\ncondition; if she\u2014no, THEY\u2014much sorrow has made the two as one\u2014if they\nare dead, he could tell where they died, and of what, and where their\nbones await my finding.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd will he not?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a Jew, and he is a Roman.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Romans have tongues, and Jews, though ever so despised, have\nmethods to beguile them.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor such as he? No; and, besides, the secret is one of state. All my\nfather\u2019s property was confiscated and divided.\u201d\n\nMalluch nodded his head slowly, much as to admit the argument; then he\nasked anew, \u201cDid he not recognize you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe could not. I was sent to death in life, and have been long since\naccounted of the dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder you did not strike him,\u201d said Malluch, yielding to a touch of\npassion.\n\n\u201cThat would have been to put him past serving me forever. I would have\nhad to kill him, and Death, you know, keeps secrets better even than a\nguilty Roman.\u201d\n\nThe man who, with so much to avenge, could so calmly put such an\nopportunity aside must be confident of his future or have ready some\nbetter design, and Malluch\u2019s interest changed with the thought; it\nceased to be that of an emissary in duty bound to another. Ben-Hur was\nactually asserting a claim upon him for his own sake. In other words,\nMalluch was preparing to serve him with good heart and from downright\nadmiration.\n\nAfter brief pause, Ben-Hur resumed speaking.\n\n\u201cI would not take his life, good Malluch; against that extreme the\npossession of the secret is for the present, at least, his safeguard;\nyet I may punish him, and so you give me help, I will try.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a Roman,\u201d said Malluch, without hesitation; \u201cand I am of the\ntribe of Judah. I will help you. If you choose, put me under oath\u2014under\nthe most solemn oath.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me your hand, that will suffice.\u201d\n\nAs their hands fell apart, Ben-Hur said, with lightened feeling, \u201cThat\nI would charge you with is not difficult, good friend; neither is it\ndreadful to conscience. Let us move on.\u201d\n\nThey took the road which led to the right across the meadow spoken of\nin the description of the coming to the fountain. Ben-Hur was first to\nbreak the silence.\n\n\u201cDo you know Sheik Ilderim the Generous?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is his Orchard of Palms? or, rather, Malluch, how far is it\nbeyond the village of Daphne?\u201d\n\nMalluch was touched by a doubt; he recalled the prettiness of the favor\nshown him by the woman at the fountain, and wondered if he who had the\nsorrows of a mother in mind was about to forget them for a lure of\nlove; yet he replied, \u201cThe Orchard of Palms lies beyond the village two\nhours by horse, and one by swift camel.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you; and to your knowledge once more. Have the games of which\nyou told me been widely published? and when will they take place?\u201d\n\nThe questions were suggestive; and if they did not restore Malluch his\nconfidence, they at least stimulated his curiosity.\n\n\u201cOh yes, they will be of ample splendor. The prefect is rich, and could\nafford to lose his place; yet, as is the way with successful men, his\nlove of riches is nowise diminished; and to gain a friend at court, if\nnothing more, he must make ado for the Consul Maxentius, who is coming\nhither to make final preparations for a campaign against the Parthians.\nThe money there is in the preparations the citizens of Antioch know\nfrom experience; so they have had permission to join the prefect in the\nhonors intended for the great man. A month ago heralds went to the four\nquarters to proclaim the opening of the Circus for the celebration. The\nname of the prefect would be of itself good guarantee of variety and\nmagnificence, particularly throughout the East; but when to his\npromises Antioch joins hers, all the islands and the cities by the sea\nstand assured of the extraordinary, and will be here in person or by\ntheir most famous professionals. The fees offered are royal.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the Circus\u2014I have heard it is second only to the Maximus.\u201d\n\n\u201cAt Rome, you mean. Well, ours seats two hundred thousand people, yours\nseats seventy-five thousand more; yours is of marble, so is ours; in\narrangement they are exactly the same.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre the rules the same?\u201d\n\nMalluch smiled.\n\n\u201cIf Antioch dared be original, son of Arrius, Rome would not be the\nmistress she is. The laws of the Circus Maximus govern except in one\nparticular: there but four chariots may start at once, here all start\nwithout reference to number.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the practise of the Greeks,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cYes, Antioch is more Greek than Roman.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo then, Malluch, I may choose my own chariot?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour own chariot and horses. There is no restriction upon either.\u201d\n\nWhile replying, Malluch observed the thoughtful look on Ben-Hur\u2019s face\ngive place to one of satisfaction.\n\n\u201cOne thing more now, O Malluch. When will the celebration be?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! your pardon,\u201d the other answered. \u201cTo-morrow\u2014and the next day,\u201d he\nsaid, counting aloud, \u201cthen, to speak in the Roman style, if the\nsea-gods be propitious, the consul arrives. Yes, the sixth day from\nthis we have the games.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe time is short, Malluch, but it is enough.\u201d The last words were\nspoken decisively. \u201cBy the prophets of our old Israel! I will take to\nthe reins again. Stay! a condition; is there assurance that Messala\nwill be a competitor?\u201d\n\nMalluch saw now the plan, and all its opportunities for the humiliation\nof the Roman; and he had not been true descendant of Jacob if, with all\nhis interest wakened, he had not rushed to a consideration of the\nchances. His voice actually trembled as he said, \u201cHave you the\npractise?\u201d\n\n\u201cFear not, my friend. The winners in the Circus Maximus have held their\ncrowns these three years at my will. Ask them\u2014ask the best of them\u2014and\nthey will tell you so. In the last great games the emperor himself\noffered me his patronage if I would take his horses in hand and run\nthem against the entries of the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you did not?\u201d\n\nMalluch spoke eagerly.\n\n\u201cI\u2014I am a Jew\u201d\u2014Ben-Hur seemed shrinking within himself as he\nspoke\u2014\u201cand, though I wear a Roman name, I dared not do professionally a\nthing to sully my father\u2019s name in the cloisters and courts of the\nTemple. In the palaestrae I could indulge practise which, if followed\ninto the Circus, would become an abomination; and if I take to the\ncourse here, Malluch, I swear it will not be for the prize or the\nwinner\u2019s fee.\u201d\n\n\u201cHold\u2014swear not so!\u201d cried Malluch. \u201cThe fee is ten thousand\nsestertii\u2014a fortune for life!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot for me, though the prefect trebled it fifty times. Better than\nthat, better than all the imperial revenues from the first year of the\nfirst C\u00e6sar\u2014I will make this race to humble my enemy. Vengeance is\npermitted by the law.\u201d\n\nMalluch smiled and nodded as if saying, \u201cRight, right\u2014trust me a Jew to\nunderstand a Jew.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Messala will drive,\u201d he said, directly. \u201cHe is committed to the\nrace in many ways\u2014by publication in the streets, and in the baths and\ntheaters, the palace and barracks; and, to fix him past retreat, his\nname is on the tablets of every young spendthrift in Antioch.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn wager, Malluch?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, in wager; and every day he comes ostentatiously to practise, as\nyou saw him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! and that is the chariot, and those the horses, with which he will\nmake the race? Thank you, thank you, Malluch! You have served me well\nalready. I am satisfied. Now be my guide to the Orchard of Palms, and\ngive me introduction to Sheik Ilderim the Generous.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-day. His horses may be engaged to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou like them, then?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur answered with animation,\n\n\u201cI saw them from the stand an instant only, for Messala then drove up,\nand I might not look at anything else; yet I recognized them as of the\nblood which is the wonder as well as the glory of the deserts. I never\nsaw the kind before, except in the stables of C\u00e6sar; but once seen,\nthey are always to be known. To-morrow, upon meeting, I will know you,\nMalluch, though you do not so much as salute me; I will know you by\nyour face, by your form, by your manner; and by the same signs I will\nknow them, and with the same certainty. If all that is said of them be\ntrue, and I can bring their spirit under control of mine, I can\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWin the sestertii!\u201d said Malluch, laughing.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Ben-Hur, as quickly. \u201cI will do what better becomes a\nman born to the heritage of Jacob\u2014I will humble mine enemy in a most\npublic place. But,\u201d he added, impatiently, \u201cwe are losing time. How can\nwe most quickly reach the tents of the sheik?\u201d\n\nMalluch took a moment for reflection.\n\n\u201cIt is best we go straight to the village, which is fortunately near\nby; if two swift camels are to be had for hire there, we will be on the\nroad but an hour.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us about it, then.\u201d\n\nThe village was an assemblage of palaces in beautiful gardens,\ninterspersed with khans of princely sort. Dromedaries were happily\nsecured, and upon them the journey to the famous Orchard of Palms was\nbegun.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nBeyond the village the country was undulating and cultivated; in fact,\nit was the garden-land of Antioch, with not a foot lost to labor. The\nsteep faces of the hills were terraced; even the hedges were brighter\nof the trailing vines which, besides the lure of shade, offered\npassers-by sweet promises of wine to come, and grapes in clustered\npurple ripeness. Over melon-patches, and through apricot and fig-tree\ngroves, and groves of oranges and limes, the white-washed houses of the\nfarmers were seen; and everywhere Plenty, the smiling daughter of\nPeace, gave notice by her thousand signs that she was at home, making\nthe generous traveller merry at heart, until he was even disposed to\ngive Rome her dues. Occasionally, also, views were had of Taurus and\nLebanon, between which, a separating line of silver, the Orontes\nplacidly pursued its way.\n\nIn course of their journey the friends came to the river, which they\nfollowed with the windings of the road, now over bold bluffs, and then\ninto vales, all alike allotted for country-seats, and if the land was\nin full foliage of oak and sycamore and myrtle, and bay and arbutus,\nand perfuming jasmine, the river was bright with slanted sunlight,\nwhich would have slept where it fell but for ships in endless\nprocession, gliding with the current, tacking for the wind, or bounding\nunder the impulse of oars\u2014some coming, some going, and all suggestive\nof the sea, and distant peoples, and famous places, and things coveted\non account of their rarity. To the fancy there is nothing so winsome as\na white sail seaward blown, unless it be a white sail homeward bound,\nits voyage happily done. And down the shore the friends went\ncontinuously till they came to a lake fed by back-water from the river,\nclear, deep, and without current. An old palm-tree dominated the angle\nof the inlet; turning to the left at the foot of the tree, Malluch\nclapped his hands and shouted,\n\n\u201cLook, look! The Orchard of Palms!\u201d\n\nThe scene was nowhere else to be found unless in the favored oases of\nArabia or the Ptolemaean farms along the Nile; and to sustain a\nsensation new as it was delightful, Ben-Hur was admitted into a tract\nof land apparently without limit and level as a floor. All under foot\nwas fresh grass, in Syria the rarest and most beautiful production of\nthe soil; if he looked up, it was to see the sky paley blue through the\ngroinery of countless date-bearers, very patriarchs of their kind, so\nnumerous and old, and of such mighty girth, so tall, so serried, so\nwide of branch, each branch so perfect with fronds, plumy and waxlike\nand brilliant, they seemed enchanters enchanted. Here was the grass\ncoloring the very atmosphere; there the lake, cool and clear, rippling\nbut a few feet under the surface, and helping the trees to their long\nlife in old age. Did the Grove of Daphne excel this one? And the palms,\nas if they knew Ben-Hur\u2019s thought, and would win him after a way of\ntheir own, seemed, as he passed under their arches, to stir and\nsprinkle him with dewy coolness.\n\nThe road wound in close parallelism with the shore of the lake; and\nwhen it carried the travellers down to the water\u2019s edge, there was\nalways on that side a shining expanse limited not far off by the\nopposite shore, on which, as on this one, no tree but the palm was\npermitted.\n\n\u201cSee that,\u201d said Malluch, pointing to a giant of the place. \u201cEach ring\nupon its trunk marks a year of its life. Count them from root to\nbranch, and if the sheik tells you the grove was planted before the\nSeleucid\u00e6 were heard of in Antioch, do not doubt him.\u201d\n\nOne may not look at a perfect palm-tree but that, with a subtlety all\nits own, it assumes a presence for itself, and makes a poet of the\nbeholder. This is the explanation of the honors it has received,\nbeginning with the artists of the first kings, who could find no form\nin all the earth to serve them so well as a model for the pillars of\ntheir palaces and temples; and for the same reason Ben-Hur was moved to\nsay,\n\n\u201cAs I saw him at the stand to-day, good Malluch, Sheik Ilderim appeared\nto be a very common man. The rabbis in Jerusalem would look down upon\nhim, I fear, as a son of a dog of Edom. How came he in possession of\nthe Orchard? And how has he been able to hold it against the greed of\nRoman governors?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf blood derives excellence from time, son of Arrius, then is old\nIlderim a man, though he be an uncircumcised Edomite.\u201d\n\nMalluch spoke warmly.\n\n\u201cAll his fathers before him were sheiks. One of them\u2014I shall not say\nwhen he lived or did the good deed\u2014once helped a king who was being\nhunted with swords. The story says he loaned him a thousand horsemen,\nwho knew the paths of the wilderness and its hiding-places as shepherds\nknow the scant hills they inhabit with their flocks; and they carried\nhim here and there until the opportunity came, and then with their\nspears they slew the enemy, and set him upon his throne again. And the\nking, it is said, remembered the service, and brought the son of the\nDesert to this place, and bade him set up his tent and bring his family\nand his herds, for the lake and trees, and all the land from the river\nto the nearest mountains, were his and his children\u2019s forever. And they\nhave never been disturbed in the possession. The rulers succeeding have\nfound it policy to keep good terms with the tribe, to whom the Lord has\ngiven increase of men and horses, and camels and riches, making them\nmasters of many highways between cities; so that it is with them any\ntime they please to say to commerce, \u2018Go in peace,\u2019 or \u2018Stop,\u2019 and what\nthey say shall be done. Even the prefect in the citadel overlooking\nAntioch thinks it happy day with him when Ilderim, surnamed the\nGenerous on account of good deeds done unto all manner of men, with his\nwives and children, and his trains of camels and horses, and his\nbelongings of sheik, moving as our fathers Abraham and Jacob moved,\ncomes up to exchange briefly his bitter wells for the pleasantness you\nsee about us.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is it, then?\u201d said Ben-Hur, who had been listening unmindful of\nthe slow gait of the dromedaries. \u201cI saw the sheik tear his beard while\nhe cursed himself that he had put trust in a Roman. C\u00e6sar, had he\nheard him, might have said, \u2018I like not such a friend as this; put him\naway.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be but shrewd judgment,\u201d Malluch replied, smiling. \u201cIlderim\nis not a lover of Rome; he has a grievance. Three years ago the\nParthians rode across the road from Bozra to Damascus, and fell upon a\ncaravan laden, among other things, with the incoming tax-returns of a\ndistrict over that way. They slew every creature taken, which the\ncensors in Rome could have forgiven if the imperial treasure had been\nspared and forwarded. The farmers of the taxes, being chargeable with\nthe loss, complained to C\u00e6sar, and C\u00e6sar held Herod to payment, and\nHerod, on his part, seized property of Ilderim, whom he charged with\ntreasonable neglect of duty. The sheik appealed to C\u00e6sar, and C\u00e6sar\nhas made him such answer as might be looked for from the unwinking\nsphinx. The old man\u2019s heart has been aching sore ever since, and he\nnurses his wrath, and takes pleasure in its daily growth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe can do nothing, Malluch.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Malluch, \u201cthat involves another explanation, which I will\ngive you, if we can draw nearer. But see!\u2014the hospitality of the sheik\nbegins early\u2014the children are speaking to you.\u201d\n\nThe dromedaries stopped, and Ben-Hur looked down upon some little girls\nof the Syrian peasant class, who were offering him their baskets filled\nwith dates. The fruit was freshly gathered, and not to be refused; he\nstooped and took it, and as he did so a man in the tree by which they\nwere halted cried, \u201cPeace to you, and welcome!\u201d\n\nTheir thanks said to the children, the friends moved on at such gait as\nthe animals chose.\n\n\u201cYou must know,\u201d Malluch continued, pausing now and then to dispose of\na date, \u201cthat the merchant Simonides gives me his confidence, and\nsometimes flatters me by taking me into council; and as I attend him at\nhis house, I have made acquaintance with many of his friends, who,\nknowing my footing with the host, talk to him freely in my presence. In\nthat way I became somewhat intimate with Sheik Ilderim.\u201d\n\nFor a moment Ben-Hur\u2019s attention wandered. Before his mind\u2019s eye there\narose the image, pure, gentle, and appealing, of Esther, the merchant\u2019s\ndaughter. Her dark eyes bright with the peculiar Jewish lustre met his\nin modest gaze; he heard her step as when she approached him with the\nwine, and her voice as she tendered him the cup; and he acknowledged to\nhimself again all the sympathy she manifested for him, and manifested\nso plainly that words were unnecessary, and so sweetly that words would\nhave been but a detraction. The vision was exceeding pleasant, but upon\nhis turning to Malluch, it flew away.\n\n\u201cA few weeks ago,\u201d said Malluch, continuing, \u201cthe old Arab called on\nSimonides, and found me present. I observed he seemed much moved about\nsomething, and, in deference, offered to withdraw, but he himself\nforbade me. \u2018As you are an Israelite,\u2019 he said, \u2018stay, for I have a\nstrange story to tell.\u2019 The emphasis on the word Israelite excited my\ncuriosity. I remained, and this is in substance his story\u2014I cut it\nshort because we are drawing nigh the tent, and I leave the details to\nthe good man himself. A good many years ago, three men called at\nIlderim\u2019s tent out in the wilderness. They were all foreigners, a\nHindoo, a Greek, and an Egyptian; and they had come on camels, the\nlargest he had ever seen, and all white. He welcomed them, and gave\nthem rest. Next morning they arose and prayed a prayer new to the\nsheik\u2014a prayer addressed to God and his son\u2014this with much mystery\nbesides. After breaking fast with him, the Egyptian told who they were,\nand whence they had come. Each had seen a star, out of which a voice\nhad bidden them go to Jerusalem and ask, Where is he that is born King\nof the Jews?\u2019 They obeyed. From Jerusalem they were led by a star to\nBethlehem, where, in a cave, they found a child newly born, which they\nfell down and worshipped; and after worshipping it, and giving it\ncostly presents, and bearing witness of what it was, they took to their\ncamels, and fled without pause to the sheik, because if Herod\u2014meaning\nhim surnamed the Great\u2014could lay hands upon them, he would certainly\nkill them. And, faithful to his habit, the sheik took care of them, and\nkept them concealed for a year, when they departed, leaving with him\ngifts of great value, and each going a separate way.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is, indeed, a most wonderful story,\u201d Ben-Hur exclaimed at its\nconclusion. \u201cWhat did you say they were to ask at Jerusalem?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey were to ask, \u2018Where is he that is born King of the Jews?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWas that all?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was more to the question, but I cannot recall it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd they found the child?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and worshipped him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a miracle, Malluch.\u201d\n\n\u201cIlderim is a grave man, though excitable as all Arabs are. A lie on\nhis tongue is impossible.\u201d\n\nMalluch spoke positively. Thereupon the dromedaries were forgotten,\nand, quite as unmindful of their riders, they turned off the road to\nthe growing grass.\n\n\u201cHas Ilderim heard nothing more of the three men?\u201d asked Ben-Hur. \u201cWhat\nbecame of them?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes, that was the cause of his coming to Simonides the day of\nwhich I was speaking. Only the night before that day the Egyptian\nreappeared to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere at the door of the tent to which we are coming.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow knew he the man?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you knew the horses to-day\u2014by face and manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy nothing else?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe rode the same great white camel, and gave him the same\nname\u2014Balthasar, the Egyptian.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a wonder of the Lord\u2019s!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur spoke with excitement.\n\nAnd Malluch, wondering, asked, \u201cWhy so?\u201d\n\n\u201cBalthasar, you said?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Balthasar, the Egyptian.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was the name the old man gave us at the fountain today.\u201d\n\nThen, at the reminder, Malluch became excited.\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d he said; \u201cand the camel was the same\u2014and you saved the\nman\u2019s life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the woman,\u201d said Ben-Hur, like one speaking to himself\u2014\u201cthe woman\nwas his daughter.\u201d\n\nHe fell to thinking; and even the reader will say he was having a\nvision of the woman, and that it was more welcome than that of Esther,\nif only because it stayed longer with him; but no\u2014\n\n\u201cTell me again,\u201d he said, presently. \u201cWere the three to ask, \u2018Where is\nhe that is to be King of the Jews?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cNot exactly. The words were BORN TO BE KING OF THE JEWS. Those were\nthe words as the old sheik caught them first in the desert, and he has\never since been waiting the coming of the king; nor can any one shake\nhis faith that he will come.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow\u2014as king?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and bringing the doom of Rome\u2014so says the sheik.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur kept silent awhile, thinking and trying to control his\nfeelings.\n\n\u201cThe old man is one of many millions,\u201d he said, slowly\u2014\u201cone of many\nmillions each with a wrong to avenge; and this strange faith, Malluch,\nis bread and wine to his hope; for who but a Herod may be King of the\nJews while Rome endures? But, following the story, did you hear what\nSimonides said to him?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf Ilderim is a grave man, Simonides is a wise one,\u201d Malluch replied.\n\u201cI listened, and he said\u2014 But hark! Some one comes overtaking us.\u201d\n\nThe noise grew louder, until presently they heard the rumble of wheels\nmixed with the beating of horse-hoofs\u2014a moment later Sheik Ilderim\nhimself appeared on horseback, followed by a train, among which were\nthe four wine-red Arabs drawing the chariot. The sheik\u2019s chin, in its\nmuffling of long white beard, was drooped upon his breast. Our friends\nhad out-travelled him; but at sight of them he raised his head and\nspoke kindly.\n\n\u201cPeace to you!\u2014Ah, my friend Malluch! Welcome! And tell me you are not\ngoing, but just come; that you have something for me from the good\nSimonides\u2014may the Lord of his fathers keep him in life for many years\nto come! Ay, take up the straps, both of you, and follow me. I have\nbread and leben, or, if you prefer it, arrack, and the flesh of young\nkid. Come!\u201d\n\nThey followed after him to the door of the tent, in which, when they\nwere dismounted, he stood to receive them, holding a platter with three\ncups filled with creamy liquor just drawn from a great smoke-stained\nskin bottle, pendent from the central post.\n\n\u201cDrink,\u201d he said, heartily, \u201cdrink, for this is the fear-naught of the\ntentmen.\u201d\n\nThey each took a cup, and drank till but the foam remained.\n\n\u201cEnter now, in God\u2019s name.\u201d\n\nAnd when they were gone in, Malluch took the sheik aside, and spoke to\nhim privately; after which he went to Ben-Hur and excused himself.\n\n\u201cI have told the sheik about you, and he will give you the trial of his\nhorses in the morning. He is your friend. Having done for you all I\ncan, you must do the rest, and let me return to Antioch. There is one\nthere who has my promise to meet him to-night. I have no choice but to\ngo. I will come back to-morrow prepared, if all goes well in the\nmeantime, to stay with you until the games are over.\u201d\n\nWith blessings given and received, Malluch set out in return.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nWhat time the lower horn of a new moon touched the castellated piles on\nMount Sulpius, and two thirds of the people of Antioch were out on\ntheir house-tops comforting themselves with the night breeze when it\nblew, and with fans when it failed, Simonides sat in the chair which\nhad come to be a part of him, and from the terrace looked down over the\nriver, and his ships a-swing at their moorings. The wall at his back\ncast its shadow broadly over the water to the opposite shore. Above him\nthe endless tramp upon the bridge went on. Esther was holding a plate\nfor him containing his frugal supper\u2014some wheaten cakes, light as\nwafers, some honey, and a bowl of milk, into which he now and then\ndipped the wafers after dipping them into the honey.\n\n\u201cMalluch is a laggard to-night,\u201d he said, showing where his thoughts\nwere.\n\n\u201cDo you believe he will come?\u201d Esther asked.\n\n\u201cUnless he has taken to the sea or the desert, and is yet following on,\nhe will come.\u201d\n\nSimonides spoke with quiet confidence.\n\n\u201cHe may write,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cNot so, Esther. He would have despatched a letter when he found he\ncould not return, and told me so; because I have not received such a\nletter, I know he can come, and will.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope so,\u201d she said, very softly.\n\nSomething in the utterance attracted his attention; it might have been\nthe tone, it might have been the wish. The smallest bird cannot light\nupon the greatest tree without sending a shock to its most distant\nfibre; every mind is at times no less sensitive to the most trifling\nwords.\n\n\u201cYou wish him to come, Esther?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she said, lifting her eyes to his.\n\n\u201cWhy? Can you tell me?\u201d he persisted.\n\n\u201cBecause\u201d\u2014she hesitated, then began again\u2014\u201cbecause the young man is\u2014\u201d\nThe stop was full.\n\n\u201cOur master. Is that the word?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you still think I should not suffer him to go away without telling\nhim to come, if he chooses, and take us\u2014and all we have\u2014all, Esther\u2014the\ngoods, the shekels, the ships, the slaves, and the mighty credit, which\nis a mantle of cloth of gold and finest silver spun for me by the\ngreatest of the angels of men\u2014Success.\u201d\n\nShe made no answer.\n\n\u201cDoes that move you nothing? No?\u201d he said, with the slightest taint of\nbitterness. \u201cWell, well, I have found, Esther, the worst reality is\nnever unendurable when it comes out from behind the clouds through\nwhich we at first see it darkly\u2014never\u2014not even the rack. I suppose it\nwill be so with death. And by that philosophy the slavery to which we\nare going must afterwhile become sweet. It pleases me even now to think\nwhat a favored man our master is. The fortune cost him nothing\u2014not an\nanxiety, not a drop of sweat, not so much as a thought; it attaches to\nhim undreamed of, and in his youth. And, Esther, let me waste a little\nvanity with the reflection; he gets what he could not go into the\nmarket and buy with all the pelf in a sum\u2014thee, my child, my darling;\nthou blossom from the tomb of my lost Rachel!\u201d\n\nHe drew her to him, and kissed her twice\u2014once for herself, once for her\nmother.\n\n\u201cSay not so,\u201d she said, when his hand fell from her neck. \u201cLet us think\nbetter of him; he knows what sorrow is, and will set us free.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, thy instincts are fine, Esther; and thou knowest I lean upon them\nin doubtful cases where good or bad is to be pronounced of a person\nstanding before thee as he stood this morning. But\u2014but\u201d\u2014his voice rose\nand hardened\u2014\u201cthese limbs upon which I cannot stand\u2014this body drawn and\nbeaten out of human shape\u2014they are not all I bring him of myself. Oh\nno, no! I bring him a soul which has triumphed over torture and Roman\nmalice keener than any torture\u2014I bring him a mind which has eyes to see\ngold at a distance farther than the ships of Solomon sailed, and power\nto bring it to hand\u2014ay, Esther, into my palm here for the fingers to\ngrip and keep lest it take wings at some other\u2019s word\u2014a mind skilled at\nscheming\u201d\u2014he stopped and laughed\u2014\u201cWhy, Esther, before the new moon\nwhich in the courts of the Temple on the Holy Hill they are this moment\ncelebrating passes into its next quartering I could ring the world so\nas to startle even C\u00e6sar; for know you, child, I have that faculty\nwhich is better than any one sense, better than a perfect body, better\nthan courage and will, better than experience, ordinarily the best\nproduct of the longest lives\u2014the faculty divinest of men, but which\u201d\u2014he\nstopped, and laughed again, not bitterly, but with real zest\u2014\u201cbut which\neven the great do not sufficiently account, while with the herd it is a\nnon-existent\u2014the faculty of drawing men to my purpose and holding them\nfaithfully to its achievement, by which, as against things to be done,\nI multiply myself into hundreds and thousands. So the captains of my\nships plough the seas, and bring me honest returns; so Malluch follows\nthe youth, our master, and will\u201d\u2014just then a footstep was heard upon\nthe terrace\u2014\u201cHa, Esther! said I not so? He is here\u2014and we will have\ntidings. For thy sake, sweet child\u2014my lily just budded\u2014I pray the Lord\nGod, who has not forgotten his wandering sheep of Israel, that they be\ngood and comforting. Now we will know if he will let thee go with all\nthy beauty, and me with all my faculties.\u201d\n\nMalluch came to the chair.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, good master,\u201d he said, with a low obeisance\u2014\u201cand to you,\nEsther, most excellent of daughters.\u201d\n\nHe stood before them deferentially, and the attitude and the address\nleft it difficult to define his relation to them; the one was that of a\nservant, the other indicated the familiar and friend. On the other\nside, Simonides, as was his habit in business, after answering the\nsalutation went straight to the subject.\n\n\u201cWhat of the young man, Malluch?\u201d\n\nThe events of the day were told quietly and in the simplest words, and\nuntil he was through there was no interruption; nor did the listener in\nthe chair so much as move a hand during the narration; but for his\neyes, wide open and bright, and an occasional long-drawn breath, he\nmight have been accounted an effigy.\n\n\u201cThank you, thank you, Malluch,\u201d he said, heartily, at the conclusion;\n\u201cyou have done well\u2014no one could have done better. Now what say you of\nthe young man\u2019s nationality?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is an Israelite, good master, and of the tribe of Judah.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are positive?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery positive.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe appears to have told you but little of his life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has somewhere learned to be prudent. I might call him distrustful.\nHe baffled all my attempts upon his confidence until we started from\nthe Castalian fount going to the village of Daphne.\u201d\n\n\u201cA place of abomination! Why went he there?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would say from curiosity, the first motive of the many who go; but,\nvery strangely, he took no interest in the things he saw. Of the\nTemple, he merely asked if it were Grecian. Good master, the young man\nhas a trouble of mind from which he would hide, and he went to the\nGrove, I think, as we go to sepulchres with our dead\u2014he went to bury\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat were well, if so,\u201d Simonides said, in a low voice; then louder,\n\u201cMalluch, the curse of the time is prodigality. The poor make\nthemselves poorer as apes of the rich, and the merely rich carry\nthemselves like princes. Saw you signs of the weakness in the youth?\nDid he display moneys\u2014coin of Rome or Israel?\u201d\n\n\u201cNone, none, good master.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely, Malluch, where there are so many inducements to folly\u2014so much,\nI mean, to eat and drink\u2014surely he made you generous offer of some\nsort. His age, if nothing more, would warrant that much.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe neither ate nor drank in my company.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what he said or did, Malluch, could you in anywise detect his\nmaster-idea? You know they peep through cracks close enough to stop the\nwind.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me to understand you,\u201d said Malluch, in doubt.\n\n\u201cWell, you know we nor speak nor act, much less decide grave questions\nconcerning ourselves, except as we be driven by a motive. In that\nrespect, what made you of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs to that, Master Simonides, I can answer with much assurance. He is\ndevoted to finding his mother and sister\u2014that first. Then he has a\ngrievance against Rome; and as the Messala of whom I told you had\nsomething to do with the wrong, the great present object is to\nhumiliate him. The meeting at the fountain furnished an opportunity,\nbut it was put aside as not sufficiently public.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Messala is influential,\u201d said Simonides, thoughtfully.\n\n\u201cYes; but the next meeting will be in the Circus.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell\u2014and then?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe son of Arrius will win.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow know you?\u201d\n\nMalluch smiled.\n\n\u201cI am judging by what he says.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; there is a much better sign\u2014his spirit.\u201d\n\n\u201cAy; but, Malluch, his idea of vengeance\u2014what is its scope? Does he\nlimit it to the few who did him the wrong, or does he take in the many?\nAnd more\u2014is his feeling but the vagary of a sensitive boy, or has it\nthe seasoning of suffering manhood to give it endurance? You know,\nMalluch, the vengeful thought that has root merely in the mind is but a\ndream of idlest sort which one clear day will dissipate; while revenge\nthe passion is a disease of the heart which climbs up, up to the brain,\nand feeds itself on both alike.\u201d\n\nIn this question, Simonides for the first time showed signs of feeling;\nhe spoke with rapid utterance, and with clenched hands and the\neagerness of a man illustrating the disease he described.\n\n\u201cGood my master,\u201d Malluch replied, \u201cone of my reasons for believing the\nyoung man a Jew is the intensity of his hate. It was plain to me he had\nhimself under watch, as was natural, seeing how long he has lived in an\natmosphere of Roman jealousy; yet I saw it blaze\u2014once when he wanted to\nknow Ilderim\u2019s feeling towards Rome, and again when I told him the\nstory of the sheik and the wise man, and spoke of the question, \u2018Where\nis he that is born King of the Jews?\u2019\u201d\n\nSimonides leaned forward quickly.\n\n\u201cAh, Malluch, his words\u2014give me his words; let me judge the impression\nthe mystery made upon him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe wanted to know the exact words. Were they TO BE or BORN TO BE? It\nappeared he was struck by a seeming difference in the effect of the two\nphrases.\u201d\n\nSimonides settled back into his pose of listening judge.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said Malluch, \u201cI told him Ilderim\u2019s view of the mystery\u2014that\nthe king would come with the doom of Rome. The young man\u2019s blood rose\nover his cheeks and forehead, and he said earnestly, \u2018Who but a Herod\ncan be king while Rome endures?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMeaning what?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat the empire must be destroyed before there could be another rule.\u201d\n\nSimonides gazed for a time at the ships and their shadows slowly\nswinging together in the river; when he looked up, it was to end the\ninterview.\n\n\u201cEnough, Malluch,\u201d he said. \u201cGet you to eat, and make ready to return\nto the Orchard of Palms; you must help the young man in his coming\ntrial. Come to me in the morning. I will send a letter to Ilderim.\u201d\nThen in an undertone, as if to himself, he added, \u201cI may attend the\nCircus myself.\u201d\n\nWhen Malluch after the customary benediction given and received was\ngone, Simonides took a deep draught of milk, and seemed refreshed and\neasy of mind.\n\n\u201cPut the meal down, Esther,\u201d he said; \u201cit is over.\u201d\n\nShe obeyed.\n\n\u201cHere now.\u201d\n\nShe resumed her place upon the arm of the chair close to him.\n\n\u201cGod is good to me, very good,\u201d he said, fervently. \u201cHis habit is to\nmove in mystery, yet sometimes he permits us to think we see and\nunderstand him. I am old, dear, and must go; but now, in this eleventh\nhour, when my hope was beginning to die, he sends me this one with a\npromise, and I am lifted up. I see the way to a great part in a\ncircumstance itself so great that it shall be as a new birth to the\nwhole world. And I see a reason for the gift of my great riches, and\nthe end for which they were designed. Verily, my child, I take hold on\nlife anew.\u201d\n\nEsther nestled closer to him, as if to bring his thoughts from their\nfar-flying.\n\n\u201cThe king has been born\u201d he continued, imagining he was still speaking\nto her, \u201cand he must be near the half of common life. Balthasar says he\nwas a child on his mother\u2019s lap when he saw him, and gave him presents\nand worship; and Ilderim holds it was twenty-seven years ago last\nDecember when Balthasar and his companions came to his tent asking a\nhiding-place from Herod. Wherefore the coming cannot now be long\ndelayed. To-night\u2014to-morrow it may be. Holy fathers of Israel, what\nhappiness in the thought! I seem to hear the crash of the falling of\nold walls and the clamor of a universal change\u2014ay, and for the\nuttermost joy of men, the earth opens to take Rome in, and they look up\nand laugh and sing that she is not, while we are;\u201d then he laughed at\nhimself. \u201cWhy, Esther, heard you ever the like? Surely, I have on me\nthe passion of a singer, the heat of blood and the thrill of Miriam and\nDavid. In my thoughts, which should be those of a plain worker in\nfigures and facts, there is a confusion of cymbals clashing and\nharp-strings loud beaten, and the voices of a multitude standing around\na new-risen throne. I will put the thinking by for the present; only,\ndear, when the king comes he will need money and men, for as he was a\nchild born of woman he will be but a man after all, bound to human ways\nas you and I are. And for the money he will have need of getters and\nkeepers, and for the men leaders. There, there! See you not a broad\nroad for my walking, and the running of the youth our master?\u2014and at\nthe end of it glory and revenge for us both?\u2014and\u2014and\u201d\u2014he paused, struck\nwith the selfishness of a scheme in which she had no part or good\nresult; then added, kissing her, \u201cAnd happiness for thy mother\u2019s\nchild.\u201d\n\nShe sat still, saying nothing. Then he remembered the difference in\nnatures, and the law by which we are not permitted always to take\ndelight in the same cause or be equally afraid of the same thing. He\nremembered she was but a girl.\n\n\u201cOf what are you thinking, Esther?\u201d he said, in his common home-like\nway. \u201cIf the thought have the form of a wish, give it me, little one,\nwhile the power remains mine. For power, you know, is a fretful thing,\nand hath its wings always spread for flight.\u201d\n\nShe answered with a simplicity almost childish,\n\n\u201cSend for him, father. Send for him to-night, and do not let him go\ninto the Circus.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d he said, prolonging the exclamation; and again his eyes fell upon\nthe river, where the shadows were more shadowy than ever, since the\nmoon had sunk far down behind Sulpius, leaving the city to the\nineffectual stars. Shall we say it, reader? He was touched by a twinge\nof jealousy. If she should really love the young master! Oh no! That\ncould not be; she was too young. But the idea had fast grip, and\ndirectly held him still and cold. She was sixteen. He knew it well. On\nthe last natal day he had gone with her to the shipyard where there was\na launch, and the yellow flag which the galley bore to its bridal with\nthe waves had on it \u201cEsther;\u201d so they celebrated the day together. Yet\nthe fact struck him now with the force of a surprise. There are\nrealizations which come to us all painfully; mostly, however, such as\npertain to ourselves; that we are growing old, for instance; and, more\nterrible, that we must die. Such a one crept into his heart, shadowy as\nthe shadows, yet substantial enough to wring from him a sigh which was\nalmost a groan. It was not sufficient that she should enter upon her\nyoung womanhood a servant, but she must carry to her master her\naffections, the truth and tenderness and delicacy of which he the\nfather so well knew, because to this time they had all been his own\nundividedly. The fiend whose task it is to torture us with fears and\nbitter thoughts seldom does his work by halves. In the pang of the\nmoment, the brave old man lost sight of his new scheme, and of the\nmiraculous king its subject. By a mighty effort, however, he controlled\nhimself, and asked, calmly, \u201cNot go into the Circus, Esther? Why,\nchild?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not a place for a son of Israel, father.\u201d\n\n\u201cRabbinical, rabbinical, Esther! Is that all?\u201d\n\nThe tone of the inquiry was searching, and went to her heart, which\nbegan to beat loudly\u2014so loudly she could not answer. A confusion new\nand strangely pleasant fell upon her.\n\n\u201cThe young man is to have the fortune,\u201d he said, taking her hand, and\nspeaking more tenderly; \u201che is to have the ships and the shekels\u2014all,\nEsther, all. Yet I did not feel poor, for thou wert left me, and thy\nlove so like the dead Rachel\u2019s. Tell me, is he to have that too?\u201d\n\nShe bent over him, and laid her cheek against his head.\n\n\u201cSpeak, Esther. I will be the stronger of the knowledge. In warning\nthere is strength.\u201d\n\nShe sat up then, and spoke as if she were Truth\u2019s holy self.\n\n\u201cComfort thee, father. I will never leave thee; though he take my love,\nI will be thy handmaid ever as now.\u201d\n\nAnd, stooping, she kissed him.\n\n\u201cAnd more,\u201d she said, continuing: \u201che is comely in my sight, and the\npleading of his voice drew me to him, and I shudder to think of him in\ndanger. Yes, father, I would be more than glad to see him again. Still,\nthe love that is unrequited cannot be perfect love, wherefore I will\nwait a time, remembering I am thy daughter and my mother\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cA very blessing of the Lord art thou, Esther! A blessing to keep me\nrich, though all else be lost. And by his holy name and everlasting\nlife, I swear thou shalt not suffer.\u201d\n\nAt his request, a little later, the servant came and rolled the chair\ninto the room, where he sat for a time thinking of the coming of the\nking, while she went off and slept the sleep of the innocent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nThe palace across the river nearly opposite Simonides\u2019 place is said to\nhave been completed by the famous Epiphanes, and was all such a\nhabitation can be imagined; though he was a builder whose taste ran to\nthe immense rather than the classical, now so called\u2014an architectural\nimitator, in other words, of the Persians instead of the Greeks.\n\nThe wall enclosing the whole island to the waters edge, and built for\nthe double purpose of bulwark against the river and defence against the\nmob, was said to have rendered the palace unfit for constant occupancy,\ninsomuch that the legates abandoned it and moved to another residence\nerected for them on the western ridge of Mount Sulpius, under the\nTemple of Jupiter. Persons were not wanting, however, who flatly denied\nthe bill against the ancient abode. They said, with shrewdness at\nleast, that the real object of the removal of the legates was not a\nmore healthful locality, but the assurance afforded them by the huge\nbarracks, named, according to the prevalent style, citadel, situated\njust over the way on the eastern ridge of the mount. And the opinion\nhad plausible showing. Among other pertinent things, it was remarked\nthat the palace was kept in perpetual readiness for use; and when a\nconsul, general of the army, king, or visiting potentate of any kind\narrived at Antioch, quarters were at once assigned him on the island.\n\nAs we have to do with but one apartment in the old pile, the residue of\nit is left to the reader\u2019s fancy; and as pleases him, he may go through\nits gardens, baths, halls, and labyrinth of rooms to the pavilions on\nthe roof, all furnished as became a house of fame in a city which was\nmore nearly Milton\u2019s \u201cgorgeous East\u201d than any other in the world.\n\nAt this age the apartment alluded to would be termed a saloon. It was\nquite spacious, floored with polished marble slabs, and lighted in the\nday by skylights in which colored mica served as glass. The walls were\nbroken by Atlantes, no two of which were alike, but all supporting a\ncornice wrought with arabesques exceedingly intricate in form, and more\nelegant on account of superadditions of color\u2014blue, green, Tyrian\npurple, and gold. Around the room ran a continuous divan of Indian\nsilks and wool of Cashmere. The furniture consisted of tables and\nstools of Egyptian patterns grotesquely carved. We have left Simonides\nin his chair perfecting his scheme in aid of the miraculous king, whose\ncoming he has decided is so close at hand. Esther is asleep; and now,\nhaving crossed the river by the bridge, and made way through the\nlion-guarded gate and a number of Babylonian halls and courts, let us\nenter the gilded saloon.\n\nThere are five chandeliers hanging by sliding bronze chains from the\nceiling\u2014one in each corner, and in the centre one\u2014enormous pyramids of\nlighted lamps, illuminating even the demoniac faces of the Atlantes and\nthe complex tracery of the cornice. About the tables, seated or\nstanding, or moving restlessly from one to another, there are probably\na hundred persons, whom we must study at least for a moment.\n\nThey are all young, some of them little more than boys. That they are\nItalians and mostly Romans is past doubt. They all speak Latin in\npurity, while each one appears in the in-door dress of the great\ncapital on the Tiber; that is, in tunics short of sleeve and skirt, a\nstyle of vesture well adapted to the climate of Antioch, and especially\ncomfortable in the too close atmosphere of the saloon. On the divan\nhere and there togas and lacernae lie where they have been carelessly\ntossed, some of them significantly bordered with purple. On the divan\nalso lie sleepers stretched at ease; whether they were overcome by the\nheat and fatigue of the sultry day or by Bacchus we will not pause to\ninquire.\n\nThe hum of voices is loud and incessant. Sometimes there is an\nexplosion of laughter, sometimes a burst of rage or exultation; but\nover all prevails a sharp, prolonged rattle, at first somewhat\nconfusing to the non-familiar. If we approach the tables, however, the\nmystery solves itself. The company is at the favorite games, draughts\nand dice, singly or together, and the rattle is merely of the tesserae,\nor ivory cubes, loudly shaken, and the moving of the hostes on the\ncheckered boards.\n\nWho are the company?\n\n\u201cGood Flavius,\u201d said a player, holding his piece in suspended movement,\n\u201cthou seest yon lacerna; that one in front of us on the divan. It is\nfresh from the shop, and hath a shoulder-buckle of gold broad as a\npalm.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Flavius, intent upon his game, \u201cI have seen such before;\nwherefore thine may not be old, yet, by the girdle of Venus, it is not\nnew! What of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing. Only I would give it to find a man who knows everything.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa, ha! For something cheaper, I will find thee here several with\npurple who will take thy offer. But play.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2014check!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo, by all the Jupiters! Now, what sayest thou? Again?\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the wager?\u201d\n\n\u201cA sestertium.\u201d\n\nThen each drew his tablets and stilus and made a memorandum; and, while\nthey were resetting the pieces, Flavius returned to his friend\u2019s\nremark.\n\n\u201cA man who knows everything! Hercle! the oracles would die. What\nwouldst thou with such a monster?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnswer to one question, my Flavius; then, perpol! I would cut his\nthroat.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the question?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would have him tell me the hour\u2014 Hour, said I?\u2014nay, the\nminute\u2014Maxentius will arrive to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood play, good play! I have you! And why the minute?\u201d\n\n\u201cHast thou ever stood uncovered in the Syrian sun on the quay at which\nhe will land? The fires of the Vesta are not so hot; and, by the Stator\nof our father Romulus, I would die, if die I must, in Rome. Avernus is\nhere; there, in the square before the Forum, I could stand, and, with\nmy hand raised thus, touch the floor of the gods. Ha, by Venus, my\nFlavius, thou didst beguile me! I have lost. O Fortune!\u201d\n\n\u201cAgain?\u201d\n\n\u201cI must have back my sestertium.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so.\u201d\n\nAnd they played again and again; and when day, stealing through the\nskylights, began to dim the lamps, it found the two in the same places\nat the same table, still at the game. Like most of the company, they\nwere military attaches of the consul, awaiting his arrival and amusing\nthemselves meantime.\n\nDuring this conversation a party entered the room, and, unnoticed at\nfirst, proceeded to the central table. The signs were that they had\ncome from a revel just dismissed. Some of them kept their feet with\ndifficulty. Around the leader\u2019s brow was a chaplet which marked him\nmaster of the feast, if not the giver. The wine had made no impression\nupon him unless to heighten his beauty, which was of the most manly\nRoman style; he carried his head high raised; the blood flushed his\nlips and cheeks brightly; his eyes glittered; though the manner in\nwhich, shrouded in a toga spotless white and of ample folds, he walked\nwas too nearly imperial for one sober and not a C\u00e6sar. In going to the\ntable, he made room for himself and his followers with little ceremony\nand no apologies; and when at length he stopped, and looked over it and\nat the players, they all turned to him, with a shout like a cheer.\n\n\u201cMessala! Messala!\u201d they cried.\n\nThose in distant quarters, hearing the cry, re-echoed it where they\nwere. Instantly there were dissolution of groups, and breaking-up of\ngames, and a general rush towards the centre.\n\nMessala took the demonstration indifferently, and proceeded presently\nto show the ground of his popularity.\n\n\u201cA health to thee, Drusus, my friend,\u201d he said to the player next at\nhis right; \u201ca health\u2014and thy tablets a moment.\u201d\n\nHe raised the waxen boards, glanced at the memoranda of wagers, and\ntossed them down.\n\n\u201cDenarii, only denarii\u2014coin of cartmen and butchers!\u201d he said, with a\nscornful laugh. \u201cBy the drunken Semele, to what is Rome coming, when a\nC\u00e6sar sits o\u2019 nights waiting a turn of fortune to bring him but a\nbeggarly denarius!\u201d\n\nThe scion of the Drusi reddened to his brows, but the bystanders broke\nin upon his reply by surging closer around the table, and shouting,\n\u201cThe Messala! the Messala!\u201d\n\n\u201cMen of the Tiber,\u201d Messala continued, wresting a box with the dice in\nit from a hand near-by, \u201cwho is he most favored of the gods? A Roman.\nWho is he lawgiver of the nations? A Roman. Who is he, by sword right,\nthe universal master?\u201d\n\nThe company were of the easily inspired, and the thought was one to\nwhich they were born; in a twinkling they snatched the answer from him.\n\n\u201cA Roman, a Roman!\u201d they shouted.\n\n\u201cYet\u2014yet\u201d\u2014he lingered to catch their ears\u2014\u201cyet there is a better than\nthe best of Rome.\u201d\n\nHe tossed his patrician head and paused, as if to sting them with his\nsneer.\n\n\u201cHear ye?\u201d he asked. \u201cThere is a better than the best of Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cAy\u2014Hercules!\u201d cried one.\n\n\u201cBacchus!\u201d yelled a satirist.\n\n\u201cJove\u2014Jove!\u201d thundered the crowd.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d Messala answered, \u201camong men.\u201d\n\n\u201cName him, name him!\u201d they demanded.\n\n\u201cI will,\u201d he said, the next lull. \u201cHe who to the perfection of Rome\nhath added the perfection of the East; who to the arm of conquest,\nwhich is Western, hath also the art needful to the enjoyment of\ndominion, which is Eastern.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerpol! His best is a Roman, after all,\u201d some one shouted; and there\nwas a great laugh, and long clapping of hands\u2014an admission that Messala\nhad the advantage.\n\n\u201cIn the East\u201d he continued, \u201cwe have no gods, only Wine, Women, and\nFortune, and the greatest of them is Fortune; wherefore our motto, \u2018Who\ndareth what I dare?\u2019\u2014fit for the senate, fit for battle, fittest for\nhim who, seeking the best, challenges the worst.\u201d\n\nHis voice dropped into an easy, familiar tone, but without relaxing the\nascendancy he had gained.\n\n\u201cIn the great chest up in the citadel I have five talents coin current\nin the markets, and here are the receipts for them.\u201d\n\nFrom his tunic he drew a roll of paper, and, flinging it on the table,\ncontinued, amidst breathless silence, every eye having him in view\nfixed on his, every ear listening:\n\n\u201cThe sum lies there the measure of what I dare. Who of you dares so\nmuch! You are silent. Is it too great? I will strike off one talent.\nWhat! still silent? Come, then, throw me once for these three\ntalents\u2014only three; for two; for one\u2014one at least\u2014one for the honor of\nthe river by which you were born\u2014Rome East against Rome West!\u2014Orontes\nthe barbarous against Tiber the sacred!\u201d\n\nHe rattled the dice overhead while waiting.\n\n\u201cThe Orontes against the Tiber!\u201d he repeated, with an increase of\nscornful emphasis.\n\nNot a man moved; then he flung the box upon the table and, laughing,\ntook up the receipts.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha! By the Olympian Jove, I know now ye have fortunes to make\nor to mend; therefore are ye come to Antioch. Ho, Cecilius!\u201d\n\n\u201cHere, Messala!\u201d cried a man behind him; \u201chere am I, perishing in the\nmob, and begging a drachma to settle with the ragged ferryman. But,\nPluto take me! these new ones have not so much as an obolus among\nthem.\u201d\n\nThe sally provoked a burst of laughter, under which the saloon rang and\nrang again. Messala alone kept his gravity.\n\n\u201cGo, thou,\u201d he said to Cecilius, \u201cto the chamber whence we came, and\nbid the servants bring the amphorae here, and the cups and goblets. If\nthese our countrymen, looking for fortune, have not purses, by the\nSyrian Bacchus, I will see if they are not better blessed with\nstomachs! Haste thee!\u201d\n\nThen he turned to Drusus, with a laugh heard throughout the apartment.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, my friend! Be thou not offended because I levelled the C\u00e6sar\nin thee down to the denarii. Thou seest I did but use the name to try\nthese fine fledglings of our old Rome. Come, my Drusus, come!\u201d He took\nup the box again and rattled the dice merrily. \u201cHere, for what sum thou\nwilt, let us measure fortunes.\u201d\n\nThe manner was frank, cordial, winsome. Drusus melted in a moment.\n\n\u201cBy the Nymphae, yes!\u201d he said, laughing. \u201cI will throw with thee,\nMessala\u2014for a denarius.\u201d\n\nA very boyish person was looking over the table watching the scene.\nSuddenly Messala turned to him.\n\n\u201cWho art thou?\u201d he asked.\n\nThe lad drew back.\n\n\u201cNay, by Castor! and his brother too! I meant not offence. It is a rule\namong men, in matters other than dice, to keep the record closest when\nthe deal is least. I have need of a clerk. Wilt thou serve me?\u201d\n\nThe young fellow drew his tablets ready to keep the score: the manner\nwas irresistible.\n\n\u201cHold, Messala, hold!\u201d cried Drusus. \u201cI know not if it be ominous to\nstay the poised dice with a question; but one occurs to me, and I must\nask it though Venus slap me with her girdle.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, my Drusus, Venus with her girdle off is Venus in love. To thy\nquestion\u2014I will make the throw and hold it against mischance. Thus\u2014\u201d\n\nHe turned the box upon the table and held it firmly over the dice.\n\nAnd Drusus asked, \u201cDid you ever see one Quintus Arrius?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe duumvir?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2014his son?\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew not he had a son.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it is nothing,\u201d Drusus added, indifferently; \u201conly, my Messala,\nPollux was not more like Castor than Arrius is like thee.\u201d\n\nThe remark had the effect of a signal: twenty voices took it up.\n\n\u201cTrue, true! His eyes\u2014his face,\u201d they cried.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d answered one, disgusted. \u201cMessala is a Roman; Arrius is a Jew.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou sayest right,\u201d a third exclaimed. \u201cHe is a Jew, or Momus lent his\nmother the wrong mask.\u201d\n\nThere was promise of a dispute; seeing which, Messala interposed. \u201cThe\nwine is not come, my Drusus; and, as thou seest, I have the freckled\nPythias as they were dogs in leash. As to Arrius, I will accept thy\nopinion of him, so thou tell me more about him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, be he Jew or Roman\u2014and, by the great god Pan, I say it not in\ndisrespect of thy feelings, my Messala!\u2014this Arrius is handsome and\nbrave and shrewd. The emperor offered him favor and patronage, which he\nrefused. He came up through mystery, and keepeth distance as if he felt\nhimself better or knew himself worse than the rest of us. In the\npalaestrae he was unmatched; he played with the blue-eyed giants from\nthe Rhine and the hornless bulls of Sarmatia as they were willow wisps.\nThe duumvir left him vastly rich. He has a passion for arms, and thinks\nof nothing but war. Maxentius admitted him into his family, and he was\nto have taken ship with us, but we lost him at Ravenna. Nevertheless he\narrived safely. We heard of him this morning. Perpol! Instead of coming\nto the palace or going to the citadel, he dropped his baggage at the\nkhan, and hath disappeared again.\u201d\n\nAt the beginning of the speech Messala listened with polite\nindifference; as it proceeded, he became more attentive; at the\nconclusion, he took his hand from the dice-box, and called out, \u201cHo, my\nCaius! Dost thou hear?\u201d\n\nA youth at his elbow\u2014his Myrtilus, or comrade, in the day\u2019s chariot\npractice\u2014answered, much pleased with the attention, \u201cDid I not, my\nMessala, I were not thy friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cDost thou remember the man who gave thee the fall to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the love-locks of Bacchus, have I not a bruised shoulder to help me\nkeep it in mind?\u201d and he seconded the words with a shrug that submerged\nhis ears.\n\n\u201cWell, be thou grateful to the Fates\u2014I have found thy enemy. Listen.\u201d\n\nThereupon Messala turned to Drusus.\n\n\u201cTell us more of him\u2014perpol!\u2014of him who is both Jew and Roman\u2014by\nPhoebus, a combination to make a Centaur lovely! What garments doth he\naffect, my Drusus?\u201d\n\n\u201cThose of the Jews.\u201d\n\n\u201cHearest thou, Caius?\u201d said Messala. \u201cThe fellow is young\u2014one; he hath\nthe visage of a Roman\u2014two; he loveth best the garb of a Jew\u2014three; and\nin the palaestrae fame and fortune come of arms to throw a horse or\ntilt a chariot, as the necessity may order\u2014four. And, Drusus, help thou\nmy friend again. Doubtless this Arrius hath tricks of language;\notherwise he could not so confound himself, to-day a Jew, to-morrow a\nRoman; but of the rich tongue of Athene\u2014discourseth he in that as\nwell?\u201d\n\n\u201cWith such purity, Messala, he might have been a contestant in the\nIsthmia.\u201d\n\n\u201cArt thou listening, Caius?\u201d said Messala. \u201cThe fellow is qualified to\nsalute a woman\u2014for that matter Aristomache herself\u2014in the Greek; and as\nI keep the count, that is five. What sayest thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cThou hast found him, my Messala,\u201d Caius answered; \u201cor I am not\nmyself.\u201d\n\n\u201cThy pardon, Drusus\u2014and pardon of all\u2014for speaking in riddles thus,\u201d\nMessala said, in his winsome way. \u201cBy all the decent gods, I would not\nstrain thy courtesy to the point of breaking, but now help thou me.\nSee!\u201d\u2014he put his hand on the dice-box again, laughing\u2014\u201cSee how close I\nhold the Pythias and their secret! Thou didst speak, I think, of\nmystery in connection with the coming of the son of Arrius. Tell me of\nthat.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis nothing, Messala, nothing,\u201d Drusus replied; \u201ca child\u2019s story.\nWhen Arrius, the father, sailed in pursuit of the pirates, he was\nwithout wife or family; he returned with a boy\u2014him of whom we speak\u2014and\nnext day adopted him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAdopted him?\u201d Messala repeated. \u201cBy the gods, Drusus, thou dost,\nindeed, interest me! Where did the duumvir find the boy? And who was\nhe?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho shall answer thee that, Messala? who but the young Arrius himself?\nPerpol! in the fight the duumvir\u2014then but a tribune\u2014lost his galley. A\nreturning vessel found him and one other\u2014all of the crew who\nsurvived\u2014afloat upon the same plank. I give you now the story of the\nrescuers, which hath this excellence at least\u2014it hath never been\ncontradicted. They say, the duumvir\u2019s companion on the plank was a\nJew\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cA Jew!\u201d echoed Messala.\n\n\u201cAnd a slave.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow Drusus? A slave?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen the two were lifted to the deck, the duumvir was in his tribune\u2019s\narmor, and the other in the vesture of a rower.\u201d\n\nMessala rose from leaning against the table.\n\n\u201cA galley\u201d\u2014he checked the debasing word, and looked around, for once in\nhis life at loss. Just then a procession of slaves filed into the room,\nsome with great jars of wine, others with baskets of fruits and\nconfections, others again with cups and flagons, mostly silver. There\nwas inspiration in the sight. Instantly Messala climbed upon a stool.\n\n\u201cMen of the Tiber,\u201d he said, in a clear voice, \u201clet us turn this\nwaiting for our chief into a feast of Bacchus. Whom choose ye for\nmaster?\u201d\n\nDrusus arose.\n\n\u201cWho shall be master but the giver of the feast?\u201d he said. \u201cAnswer,\nRomans.\u201d\n\nThey gave their reply in a shout.\n\nMessala took the chaplet from his head, gave it to Drusus, who climbed\nupon the table, and, in the view of all, solemnly replaced it, making\nMessala master of the night.\n\n\u201cThere came with me into the room,\u201d he said, \u201csome friends just risen\nfrom table. That our feast may have the approval of sacred custom,\nbring hither that one of them most overcome by wine.\u201d\n\nA din of voices answered, \u201cHere he is, here he is!\u201d\n\nAnd from the floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward, so\neffeminately beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-god\nhimself\u2014only the crown would have dropped from his head, and the\nthyrsus from his hand.\n\n\u201cLift him upon the table,\u201d the master said.\n\nIt was found he could not sit.\n\n\u201cHelp him, Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee.\u201d\n\nDrusus took the inebriate in his arms.\n\nThen addressing the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profound silence,\n\u201cO Bacchus! greatest of the gods, be thou propitious to-night. And for\nmyself, and these thy votaries, I vow this chaplet\u201d\u2014and from his head\nhe raised it reverently\u2014\u201cI vow this chaplet to thy altar in the Grove\nof Daphne.\u201d\n\nHe bowed, replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped and uncovered\nthe dice, saying, with a laugh, \u201cSee, my Drusus, by the ass of Silenus,\nthe denarius is mine!\u201d\n\nThere was a shout that set the floor to quaking, and the grim Atlantes\nto dancing, and the orgies began.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\nSheik Ilderim was a man of too much importance to go about with a small\nestablishment. He had a reputation to keep with his tribe, such as\nbecame a prince and patriarch of the greatest following in all the\nDesert east of Syria; with the people of the cities he had another\nreputation, which was that of one of the richest personages not a king\nin all the East; and, being rich in fact\u2014in money as well as in\nservants, camels, horses, and flocks of all kinds\u2014he took pleasure in a\ncertain state, which, besides magnifying his dignity with strangers,\ncontributed to his personal pride and comfort. Wherefore the reader\nmust not be misled by the frequent reference to his tent in the Orchard\nof Palms. He had there really a respectable dowar; that is to say, he\nhad there three large tents\u2014one for himself, one for visitors, one for\nhis favorite wife and her women; and six or eight lesser ones, occupied\nby his servants and such tribal retainers as he had chosen to bring\nwith him as a body-guard\u2014strong men of approved courage, and skillful\nwith bow, spear, and horses.\n\nTo be sure, his property of whatever kind was in no danger at the\nOrchard; yet as the habits of a man go with him to town not less than\nthe country, and as it is never wise to slip the bands of discipline,\nthe interior of the dowar was devoted to his cows, camels, goats, and\nsuch property in general as might tempt a lion or a thief.\n\nTo do him full justice, Ilderim kept well all the customs of his\npeople, abating none, not even the smallest; in consequence his life at\nthe Orchard was a continuation of his life in the Desert; nor that\nalone, it was a fair reproduction of the old patriarchal modes\u2014the\ngenuine pastoral life of primitive Israel.\n\nRecurring to the morning the caravan arrived at the Orchard\u2014\u201cHere,\nplant it here,\u201d he said, stopping his horse, and thrusting a spear into\nthe ground. \u201cDoor to the south; the lake before it thus; and these, the\nchildren of the Desert, to sit under at the going-down of the sun.\u201d\n\nAt the last words he went to a group of three great palm-trees, and\npatted one of them as he would have patted his horse\u2019s neck, or the\ncheek of the child of his love.\n\nWho but the sheik could of right say to the caravan, Halt! or of the\ntent, Here be it pitched? The spear was wrested from the ground, and\nover the wound it had riven in the sod the base of the first pillar of\nthe tent was planted, marking the centre of the front door. Then eight\nothers were planted\u2014in all, three rows of pillars, three in a row.\nThen, at call, the women and children came, and unfolded the canvas\nfrom its packing on the camels. Who might do this but the women? Had\nthey not sheared the hair from the brown goats of the flock? and\ntwisted it into thread? and woven the thread into cloth? and stitched\nthe cloth together, making the perfect roof, dark-brown in fact, though\nin the distance black as the tents of Kedar? And, finally, with what\njests and laughter, and pulls altogether, the united following of the\nsheik stretched the canvas from pillar to pillar, driving the stakes\nand fastening the cords as they went! And when the walls of open reed\nmatting were put in place\u2014the finishing-touch to the building after the\nstyle of the Desert\u2014with what hush of anxiety they waited the good\nman\u2019s judgment! When he walked in and out, looking at the house in\nconnection with the sun, the trees, and the lake, and said, rubbing his\nhands with might of heartiness, \u201cWell done! Make the dowar now as ye\nwell know, and to-night we will sweeten the bread with arrack, and the\nmilk with honey, and at every fire there shall be a kid. God with ye!\nWant of sweet water there shall not be, for the lake is our well;\nneither shall the bearers of burden hunger, or the least of the flock,\nfor here is green pasture also. God with you all, my children! Go.\u201d\n\nAnd, shouting, the many happy went their ways then to pitch their own\nhabitations. A few remained to arrange the interior for the sheik; and\nof these the men-servants hung a curtain to the central row of pillars,\nmaking two apartments; the one on the right sacred to Ilderim himself,\nthe other sacred to his horses\u2014his jewels of Solomon\u2014which they led in,\nand with kisses and love-taps set at liberty. Against the middle pillar\nthey then erected the arms-rack, and filled it with javelins and\nspears, and bows, arrows, and shields; outside of them hanging the\nmaster\u2019s sword, modelled after the new moon; and the glitter of its\nblade rivalled the glitter of the jewels bedded in its grip. Upon one\nend of the rack they hung the housings of the horses, gay some of them\nas the livery of a king\u2019s servant, while on the other end they\ndisplayed the great man\u2019s wearing apparel\u2014his robes woollen and robes\nlinen, his tunics and trousers, and many colored kerchiefs for the\nhead. Nor did they give over the work until he pronounced it well.\n\nMeantime the women drew out and set up the divan, more indispensable to\nhim than the beard down-flowing over his breast, white as Aaron\u2019s. They\nput a frame together in shape of three sides of a square, the opening\nto the door, and covered it with cushions and base curtains, and the\ncushions with a changeable spread striped brown and yellow; at the\ncorners they placed pillows and bolsters sacked in cloth blue and\ncrimson; then around the divan they laid a margin of carpet, and the\ninner space they carpeted as well; and when the carpet was carried from\nthe opening of the divan to the door of the tent, their work was done;\nwhereupon they again waited until the master said it was good. Nothing\nremained then but to bring and fill the jars with water, and hang the\nskin bottles of arrack ready for the hand\u2014to-morrow the leben. Nor\nmight an Arab see why Ilderim should not be both happy and generous\u2014in\nhis tent by the lake of sweet waters, under the palms of the Orchard of\nPalms.\n\nSuch was the tent at the door of which we left Ben-Hur.\n\nServants were already waiting the master\u2019s direction. One of them took\noff his sandals; another unlatched Ben-Hur\u2019s Roman shoes; then the two\nexchanged their dusty outer garments for fresh ones of white linen.\n\n\u201cEnter\u2014in God\u2019s name, enter, and take thy rest,\u201d said the host,\nheartily, in the dialect of the Market-place of Jerusalem; forthwith he\nled the way to the divan.\n\n\u201cI will sit here,\u201d he said next, pointing; \u201cand there the stranger.\u201d\n\nA woman\u2014in the old time she would have been called a handmaid\u2014answered,\nand dexterously piled the pillows and bolsters as rests for the back;\nafter which they sat upon the side of the divan, while water was\nbrought fresh from the lake, and their feet bathed and dried with\nnapkins.\n\n\u201cWe have a saying in the Desert,\u201d Ilderim began, gathering his beard,\nand combing it with his slender fingers, \u201cthat a good appetite is the\npromise of a long life. Hast thou such?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy that rule, good sheik, I will live a hundred years. I am a hungry\nwolf at thy door,\u201d Ben-Hur replied.\n\n\u201cWell, thou shalt not be sent away like a wolf. I will give thee the\nbest of the flocks.\u201d\n\nIlderim clapped his hands.\n\n\u201cSeek the stranger in the guest-tent, and say I, Ilderim, send him a\nprayer that his peace may be as incessant as the flowing of waters.\u201d\n\nThe man in waiting bowed.\n\n\u201cSay, also,\u201d Ilderim continued, \u201cthat I have returned with another for\nbreaking of bread; and, if Balthasar the wise careth to share the loaf,\nthree may partake of it, and the portion of the birds be none the\nless.\u201d\n\nThe second servant went away.\n\n\u201cLet us take our rest now.\u201d\n\nThereupon Ilderim settled himself upon the divan, as at this day\nmerchants sit on their rugs in the bazaars of Damascus; and when fairly\nat rest, he stopped combing his beard, and said, gravely, \u201cThat thou\nart my guest, and hast drunk my leben, and art about to taste my salt,\nought not to forbid a question: Who art thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cSheik Ilderim,\u201d said Ben-Hur, calmly enduring his gaze, \u201cI pray thee\nnot to think me trifling with thy just demand; but was there never a\ntime in thy life when to answer such a question would have been a crime\nto thyself?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the splendor of Solomon, yes!\u201d Ilderim answered. \u201cBetrayal of self\nis at times as base as the betrayal of a tribe.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, thanks, good sheik!\u201d Ben-Hur exclaimed.\n\n\u201cNever answer became thee better. Now I know thou dost but seek\nassurance to justify the trust I have come to ask, and that such\nassurance is of more interest to thee than the affairs of my poor\nlife.\u201d\n\nThe sheik in his turn bowed, and Ben-Hur hastened to pursue his\nadvantage.\n\n\u201cSo it please thee then,\u201d he said, \u201cfirst, I am not a Roman, as the\nname given thee as mine implieth.\u201d\n\nIlderim clasped the beard overflowing his breast, and gazed at the\nspeaker with eyes faintly twinkling through the shade of the heavy\nclose-drawn brows.\n\n\u201cIn the next place,\u201d Ben-Hur continued, \u201cI am an Israelite of the tribe\nof Judah.\u201d\n\nThe sheik raised his brows a little.\n\n\u201cNor that merely. Sheik, I am a Jew with a grievance against Rome\ncompared with which thine is not more than a child\u2019s trouble.\u201d\n\nThe old man combed his beard with nervous haste, and let fall his brows\nuntil even the twinkle of the eyes went out.\n\n\u201cStill further: I swear to thee, Sheik Ilderim\u2014I swear by the covenant\nthe Lord made with my fathers\u2014so thou but give me the revenge I seek,\nthe money and the glory of the race shall be thine.\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s brows relaxed; his head arose; his face began to beam; and it\nwas almost possible to see the satisfaction taking possession of him.\n\n\u201cEnough!\u201d he said. \u201cIf at the roots of thy tongue there is a lie in\ncoil, Solomon himself had not been safe against thee. That thou art not\na Roman\u2014that as a Jew thou hast a grievance against Rome, and revenge\nto compass, I believe; and on that score enough. But as to thy skill.\nWhat experience hast thou in racing with chariots? And the horses\u2014canst\nthou make them creatures of thy will?\u2014to know thee? to come at call? to\ngo, if thou sayest it, to the last extreme of breath and strength? and\nthen, in the perishing moment, out of the depths of thy life thrill\nthem to one exertion the mightiest of all? The gift, my son, is not to\nevery one. Ah, by the splendor of God! I knew a king who governed\nmillions of men, their perfect master, but could not win the respect of\na horse. Mark! I speak not of the dull brutes whose round it is to\nslave for slaves\u2014the debased in blood and image\u2014the dead in spirit; but\nof such as mine here\u2014the kings of their kind; of a lineage reaching\nback to the broods of the first Pharaoh; my comrades and friends,\ndwellers in tents, whom long association with me has brought up to my\nplane; who to their instincts have added our wits and to their senses\njoined our souls, until they feel all we know of ambition, love, hate,\nand contempt; in war, heroes; in trust, faithful as women. Ho, there!\u201d\n\nA servant came forward.\n\n\u201cLet my Arabs come!\u201d\n\nThe man drew aside part of the division curtain of the tent, exposing\nto view a group of horses, who lingered a moment where they were as if\nto make certain of the invitation.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d Ilderim said to them. \u201cWhy stand ye there? What have I that is\nnot yours? Come, I say!\u201d\n\nThey stalked slowly in.\n\n\u201cSon of Israel,\u201d the master said, \u201cthy Moses was a mighty man, but\u2014ha,\nha ha!\u2014I must laugh when I think of his allowing thy fathers the\nplodding ox and the dull, slow-natured ass, and forbidding them\nproperty in horses. Ha, ha, ha! Thinkest thou he would have done so had\nhe seen that one\u2014and that\u2014and this?\u201d At the word he laid his hand upon\nthe face of the first to reach him, and patted it with infinite pride\nand tenderness.\n\n\u201cIt is a misjudgment, sheik, a misjudgment,\u201d Ben-Hur said, warmly.\n\u201cMoses was a warrior as well as a lawgiver beloved by God; and to\nfollow war\u2014ah, what is it but to love all its creatures\u2014these among the\nrest?\u201d\n\nA head of exquisite turn\u2014with large eyes, soft as a deer\u2019s, and half\nhidden by the dense forelock, and small ears, sharp-pointed and sloped\nwell forward\u2014approached then quite to his breast, the nostrils open,\nand the upper lip in motion. \u201cWho are you?\u201d it asked, plainly as ever\nman spoke. Ben-Hur recognized one of the four racers he had seen on the\ncourse, and gave his open hand to the beautiful brute.\n\n\u201cThey will tell you, the blasphemers!\u2014may their days shorten as they\ngrow fewer!\u201d\u2014the sheik spoke with the feeling of a man repelling a\npersonal defamation\u2014\u201cthey will tell you, I say, that our horses of the\nbest blood are derived from the Nesaean pastures of Persia. God gave\nthe first Arab a measureless waste of sand, with some treeless\nmountains, and here and there a well of bitter waters; and said to him,\n\u2018Behold thy country!\u2019 And when the poor man complained, the Mighty One\npitied him, and said again, \u2018Be of cheer! for I will twice bless thee\nabove other men.\u2019 The Arab heard, and gave thanks, and with faith set\nout to find the blessings. He travelled all the boundaries first, and\nfailed; then he made a path into the desert, and went on and on\u2014and in\nthe heart of the waste there was an island of green very beautiful to\nsee; and in the heart of the island, lo! a herd of camels, and another\nof horses! He took them joyfully and kept them with care for what they\nwere\u2014best gifts of God. And from that green isle went forth all the\nhorses of the earth; even to the pastures of Nesaea they went; and\nnorthward to the dreadful vales perpetually threshed by blasts from the\nSea of Chill Winds. Doubt not the story; or if thou dost, may never\namulet have charm for an Arab again. Nay, I will give thee proof.\u201d\n\nHe clapped his hands.\n\n\u201cBring me the records of the tribe,\u201d he said to the servant who\nresponded.\n\nWhile waiting, the sheik played with the horses, patting their cheeks,\ncombing their forelocks with his fingers, giving each one a token of\nremembrance. Presently six men appeared with chests of cedar reinforced\nby bands of brass, and hinged and bolted with brass.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Ilderim, when they were all set down by the divan, \u201cI meant\nnot all of them; only the records of the horses\u2014that one. Open it and\ntake back the others.\u201d\n\nThe chest was opened, disclosing a mass of ivory tablets strung on\nrings of silver wire; and as the tablets were scarcely thicker than\nwafers, each ring held several hundreds of them.\n\n\u201cI know,\u201d said Ilderim, taking some of the rings in his hand\u2014\u201cI know\nwith what care and zeal, my son, the scribes of the Temple in the Holy\nCity keep the names of the newly born, that every son of Israel may\ntrace his line of ancestry to its beginning, though it antedate the\npatriarchs. My fathers\u2014may the recollection of them be green\nforever!\u2014did not think it sinful to borrow the idea, and apply it to\ntheir dumb servants. See these tablets!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took the rings, and separating the tablets saw they bore rude\nhieroglyphs in Arabic, burned on the smooth surface by a sharp point of\nheated metal.\n\n\u201cCanst thou read them, O son of Israel?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. Thou must tell me their meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cKnow thou, then, each tablet records the name of a foal of the pure\nblood born to my fathers through the hundreds of years passed; and also\nthe names of sire and dam. Take them, and note their age, that thou\nmayst the more readily believe.\u201d\n\nSome of the tablets were nearly worn away. All were yellow with age.\n\n\u201cIn the chest there, I can tell thee now, I have the perfect history;\nperfect because certified as history seldom is\u2014showing of what stock\nall these are sprung\u2014this one, and that now supplicating thy notice and\ncaress; and as they come to us here, their sires, even the furthest\nremoved in time, came to my sires, under a tent-roof like this of mine,\nto eat their measure of barley from the open hand, and be talked to as\nchildren; and as children kiss the thanks they have not speech to\nexpress. And now, O son of Israel, thou mayst believe my declaration\u2014if\nI am a lord of the Desert, behold my ministers! Take them from me, and\nI become as a sick man left by the caravan to die. Thanks to them, age\nhath not diminished the terror of me on the highways between cities;\nand it will not while I have strength to go with them. Ha, ha, ha! I\ncould tell thee marvels done by their ancestors. In a favoring time I\nmay do so; for the present, enough that they were never overtaken in\nretreat; nor, by the sword of Solomon, did they ever fail in pursuit!\nThat, mark you, on the sands and under saddle; but now\u2014I do not know\u2014I\nam afraid, for they are under yoke the first time, and the conditions\nof success are so many. They have the pride and the speed and the\nendurance. If I find them a master, they will win. Son of Israel! so\nthou art the man, I swear it shall be a happy day that brought thee\nthither. Of thyself now speak.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know now,\u201d said Ben-Hur, \u201cwhy it is that in the love of an Arab his\nhorse is next to his children; and I know, also, why the Arab horses\nare the best in the world; but, good sheik, I would not have you judge\nme by words alone; for, as you know, all promises of men sometimes\nfail. Give me the trial first on some plain hereabout, and put the four\nin my hand to-morrow.\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s face beamed again, and he would have spoken.\n\n\u201cA moment, good sheik, a moment!\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cLet me say further.\nFrom the masters in Rome I learned many lessons, little thinking they\nwould serve me in a time like this. I tell thee these thy sons of the\nDesert, though they have separately the speed of eagles and the\nendurance of lions, will fail if they are not trained to run together\nunder the yoke. For bethink thee, sheik, in every four there is one the\nslowest and one the swiftest; and while the race is always to the\nslowest, the trouble is always with the swiftest. It was so to-day; the\ndriver could not reduce the best to harmonious action with the poorest.\nMy trial may have no better result; but if so, I will tell thee of it:\nthat I swear. Wherefore, in the same spirit I say, can I get them to\nrun together, moved by my will, the four as one, thou shalt have the\nsestertii and the crown, and I my revenge. What sayest thou?\u201d\n\nIlderim listened, combing his beard the while. At the end he said, with\na laugh, \u201cI think better of thee, son of Israel. We have a saying in\nthe Desert, \u2018If you will cook the meal with words, I will promise an\nocean of butter.\u2019 Thou shalt have the horses in the morning.\u201d\n\nAt that moment there was a stir at the rear entrance to the tent.\n\n\u201cThe supper\u2014it is here! and yonder my friend Balthasar, whom thou shalt\nknow. He hath a story to tell which an Israelite should never tire of\nhearing.\u201d\n\nAnd to the servants he added,\n\n\u201cTake the records away, and return my jewels to their apartment.\u201d\n\nAnd they did as he ordered.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\nIf the reader will return now to the repast of the wise men at their\nmeeting in the desert, he will understand the preparations for the\nsupper in Ilderim\u2019s tent. The differences were chiefly such as were\nincident to ampler means and better service.\n\nThree rugs were spread on the carpet within the space so nearly\nenclosed by the divan; a table not more than a foot in height was\nbrought and set within the same place, and covered with a cloth. Off to\none side a portable earthenware oven was established under the\npresidency of a woman whose duty it was to keep the company in bread,\nor, more precisely, in hot cakes of flour from the handmills grinding\nwith constant sound in a neighboring tent.\n\nMeanwhile Balthasar was conducted to the divan, where Ilderim and\nBen-Hur received him standing. A loose black gown covered his person;\nhis step was feeble, and his whole movement slow and cautious,\napparently dependent upon a long staff and the arm of a servant.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, my friend,\u201d said Ilderim, respectfully. \u201cPeace and\nwelcome.\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian raised his head and replied, \u201cAnd to thee, good sheik\u2014to\nthee and thine, peace and the blessing of the One God\u2014God the true and\nloving.\u201d\n\nThe manner was gentle and devout, and impressed Ben-Hur with a feeling\nof awe; besides which the blessing included in the answering salutation\nhad been partly addressed to him, and while that part was being spoken,\nthe eyes of the aged guest, hollow yet luminous, rested upon his face\nlong enough to stir an emotion new and mysterious, and so strong that\nhe again and again during the repast scanned the much wrinkled and\nbloodless face for its meaning; but always there was the expression\nbland, placid, and trustful as a child\u2019s. A little later he found that\nexpression habitual.\n\n\u201cThis is he, O Balthasar,\u201d said the sheik, laying his hand on Ben-Hur\u2019s\narm, \u201cwho will break bread with us this evening.\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian glanced at the young man, and looked again surprised and\ndoubting; seeing which the sheik continued, \u201cI have promised him my\nhorses for trial to-morrow; and if all goes well, he will drive them in\nthe Circus.\u201d\n\nBalthasar continued his gaze.\n\n\u201cHe came well recommended,\u201d Ilderim pursued, much puzzled. \u201cYou may\nknow him as the son of Arrius, who was a noble Roman sailor,\nthough\u201d\u2014the sheik hesitated, then resumed, with a laugh\u2014\u201cthough he\ndeclares himself an Israelite of the tribe of Judah; and, by the\nsplendor of God, I believe what he tells me!\u201d\n\nBalthasar could no longer withhold explanation.\n\n\u201cTo-day, O most generous sheik, my life was in peril, and would have\nbeen lost had not a youth, the counterpart of this one\u2014if, indeed, he\nbe not the very same\u2014intervened when all others fled, and saved me.\u201d\nThen he addressed Ben-Hur directly, \u201cArt thou not he?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot answer so far,\u201d Ben-Hur replied, with modest deference. \u201cI am\nhe who stopped the horses of the insolent Roman when they were rushing\nupon thy camel at the Fountain of Castalia. Thy daughter left a cup\nwith me.\u201d\n\nFrom the bosom of his tunic he produced the cup, and gave it to\nBalthasar.\n\nA glow lighted the faded countenance of the Egyptian.\n\n\u201cThe Lord sent thee to me at the Fountain to-day,\u201d he said, in a\ntremulous voice, stretching his hand towards Ben-Hur; \u201cand he sends\nthee to me now. I give him thanks; and praise him thou, for of his\nfavor I have wherewith to give thee great reward, and I will. The cup\nis thine; keep it.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took back the gift, and Balthasar, seeing the inquiry upon\nIlderim\u2019s face, related the occurrence at the Fountain.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d said the sheik to Ben-Hur. \u201cThou saidst nothing of this to me,\nwhen better recommendation thou couldst not have brought. Am I not an\nArab, and sheik of my tribe of tens of thousands? And is not he my\nguest? And is it not in my guest-bond that the good or evil thou dost\nhim is good or evil done to me? Whither shouldst thou go for reward but\nhere? And whose the hand to give it but mine?\u201d\n\nHis voice at the end of the speech rose to cutting shrillness.\n\n\u201cGood sheik, spare me, I pray. I came not for reward, great or small;\nand that I may be acquitted of the thought, I say the help I gave this\nexcellent man would have been given as well to thy humblest servant.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he is my friend, my guest\u2014not my servant; and seest thou not in\nthe difference the favor of Fortune?\u201d Then to Balthasar the sheik\nsubjoined, \u201cAh, by the splendor of God! I tell thee again he is not a\nRoman.\u201d\n\nWith that he turned away, and gave attention to the servants, whose\npreparations for the supper were about complete.\n\nThe reader who recollects the history of Balthasar as given by himself\nat the meeting in the desert will understand the effect of Ben-Hur\u2019s\nassertion of disinterestedness upon that worthy. In his devotion to men\nthere had been, it will be remembered, no distinctions; while the\nredemption which had been promised him in the way of reward\u2014the\nredemption for which he was waiting\u2014was universal. To him, therefore,\nthe assertion sounded somewhat like an echo of himself. He took a step\nnearer Ben-Hur, and spoke to him in the childlike way.\n\n\u201cHow did the sheik say I should call you? It was a Roman name, I\nthink.\u201d\n\n\u201cArrius, the son of Arrius.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet thou art not a Roman?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll my people were Jews.\u201d\n\n\u201cWere, saidst thou? Are they not living?\u201d\n\nThe question was subtle as well as simple; but Ilderim saved Ben-Hur\nfrom reply.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d he said to them, \u201cthe meal is ready.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur gave his arm to Balthasar, and conducted him to the table,\nwhere shortly they were all seated on their rugs Eastern fashion. The\nlavers were brought them, and they washed and dried their hands; then\nthe sheik made a sign, the servants stopped, and the voice of the\nEgyptian arose tremulous with holy feeling.\n\n\u201cFather of All\u2014God! What we have is of thee; take our thanks, and bless\nus, that we may continue to do thy will.\u201d\n\nIt was the grace the good man had said simultaneously with his brethren\nGaspar the Greek and Melchior the Hindoo, the utterance in diverse\ntongues out of which had come the miracle attesting the Divine Presence\nat the meal in the desert years before.\n\nThe table to which they immediately addressed themselves was, as may be\nthought, rich in the substantials and delicacies favorite in the\nEast\u2014in cakes hot from the oven, vegetables from the gardens, meats\nsingly, compounds of meats and vegetables, milk of kine, and honey and\nbutter\u2014all eaten or drunk, it should be remarked, without any of the\nmodern accessories\u2014knives, forks, spoons, cups, or plates; and in this\npart of the repast but little was said, for they were hungry. But when\nthe dessert was in course it was otherwise. They laved their hands\nagain, had the lap-cloths shaken out, and with a renewed table and the\nsharp edge of their appetites gone they were disposed to talk and\nlisten.\n\nWith such a company\u2014an Arab, a Jew, and an Egyptian, all believers\nalike in one God\u2014there could be at that age but one subject of\nconversation; and of the three, which should be speaker but he to whom\nthe Deity had been so nearly a personal appearance, who had seen him in\na star, had heard his voice in direction, had been led so far and so\nmiraculously by his Spirit? And of what should he talk but that of\nwhich he had been called to testify?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\n\nThe shadows cast over the Orchard of Palms by the mountains at set of\nsun left no sweet margin time of violet sky and drowsing earth between\nthe day and night. The latter came early and swift; and against its\nglooming in the tent this evening the servants brought four\ncandlesticks of brass, and set them by the corners of the table. To\neach candlestick there were four branches, and on each branch a lighted\nsilver lamp and a supply cup of olive-oil. In light ample, even\nbrilliant, the group at dessert continued their conversation, speaking\nin the Syriac dialect, familiar to all peoples in that part of the\nworld.\n\nThe Egyptian told his story of the meeting of the three in the desert,\nand agreed with the sheik that it was in December, twenty-seven years\nbefore, when he and his companions fleeing from Herod arrived at the\ntent praying shelter. The narrative was heard with intense interest;\neven the servants lingering when they could to catch its details.\nBen-Hur received it as became a man listening to a revelation of deep\nconcern to all humanity, and to none of more concern than the people of\nIsrael. In his mind, as we shall presently see, there was crystallizing\nan idea which was to change his course of life, if not absorb it\nabsolutely.\n\nAs the recital proceeded, the impression made by Balthasar upon the\nyoung Jew increased; at its conclusion, his feeling was too profound to\npermit a doubt of its truth; indeed, there was nothing left him\ndesirable in the connection but assurances, if such were to be had,\npertaining exclusively to the consequences of the amazing event.\n\nAnd now there is wanting an explanation which the very discerning may\nhave heretofore demanded; certainly it can be no longer delayed. Our\ntale begins, in point of date not less than fact, to trench close upon\nthe opening of the ministry of the Son of Mary, whom we have seen but\nonce since this same Balthasar left him worshipfully in his mother\u2019s\nlap in the cave by Bethlehem. Henceforth to the end the mysterious\nChild will be a subject of continual reference; and slowly though\nsurely the current of events with which we are dealing will bring us\nnearer and nearer to him, until finally we see him a man\u2014we would like,\nif armed contrariety of opinion would permit it, to add\u2014A MAN WHOM THE\nWORLD COULD NOT DO WITHOUT. Of this declaration, apparently so simple,\na shrewd mind inspired by faith will make much\u2014and in welcome. Before\nhis time, and since, there have been men indispensable to particular\npeople and periods; but his indispensability was to the whole race, and\nfor all time\u2014a respect in which it is unique, solitary, divine.\n\nTo Sheik Ilderim the story was not new. He had heard it from the three\nwise men together under circumstances which left no room for doubt; he\nhad acted upon it seriously, for the helping a fugitive escape from the\nanger of the first Herod was dangerous. Now one of the three sat at his\ntable again, a welcome guest and revered friend. Sheik Ilderim\ncertainly believed the story; yet, in the nature of things, its mighty\ncentral fact could not come home to him with the force and absorbing\neffect it came to Ben-Hur. He was an Arab, whose interest in the\nconsequences was but general; on the other hand, Ben-Hur was an\nIsraelite and a Jew, with more than a special interest in\u2014if the\nsolecism can be pardoned\u2014the truth of the fact. He laid hold of the\ncircumstance with a purely Jewish mind.\n\nFrom his cradle, let it be remembered, he had heard of the Messiah; at\nthe colleges he had been made familiar with all that was known of that\nBeing at once the hope, the fear, and the peculiar glory of the chosen\npeople; the prophets from the first to the last of the heroic line\nforetold him; and the coming had been, and yet was, the theme of\nendless exposition with the rabbis\u2014in the synagogues, in the schools,\nin the Temple, of fast-days and feast-days, in public and in private,\nthe national teachers expounded and kept expounding until all the\nchildren of Abraham, wherever their lots were cast, bore the Messiah in\nexpectation, and by it literally, and with iron severity, ruled and\nmoulded their lives.\n\nDoubtless, it will be understood from this that there was much argument\namong the Jews themselves about the Messiah, and so there was; but the\ndisputation was all limited to one point, and one only\u2014when would he\ncome?\n\nDisquisition is for the preacher; whereas the writer is but telling a\ntale, and that he may not lose his character, the explanation he is\nmaking requires notice merely of a point connected with the Messiah\nabout which the unanimity among the chosen people was matter of\nmarvellous astonishment: he was to be, when come, the KING OF THE\nJEWS\u2014their political King, their C\u00e6sar. By their instrumentality he\nwas to make armed conquest of the earth, and then, for their profit and\nin the name of God, hold it down forever. On this faith, dear reader,\nthe Pharisees or Separatists\u2014the latter being rather a political\nterm\u2014in the cloisters and around the altars of the Temple, built an\nedifice of hope far overtopping the dream of the Macedonian. His but\ncovered the earth; theirs covered the earth and filled the skies; that\nis to say, in their bold, boundless fantasy of blasphemous egotism, God\nthe Almighty was in effect to suffer them for their uses to nail him by\nthe ear to a door in sign of eternal servitude.\n\nReturning directly to Ben-Hur, it is to be observed now that there were\ntwo circumstances in his life the result of which had been to keep him\nin a state comparatively free from the influence and hard effects of\nthe audacious faith of his Separatist countrymen.\n\nIn the first place, his father followed the faith of the Sadducees, who\nmay, in a general way, be termed the Liberals of their time. They had\nsome loose opinions in denial of the soul. They were strict\nconstructionists and rigorous observers of the Law as found in the\nbooks of Moses; but they held the vast mass of Rabbinical addenda to\nthose books in derisive contempt. They were unquestionably a sect, yet\ntheir religion was more a philosophy than a creed; they did not deny\nthemselves the enjoyments of life, and saw many admirable methods and\nproductions among the Gentile divisions of the race. In politics they\nwere the active opposition of the Separatists. In the natural order of\nthings, these circumstances and conditions, opinions and peculiarities,\nwould have descended to the son as certainly and really as any portion\nof his father\u2019s estate; and, as we have seen, he was actually in course\nof acquiring them, when the second saving event overtook him.\n\nUpon a youth of Ben-Hur\u2019s mind and temperament the influence of five\nyears of affluent life in Rome can be appreciated best by recalling\nthat the great city was then, in fact, the meeting-place of the\nnations\u2014their meeting-place politically and commercially, as well as\nfor the indulgence of pleasure without restraint. Round and round the\ngolden mile-stone in front of the Forum\u2014now in gloom of eclipse, now in\nunapproachable splendor\u2014flowed all the active currents of humanity. If\nexcellences of manner, refinements of society, attainments of\nintellect, and glory of achievement made no impression upon him, how\ncould he, as the son of Arrius, pass day after day, through a period so\nlong, from the beautiful villa near Misenum into the receptions of\nC\u00e6sar, and be wholly uninfluenced by what he saw there of kings,\nprinces, ambassadors, hostages, and delegates, suitors all of them from\nevery known land, waiting humbly the yes or no which was to make or\nunmake them? As mere assemblages, to be sure, there was nothing to\ncompare with the gatherings at Jerusalem in celebration of the\nPassover; yet when he sat under the purple velaria of the Circus\nMaximus one of three hundred and fifty thousand spectators, he must\nhave been visited by the thought that possibly there might be some\nbranches of the family of man worthy divine consideration, if not\nmercy, though they were of the uncircumcised\u2014some, by their sorrows,\nand, yet worse, by their hopelessness in the midst of sorrows, fitted\nfor brotherhood in the promises to his countrymen.\n\nThat he should have had such a thought under such circumstances was but\nnatural; we think so much, at least, will be admitted: but when the\nreflection came to him, and he gave himself up to it, he could not have\nbeen blind to a certain distinction. The wretchedness of the masses,\nand their hopeless condition, had no relation whatever to religion;\ntheir murmurs and groans were not against their gods or for want of\ngods. In the oak-woods of Britain the Druids held their followers; Odin\nand Freya maintained their godships in Gaul and Germany and among the\nHyperboreans; Egypt was satisfied with her crocodiles and Anubis; the\nPersians were yet devoted to Ormuzd and Ahriman, holding them in equal\nhonor; in hope of the Nirvana, the Hindoos moved on patient as ever in\nthe rayless paths of Brahm; the beautiful Greek mind, in pauses of\nphilosophy, still sang the heroic gods of Homer; while in Rome nothing\nwas so common and cheap as gods. According to whim, the masters of the\nworld, because they were masters, carried their worship and offerings\nindifferently from altar to altar, delighted in the pandemonium they\nhad erected. Their discontent, if they were discontented, was with the\nnumber of gods; for, after borrowing all the divinities of the earth\nthey proceeded to deify their C\u00e6sars, and vote them altars and holy\nservice. No, the unhappy condition was not from religion, but\nmisgovernment and usurpations and countless tyrannies. The Avernus men\nhad been tumbled into, and were praying to be relieved from, was\nterribly but essentially political. The supplication\u2014everywhere alike,\nin Lodinum, Alexandria, Athens, Jerusalem\u2014was for a king to conquer\nwith, not a god to worship.\n\nStudying the situation after two thousand years, we can see and say\nthat religiously there was no relief from the universal confusion\nexcept some God could prove himself a true God, and a masterful one,\nand come to the rescue; but the people of the time, even the discerning\nand philosophical, discovered no hope except in crushing Rome; that\ndone, the relief would follow in restorations and reorganizations;\ntherefore they prayed, conspired, rebelled, fought, and died, drenching\nthe soil to-day with blood, to-morrow with tears\u2014and always with the\nsame result.\n\nIt remains to be said now that Ben-Hur was in agreement with the mass\nof men of his time not Romans. The five years\u2019 residence in the capital\nserved him with opportunity to see and study the miseries of the\nsubjugated world; and in full belief that the evils which afflicted it\nwere political, and to be cured only by the sword, he was going forth\nto fit himself for a part in the day of resort to the heroic remedy. By\npractice of arms he was a perfect soldier; but war has its higher\nfields, and he who would move successfully in them must know more than\nto defend with shield and thrust with spear. In those fields the\ngeneral finds his tasks, the greatest of which is the reduction of the\nmany into one, and that one himself; the consummate captain is a\nfighting-man armed with an army. This conception entered into the\nscheme of life to which he was further swayed by the reflection that\nthe vengeance he dreamed of, in connection with his individual wrongs,\nwould be more surely found in some of the ways of war than in any\npursuit of peace.\n\nThe feelings with which he listened to Balthasar can be now understood.\nThe story touched two of the most sensitive points of his being so they\nrang within him. His heart beat fast\u2014and faster still when, searching\nhimself, he found not a doubt either that the recital was true in every\nparticular, or that the Child so miraculously found was the Messiah.\nMarvelling much that Israel rested so dead to the revelation, and that\nhe had never heard of it before that day, two questions presented\nthemselves to him as centring all it was at that moment further\ndesirable to know:\n\nWhere was the Child then?\n\nAnd what was his mission?\n\nWith apologies for the interruptions, he proceeded to draw out the\nopinions of Balthasar, who was in nowise loath to speak.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\n\n\u201cIf I could answer you,\u201d Balthasar said, in his simple, earnest, devout\nway\u2014\u201coh, if I knew where he is, how quickly I would go to him! The seas\nshould not stay me, nor the mountains.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have tried to find him, then?\u201d asked Ben-Hur.\n\nA smile flitted across the face of the Egyptian.\n\n\u201cThe first task I charged myself with after leaving the shelter given\nme in the desert\u201d\u2014Balthasar cast a grateful look at Ilderim\u2014\u201cwas to\nlearn what became of the Child. But a year had passed, and I dared not\ngo up to Judea in person, for Herod still held the throne bloody-minded\nas ever. In Egypt, upon my return, there were a few friends to believe\nthe wonderful things I told them of what I had seen and heard\u2014a few who\nrejoiced with me that a Redeemer was born\u2014a few who never tired of the\nstory. Some of them came up for me looking after the Child. They went\nfirst to Bethlehem, and found there the khan and the cave; but the\nsteward\u2014he who sat at the gate the night of the birth, and the night we\ncame following the star\u2014was gone. The king had taken him away, and he\nwas no more seen.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut they found some proofs, surely,\u201d said Ben-Hur, eagerly.\n\n\u201cYes, proofs written in blood\u2014a village in mourning; mothers yet crying\nfor their little ones. You must know, when Herod heard of our flight,\nhe sent down and slew the youngest-born of the children of Bethlehem.\nNot one escaped. The faith of my messengers was confirmed; but they\ncame to me saying the Child was dead, slain with the other innocents.\u201d\n\n\u201cDead!\u201d exclaimed Ben-Hur, aghast. \u201cDead, sayest thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, my son, I did not say so. I said they, my messengers, told me the\nChild was dead. I did not believe the report then; I do not believe it\nnow.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see\u2014thou hast some special knowledge.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so, not so,\u201d said Balthasar, dropping his gaze. \u201cThe Spirit was to\ngo with us no farther than to the Child. When we came out of the cave,\nafter our presents were given and we had seen the babe, we looked first\nthing for the star; but it was gone, and we knew we were left to\nourselves. The last inspiration of the Holy One\u2014the last I can\nrecall\u2014was that which sent us to Ilderim for safety.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the sheik, fingering his beard nervously. \u201cYou told me you\nwere sent to me by a Spirit\u2014I remember it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no special knowledge,\u201d Balthasar continued, observing the\ndejection which had fallen upon Ben-Hur; \u201cbut, my son, I have given the\nmatter much thought\u2014thought continuing through years, inspired by\nfaith, which, I assure you, calling God for witness, is as strong in me\nnow as in the hour I heard the voice of the Spirit calling me by the\nshore of the lake. If you will listen, I will tell you why I believe\nthe Child is living.\u201d\n\nBoth Ilderim and Ben-Hur looked assent, and appeared to summon their\nfaculties that they might understand as well as hear. The interest\nreached the servants, who drew near to the divan, and stood listening.\nThroughout the tent there was the profoundest silence.\n\n\u201cWe three believe in God.\u201d\n\nBalthasar bowed his head as he spoke.\n\n\u201cAnd he is the Truth,\u201d he resumed. \u201cHis word is God. The hills may turn\nto dust, and the seas be drunk dry by south winds; but his word shall\nstand, because it is the Truth.\u201d\n\nThe utterance was in a manner inexpressibly solemn.\n\n\u201cThe voice, which was his, speaking to me by the lake, said, \u2018Blessed\nart thou, O son of Mizraim! The Redemption cometh. With two others from\nthe remotenesses of the earth, thou shalt see the Savior.\u2019 I have seen\nthe Savior\u2014blessed be his name!\u2014but the Redemption, which was the\nsecond part of the promise, is yet to come. Seest thou now? If the\nChild be dead, there is no agent to bring the Redemption about, and the\nword is naught, and God\u2014nay, I dare not say it!\u201d\n\nHe threw up both hands in horror.\n\n\u201cThe Redemption was the work for which the Child was born; and so long\nas the promise abides, not even death can separate him from his work\nuntil it is fulfilled, or at least in the way of fulfilment. Take you\nthat now as one reason for my belief; then give me further attention.\u201d\n\nThe good man paused.\n\n\u201cWilt thou not taste the wine? It is at thy hand\u2014see,\u201d said Ilderim,\nrespectfully.\n\nBalthasar drank, and, seeming refreshed, continued:\n\n\u201cThe Savior I saw was born of woman, in nature like us, and subject to\nall our ills\u2014even death. Let that stand as the first proposition.\nConsider next the work set apart to him. Was it not a performance for\nwhich only a man is fitted?\u2014a man wise, firm, discreet\u2014a man, not a\nchild? To become such he had to grow as we grow. Bethink you now of the\ndangers his life was subject to in the interval\u2014the long interval\nbetween childhood and maturity. The existing powers were his enemies;\nHerod was his enemy; and what would Rome have been? And as for\nIsrael\u2014that he should not be accepted by Israel was the motive for\ncutting him off. See you now. What better way was there to take care of\nhis life in the helpless growing time than by passing him into\nobscurity? Wherefore I say to myself, and to my listening faith, which\nis never moved except by yearning of love\u2014I say he is not dead, but\nlost; and, his work remaining undone, he will come again. There you\nhave the reasons for my belief. Are they not good?\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s small Arab eyes were bright with understanding, and Ben-Hur,\nlifted from his dejection, said heartily, \u201cI, at least, may not gainsay\nthem. What further, pray?\u201d\n\n\u201cHast thou not enough, my son? Well,\u201d he began, in calmer tone, \u201cseeing\nthat the reasons were good\u2014more plainly, seeing it was God\u2019s will that\nthe Child should not be found\u2014I settled my faith into the keeping of\npatience, and took to waiting.\u201d He raised his eyes, full of holy trust,\nand broke off abstractedly\u2014\u201cI am waiting now. He lives, keeping well\nhis mighty secret. What though I cannot go to him, or name the hill or\nthe vale of his abiding-place? He lives\u2014it may be as the fruit in\nblossom, it may be as the fruit just ripening; but by the certainty\nthere is in the promise and reason of God, I know he lives.\u201d\n\nA thrill of awe struck Ben-Hur\u2014a thrill which was but the dying of his\nhalf-formed doubt.\n\n\u201cWhere thinkest thou he is?\u201d he asked, in a low voice, and hesitating,\nlike one who feels upon his lips the pressure of a sacred silence.\n\nBalthasar looked at him kindly, and replied, his mind not entirely\nfreed from its abstraction,\n\n\u201cIn my house on the Nile, so close to the river that the passers-by in\nboats see it and its reflection in the water at the same time\u2014in my\nhouse, a few weeks ago, I sat thinking. A man thirty years old, I said\nto myself, should have his fields of life all ploughed, and his\nplanting well done; for after that it is summer-time, with space scarce\nenough to ripen his sowing. The Child, I said further, is now\ntwenty-seven\u2014his time to plant must be at hand. I asked myself, as you\nhere asked me, my son, and answered by coming hither, as to a good\nresting-place close by the land thy fathers had from God. Where else\nshould he appear, if not in Judea? In what city should he begin his\nwork, if not in Jerusalem? Who should be first to receive the blessings\nhe is to bring, if not the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; in\nlove, at least, the children of the Lord? If I were bidden go seek him,\nI would search well the hamlets and villages on the slopes of the\nmountains of Judea and Galilee falling eastwardly into the valley of\nthe Jordan. He is there now. Standing in a door or on a hill-top, only\nthis evening he saw the sun set one day nearer the time when he himself\nshall become the light of the world.\u201d\n\nBalthasar ceased, with his hand raised and finger pointing as if at\nJudea. All the listeners, even the dull servants outside the divan,\naffected by his fervor, were startled as if by a majestic presence\nsuddenly apparent within the tent. Nor did the sensation die away at\nonce: of those at the table, each sat awhile thinking. The spell was\nfinally broken by Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cI see, good Balthasar,\u201d he said, \u201cthat thou hast been much and\nstrangely favored. I see, also, that thou art a wise man indeed. It is\nnot in my power to tell how grateful I am for the things thou hast told\nme. I am warned of the coming of great events, and borrow somewhat from\nthy faith. Complete the obligation, I pray thee, by telling further of\nthe mission of him for whom thou art waiting, and for whom from this\nnight I too shall wait as becomes a believing son of Judah. He is to be\na Savior, thou saidst; is he not to be King of the Jews also?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy son,\u201d said Balthasar, in his benignant way, \u201cthe mission is yet a\npurpose in the bosom of God. All I think about it is wrung from the\nwords of the Voice in connection with the prayer to which they were in\nanswer. Shall we refer to them again?\u201d\n\n\u201cThou art the teacher.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe cause of my disquiet,\u201d Balthasar began, calmly\u2014\u201cthat which made me\na preacher in Alexandria and in the villages of the Nile; that which\ndrove me at last into the solitude where the Spirit found me\u2014was the\nfallen condition of men, occasioned, as I believed, by loss of the\nknowledge of God. I sorrowed for the sorrows of my kind\u2014not of one\nclass, but all of them. So utterly were they fallen it seemed to me\nthere could be no Redemption unless God himself would make it his work;\nand I prayed him to come, and that I might see him. \u2018Thy good works\nhave conquered. The Redemption cometh; thou shalt see the Savior\u2019\u2014thus\nthe Voice spake; and with the answer I went up to Jerusalem rejoicing.\nNow, to whom is the Redemption? To all the world. And how shall it be?\nStrengthen thy faith, my son! Men say, I know, that there will be no\nhappiness until Rome is razed from her hills. That is to say, the ills\nof the time are not, as I thought them, from ignorance of God, but from\nthe misgovernment of rulers. Do we need to be told that human\ngovernments are never for the sake of religion? How many kings have you\nheard of who were better than their subjects? Oh no, no! The Redemption\ncannot be for a political purpose\u2014to pull down rulers and powers, and\nvacate their places merely that others may take and enjoy them. If that\nwere all of it, the wisdom of God would cease to be surpassing. I tell\nyou, though it be but the saying of blind to blind, he that comes is to\nbe a Savior of souls; and the Redemption means God once more on earth,\nand righteousness, that his stay here may be tolerable to himself.\u201d\n\nDisappointment showed plainly on Ben-Hur\u2019s face\u2014his head drooped; and\nif he was not convinced, he yet felt himself incapable that moment of\ndisputing the opinion of the Egyptian. Not so Ilderim.\n\n\u201cBy the splendor of God!\u201d he cried, impulsively, \u201cthe judgment does\naway with all custom. The ways of the world are fixed, and cannot be\nchanged. There must be a leader in every community clothed with power,\nelse there is no reform.\u201d\n\nBalthasar received the burst gravely.\n\n\u201cThy wisdom, good sheik, is of the world; and thou dost forget that it\nis from the ways of the world we are to be redeemed. Man as a subject\nis the ambition of a king; the soul of a man for its salvation is the\ndesire of a God.\u201d\n\nIlderim, though silenced, shook his head, unwilling to believe. Ben-Hur\ntook up the argument for him.\n\n\u201cFather\u2014I call thee such by permission,\u201d he said\u2014\u201cfor whom wert thou\nrequired to ask at the gates of Jerusalem?\u201d\n\nThe sheik threw him a grateful look.\n\n\u201cI was to ask of the people,\u201d said Balthasar, quietly, \u201c\u2018Where is he\nthat is born King of the Jews?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you saw him in the cave by Bethlehem?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe saw and worshipped him, and gave him presents\u2014Melchior, gold;\nGaspar, frankincense; and I, myrrh.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen thou dost speak of fact, O father, to hear thee is to believe,\u201d\nsaid Ben-Hur; \u201cbut in the matter of opinion, I cannot understand the\nkind of king thou wouldst make of the Child\u2014I cannot separate the ruler\nfrom his powers and duties.\u201d\n\n\u201cSon,\u201d said Balthasar, \u201cwe have the habit of studying closely the\nthings which chance to lie at our feet, giving but a look at the\ngreater objects in the distance. Thou seest now but the title\u2014KING OF\nTHE JEWS; wilt thou lift thine eyes to the mystery beyond it, the\nstumbling-block will disappear. Of the title, a word. Thy Israel hath\nseen better days\u2014days in which God called thy people endearingly his\npeople, and dealt with them through prophets. Now, if in those days he\npromised them the Savior I saw\u2014promised him as KING OF THE JEWS\u2014the\nappearance must be according to the promise, if only for the word\u2019s\nsake. Ah, thou seest the reason of my question at the gate!\u2014thou seest,\nand I will no more of it, but pass on. It may be, next, thou art\nregarding the dignity of the Child; if so, bethink thee\u2014what is it to\nbe a successor of Herod?\u2014by the world\u2019s standard of honor, what? Could\nnot God better by his beloved? If thou canst think of the Almighty\nFather in want of a title, and stooping to borrow the inventions of\nmen, why was I not bidden ask for a C\u00e6sar at once? Oh, for the\nsubstance of that whereof we speak, look higher, I pray thee! Ask\nrather of what he whom we await shall be king; for I do tell, my son,\nthat is the key to the mystery, which no man shall understand without\nthe key.\u201d\n\nBalthasar raised his eyes devoutly.\n\n\u201cThere is a kingdom on the earth, though it is not of it\u2014a kingdom of\nwider bounds than the earth\u2014wider than the sea and the earth, though\nthey were rolled together as finest gold and spread by the beating of\nhammers. Its existence is a fact as our hearts are facts, and we\njourney through it from birth to death without seeing it; nor shall any\nman see it until he hath first known his own soul; for the kingdom is\nnot for him, but for his soul. And in its dominion there is glory such\nas hath not entered imagination\u2014original, incomparable, impossible of\nincrease.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat thou sayest, father, is a riddle to me,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cI never\nheard of such a kingdom.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor did I,\u201d said Ilderim.\n\n\u201cAnd I may not tell more of it,\u201d Balthasar added, humbly dropping his\neyes. \u201cWhat it is, what it is for, how it may be reached, none can know\nuntil the Child comes to take possession of it as his own. He brings\nthe key of the viewless gate, which he will open for his beloved, among\nwhom will be all who love him, for of such only the redeemed will be.\u201d\n\nAfter that there was a long silence, which Balthasar accepted as the\nend of the conversation.\n\n\u201cGood sheik,\u201d he said, in his placid way, \u201cto-morrow or the next day I\nwill go up to the city for a time. My daughter wishes to see the\npreparations for the games. I will speak further about the time of our\ngoing. And, my son, I will see you again. To you both, peace and\ngood-night.\u201d\n\nThey all arose from the table. The sheik and Ben-Hur remained looking\nafter the Egyptian until he was conducted out of the tent.\n\n\u201cSheik Ilderim,\u201d said Ben-Hur then, \u201cI have heard strange things\ntonight. Give me leave, I pray, to walk by the lake that I may think of\nthem.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo; and I will come after you.\u201d\n\nThey washed their hands again; after which, at a sign from the master,\na servant brought Ben-Hur his shoes, and directly he went out.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\n\nUp a little way from the dower there was a cluster of palms, which\nthrew its shade half in the water, half on the land. A bulbul sang from\nthe branches a song of invitation. Ben-Hur stopped beneath to listen.\nAt any other time the notes of the bird would have driven thought away;\nbut the story of the Egyptian was a burden of wonder, and he was a\nlaborer carrying it, and, like other laborers, there was to him no\nmusic in the sweetest music until mind and body were happily attuned by\nrest.\n\nThe night was quiet. Not a ripple broke upon the shore. The old stars\nof the old East were all out, each in its accustomed place; and there\nwas summer everywhere\u2014on land, on lake, in the sky.\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s imagination was heated, his feelings aroused, his will all\nunsettled.\n\nSo the palms, the sky, the air, seemed to him of the far south zone\ninto which Balthasar had been driven by despair for men; the lake, with\nits motionless surface, was a suggestion of the Nilotic mother by which\nthe good man stood praying when the Spirit made its radiant appearance.\nHad all these accessories of the miracle come to Ben-Hur? or had he\nbeen transferred to them? And what if the miracle should be\nrepeated\u2014and to him? He feared, yet wished, and even waited for the\nvision. When at last his feverish mood was cooled, permitting him to\nbecome himself, he was able to think.\n\nHis scheme of life has been explained. In all reflection about it\nheretofore there had been one hiatus which he had not been able to\nbridge or fill up\u2014one so broad he could see but vaguely to the other\nside of it. When, finally, he was graduated a captain as well as a\nsoldier, to what object should he address his efforts? Revolution he\ncontemplated, of course; but the processes of revolution have always\nbeen the same, and to lead men into them there have always been\nrequired, first, a cause or presence to enlist adherents; second, an\nend, or something as a practical achievement. As a rule he fights well\nwho has wrongs to redress; but vastly better fights he who, with wrongs\nas a spur, has also steadily before him a glorious result in prospect\u2014a\nresult in which he can discern balm for wounds, compensation for valor,\nremembrance and gratitude in the event of death.\n\nTo determine the sufficiency of either the cause or the end, it was\nneedful that Ben-Hur should study the adherents to whom he looked when\nall was ready for action. Very naturally, they were his countrymen. The\nwrongs of Israel were to every son of Abraham, and each one was a cause\nvastly holy, vastly inspiring.\n\nAy, the cause was there; but the end\u2014what should it be?\n\nThe hours and days he had given this branch of his scheme were past\ncalculation\u2014all with the same conclusion\u2014a dim, uncertain, general idea\nof national liberty. Was it sufficient? He could not say no, for that\nwould have been the death of his hope; he shrank from saying yes,\nbecause his judgment taught him better. He could not assure himself\neven that Israel was able single-handed to successfully combat Rome. He\nknew the resources of that great enemy; he knew her art was superior to\nher resources. A universal alliance might suffice, but, alas! that was\nimpossible, except\u2014and upon the exception how long and earnestly he had\ndwelt!\u2014except a hero would come from one of the suffering nations, and\nby martial successes accomplish a renown to fill the whole earth. What\nglory to Judea could she prove the Macedonia of the new Alexander!\nAlas, again! Under the rabbis valor was possible, but not discipline.\nAnd then the taunt of Messala in the garden of Herod\u2014\u201cAll you conquer\nin the six days, you lose on the seventh.\u201d\n\nSo it happened he never approached the chasm thinking to surmount it,\nbut he was beaten back; and so incessantly had he failed in the object\nthat he had about given it over, except as a thing of chance. The hero\nmight be discovered in his day, or he might not. God only knew. Such\nhis state of mind, there need be no lingering upon the effect of\nMalluch\u2019s skeleton recital of the story of Balthasar. He heard it with\na bewildering satisfaction\u2014a feeling that here was the solution of the\ntrouble\u2014here was the requisite hero found at last; and he a son of the\nLion tribe, and King of the Jews! Behind the hero, lo! the world in\narms.\n\nThe king implied a kingdom; he was to be a warrior glorious as David, a\nruler wise and magnificent as Solomon; the kingdom was to be a power\nagainst which Rome was to dash itself to pieces. There would be\ncolossal war, and the agonies of death and birth\u2014then peace, meaning,\nof course, Judean dominion forever.\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s heart beat hard as for an instant he had a vision of\nJerusalem the capital of the world, and Zion, the site of the throne of\nthe Universal Master.\n\nIt seemed to the enthusiast rare fortune that the man who had seen the\nking was at the tent to which he was going. He could see him there, and\nhear him, and learn of him what all he knew of the coming change,\nespecially all he knew of the time of its happening. If it were at\nhand, the campaign with Maxentius should be abandoned; and he would go\nand set about organizing and arming the tribes, that Israel might be\nready when the great day of the restoration began to break.\n\nNow, as we have seen, from Balthasar himself Ben-Hur had the marvelous\nstory. Was he satisfied?\n\nThere was a shadow upon him deeper than that of the cluster of\npalms\u2014the shadow of a great uncertainty, which\u2014take note, O reader!\nwhich pertained more to the kingdom than the king.\n\n\u201cWhat of this kingdom? And what is it to be?\u201d Ben-Hur asked himself in\nthought.\n\nThus early arose the questions which were to follow the Child to his\nend, and survive him on earth\u2014incomprehensible in his day, a dispute in\nthis\u2014an enigma to all who do not or cannot understand that every man is\ntwo in one\u2014a deathless Soul and a mortal Body.\n\n\u201cWhat is it to be?\u201d he asked.\n\nFor us, O reader, the Child himself has answered; but for Ben-Hur there\nwere only the words of Balthasar, \u201cOn the earth, yet not of it\u2014not for\nmen, but for their souls\u2014a dominion, nevertheless, of unimaginable\nglory.\u201d\n\nWhat wonder the hapless youth found the phrases but the darkening of a\nriddle?\n\n\u201cThe hand of man is not in it,\u201d he said, despairingly. \u201cNor has the\nking of such a kingdom use for men; neither toilers, nor councillors,\nnor soldiers. The earth must die or be made anew, and for government\nnew principles must be discovered\u2014something besides armed\nhands\u2014something in place of Force. But what?\u201d\n\nAgain, O reader!\n\nThat which we will not see, he could not. The power there is in Love\nhad not yet occurred to any man; much less had one come saying directly\nthat for government and its objects\u2014peace and order\u2014Love is better and\nmightier than Force.\n\nIn the midst of his reverie a hand was laid upon his shoulder.\n\n\u201cI have a word to say, O son of Arrius,\u201d said Ilderim, stopping by his\nside\u2014\u201ca word, and then I must return, for the night is going.\u201d\n\n\u201cI give you welcome, sheik.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs to the things you have heard but now,\u201d said Ilderim, almost without\npause, \u201ctake in belief all save that relating to the kind of kingdom\nthe Child will set up when he comes; as to so much keep virgin mind\nuntil you hear Simonides the merchant\u2014a good man here in Antioch, to\nwhom I will make you known. The Egyptian gives you coinage of his\ndreams which are too good for the earth; Simonides is wiser; he will\nring you the sayings of your prophets, giving book and page, so you\ncannot deny that the Child will be King of the Jews in fact\u2014ay, by the\nsplendor of God! a king as Herod was, only better and far more\nmagnificent. And then, see you, we will taste the sweetness of\nvengeance. I have said. Peace to you!\u201d\n\n\u201cStay\u2014sheik!\u201d\n\nIf Ilderim heard his call, he did not stay.\n\n\u201cSimonides again!\u201d said Ben-Hur, bitterly. \u201cSimonides here, Simonides\nthere; from this one now, then from that! I am like to be well ridden\nby my father\u2019s servant, who knows at least to hold fast that which is\nmine; wherefore he is richer, if indeed he be not wiser, than the\nEgyptian. By the covenant! it is not to the faithless a man should go\nto find a faith to keep\u2014and I will not. But, hark! singing\u2014and the\nvoice a woman\u2019s\u2014or an angel\u2019s! It comes this way.\u201d\n\nDown the lake towards the dower came a woman singing. Her voice floated\nalong the hushed water melodious as a flute, and louder growing each\ninstant. Directly the dipping of oars was heard in slow measure; a\nlittle later the words were distinguishable\u2014words in purest Greek, best\nfitted of all the tongues of the day for the expression of passionate\ngrief.\n\nTHE LAMENT.\n(Egyptian.)\n\n\nI sigh as I sing for the story land\n     Across the Syrian sea.\nThe odorous winds from the musky sand\n     Were breaths of life to me.\nThey play with the plumes of the whispering palm\n     For me, alas! no more;\nNor more does the Nile in the moonlit calm\n     Moan past the Memphian shore.\n\nO Nilus! thou god of my fainting soul!\n     In dreams thou comest to me;\nAnd, dreaming, I play with the lotus bowl,\n     And sing old songs to thee;\nAnd hear from afar the Memnonian strain,\n     And calls from dear Simbel;\nAnd wake to a passion of grief and pain\n     That e\u2019er I said\u2014Farewell!\n\n\nAt the conclusion of the song the singer was past the cluster of palms.\nThe last word\u2014farewell\u2014floated past Ben-Hur weighted with all the sweet\nsorrow of parting. The passing of the boat was as the passing of a\ndeeper shadow into the deeper night.\n\nBen-Hur drew a long breath hardly distinguishable from a sigh.\n\n\u201cI know her by the song\u2014the daughter of Balthasar. How beautiful it\nwas! And how beautiful is she!\u201d\n\nHe recalled her large eyes curtained slightly by the drooping lids, the\ncheeks oval and rosy rich, the lips full and deep with dimpling in the\ncorners, and all the grace of the tall lithe figure.\n\n\u201cHow beautiful she is!\u201d he repeated.\n\nAnd his heart made answer by a quickening of its movement.\n\nThen, almost the same instant, another face, younger and quite as\nbeautiful\u2014more childlike and tender, if not so passionate\u2014appeared as\nif held up to him out of the lake.\n\n\u201cEsther!\u201d he said, smiling. \u201cAs I wished, a star has been sent to me.\u201d\n\nHe turned, and passed slowly back to the tent.\n\nHis life had been crowded with griefs and with vengeful\npreparations\u2014too much crowded for love. Was this the beginning of a\nhappy change?\n\nAnd if the influence went with him into the tent, whose was it? Esther\nhad given him a cup. So had the Egyptian. And both had come to him at\nthe same time under the palms.\n\nWhich?\n\n\n\n\nBOOK FIFTH\n\n\n\u201cOnly the actions of the just\nSmell sweet and blossom in the dust.\u201d\n                    SHIRLEY.\n\n\u201cAnd, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law,\nIn calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.\u201d\n                    WORDSWORTH.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe morning after the bacchanalia in the saloon of the palace, the\ndivan was covered with young patricians. Maxentius might come, and the\ncity throng to receive him; the legion might descend from Mount Sulpius\nin glory of arms and armor; from Nymphaeum to Omphalus there might be\nceremonial splendors to shame the most notable ever before seen or\nheard of in the gorgeous East; yet would the many continue to sleep\nignominiously on the divan where they had fallen or been carelessly\ntumbled by the indifferent slaves; that they would be able to take part\nin the reception that day was about as possible as for the lay-figures\nin the studio of a modern artist to rise and go bonneted and plumed\nthrough the one, two, three of a waltz.\n\nNot all, however, who participated in the orgy were in the shameful\ncondition. When dawn began to peer through the skylights of the saloon,\nMessala arose, and took the chaplet from his head, in sign that the\nrevel was at end; then he gathered his robe about him, gave a last look\nat the scene, and, without a word, departed for his quarters. Cicero\ncould not have retired with more gravity from a night-long senatorial\ndebate.\n\nThree hours afterwards two couriers entered his room, and from his own\nhand received each a despatch, sealed and in duplicate, and consisting\nchiefly of a letter to Valerius Gratus, the procurator, still resident\nin C\u00e6sarea. The importance attached to the speedy and certain delivery\nof the paper may be inferred. One courier was to proceed overland, the\nother by sea; both were to make the utmost haste.\n\nIt is of great concern now that the reader should be fully informed of\nthe contents of the letter thus forwarded, and it is accordingly given:\n\n\u201cANTIOCH, XII. Kal. Jul.\n\n\u201cMessala to Gratus.\n\n\u201cO my Midas!\n\n\u201cI pray thou take no offense at the address, seeing it is one of love\nand gratitude, and an admission that thou art most fortunate among men;\nseeing, also, that thy ears are as they were derived from thy mother,\nonly proportionate to thy matured condition.\n\n\u201cO my Midas!\n\n\u201cI have to relate to thee an astonishing event, which, though as yet\nsomewhat in the field of conjecture, will, I doubt not, justify thy\ninstant consideration.\n\n\u201cAllow me first to revive thy recollection. Remember, a good many years\nago, a family of a prince of Jerusalem, incredibly ancient and vastly\nrich\u2014by name Ben-Hur. If thy memory have a limp or ailment of any kind,\nthere is, if I mistake not, a wound on thy head which may help thee to\na revival of the circumstance.\n\n\u201cNext, to arouse thy interest. In punishment of the attempt upon thy\nlife\u2014for dear repose of conscience, may all the gods forbid it should\never prove to have been an accident!\u2014the family were seized and\nsummarily disposed of, and their property confiscated. And inasmuch, O\nmy Midas! as the action had the approval of our C\u00e6sar, who was as just\nas he was wise\u2014be there flowers upon his altars forever!\u2014there should\nbe no shame in referring to the sums which were realized to us\nrespectively from that source, for which it is not possible I can ever\ncease to be grateful to thee, certainly not while I continue, as at\npresent, in the uninterrupted enjoyment of the part which fell to me.\n\n\u201cIn vindication of thy wisdom\u2014a quality for which, as I am now advised,\nthe son of Gordius, to whom I have boldly likened thee, was never\ndistinguished among men or gods\u2014I recall further that thou didst make\ndisposition of the family of Hur, both of us at the time supposing the\nplan hit upon to be the most effective possible for the purposes in\nview, which were silence and delivery over to inevitable but natural\ndeath. Thou wilt remember what thou didst with the mother and sister of\nthe malefactor; yet, if now I yield to a desire to learn whether they\nbe living or dead, I know, from knowing the amiability of thy nature, O\nmy Gratus, that thou wilt pardon me as one scarcely less amiable than\nthyself.\n\n\u201cAs more immediately essential to the present business, however, I take\nthe liberty of inviting to thy remembrance that the actual criminal was\nsent to the galleys a slave for life\u2014so the precept ran; and it may\nserve to make the event which I am about to relate the more astonishing\nby saying here that I saw and read the receipt for his body delivered\nin course to the tribune commanding a galley.\n\n\u201cThou mayst begin now to give me more especial heed, O my most\nexcellent Phrygian!\n\n\u201cReferring to the limit of life at the oar, the outlaw thus justly\ndisposed of should be dead, or, better speaking, some one of the three\nthousand Oceanides should have taken him to husband at least five years\nago. And if thou wilt excuse a momentary weakness, O most virtuous and\ntender of men! inasmuch as I loved him in childhood, and also because\nhe was very handsome\u2014I used in much admiration to call him my\nGanymede\u2014he ought in right to have fallen into the arms of the most\nbeautiful daughter of the family. Of opinion, however, that he was\ncertainly dead, I have lived quite five years in calm and innocent\nenjoyment of the fortune for which I am in a degree indebted to him. I\nmake the admission of indebtedness without intending it to diminish my\nobligation to thee.\n\n\u201cNow I am at the very point of interest.\n\n\u201cLast night, while acting as master of the feast for a party just from\nRome\u2014their extreme youth and inexperience appealed to my compassion\u2014I\nheard a singular story. Maxentius, the consul, as you know, comes\nto-day to conduct a campaign against the Parthians. Of the ambitious\nwho are to accompany him there is one, a son of the late duumvir\nQuintus Arrius. I had occasion to inquire about him particularly. When\nArrius set out in pursuit of the pirates, whose defeat gained him his\nfinal honors, he had no family; when he returned from the expedition,\nhe brought back with him an heir. Now be thou composed as becomes the\nowner of so many talents in ready sestertii! The son and heir of whom I\nspeak is he whom thou didst send to the galleys\u2014the very Ben-Hur who\nshould have died at his oar five years ago\u2014returned now with fortune\nand rank, and possibly as a Roman citizen, to\u2014 Well, thou art too\nfirmly seated to be alarmed, but I, O my Midas! I am in danger\u2014no need\nto tell thee of what. Who should know, if thou dost not?\n\n\u201cSayst thou to all this, tut-tut?\n\n\u201cWhen Arrius, the father, by adoption, of this apparition from the arms\nof the most beautiful of the Oceanides (see above my opinion of what\nshe should be), joined battle with the pirates, his vessel was sunk,\nand but two of all her crew escaped drowning\u2014Arrius himself and this\none, his heir.\n\n\u201cThe officers who took them from the plank on which they were floating\nsay the associate of the fortunate tribune was a young man who, when\nlifted to the deck, was in the dress of a galley slave.\n\n\u201cThis should be convincing, to say least; but lest thou say tut-tut\nagain, I tell thee, O my Midas! that yesterday, by good chance\u2014I have a\nvow to Fortune in consequence\u2014I met the mysterious son of Arrius face\nto face; and I declare now that, though I did not then recognize him,\nhe is the very Ben-Hur who was for years my playmate; the very Ben-Hur\nwho, if he be a man, though of the commonest grade, must this very\nmoment of my writing be thinking of vengeance\u2014for so would I were I\nhe\u2014vengeance not to be satisfied short of life; vengeance for country,\nmother, sister, self, and\u2014I say it last, though thou mayst think it\nwould be first\u2014for fortune lost.\n\n\u201cBy this time, O good my benefactor and friend! my Gratus! in\nconsideration of thy sestertii in peril, their loss being the worst\nwhich could befall one of thy high estate\u2014I quit calling thee after the\nfoolish old King of Phrygia\u2014by this time, I say (meaning after having\nread me so far), I have faith to believe thou hast ceased saying\ntut-tut, and art ready to think what ought to be done in such\nemergency.\n\n\u201cIt were vulgar to ask thee now what shall be done. Rather let me say I\nam thy client; or, better yet, thou art my Ulysses whose part it is to\ngive me sound direction.\n\n\u201cAnd I please myself thinking I see thee when this letter is put into\nthy hand. I see thee read it once; thy countenance all gravity, and\nthen again with a smile; then, hesitation ended, and thy judgment\nformed, it is this, or it is that; wisdom like Mercury\u2019s, promptitude\nlike C\u00e6sar\u2019s.\n\n\u201cThe sun is now fairly risen. An hour hence two messengers will depart\nfrom my door, each with a sealed copy hereof; one of them will go by\nland, the other by sea, so important do I regard it that thou shouldst\nbe early and particularly informed of the appearance of our enemy in\nthis part of our Roman world.\n\n\u201cI will await thy answer here.\n\n\u201cBen-Hur\u2019s going and coming will of course be regulated by his master,\nthe consul, who, though he exert himself without rest day and night,\ncannot get away under a month. Thou knowest what work it is to assemble\nand provide for an army destined to operate in a desolate, townless\ncountry.\n\n\u201cI saw the Jew yesterday in the Grove of Daphne; and if he be not there\nnow, he is certainly in the neighborhood, making it easy for me to keep\nhim in eye. Indeed, wert thou to ask me where he is now, I should say,\nwith the most positive assurance, he is to be found at the old Orchard\nof Palms, under the tent of the traitor Sheik Ilderim, who cannot long\nescape our strong hand. Be not surprised if Maxentius, as his first\nmeasure, places the Arab on ship for forwarding to Rome.\n\n\u201cI am so particular about the whereabouts of the Jew because it will be\nimportant to thee, O illustrious! when thou comest to consider what is\nto be done; for already I know, and by the knowledge I flatter myself I\nam growing in wisdom, that in every scheme involving human action there\nare three elements always to be taken into account\u2014time, place, and\nagency.\n\n\u201cIf thou sayest this is the place, have thou then no hesitancy in\ntrusting the business to thy most loving friend, who would be thy\naptest scholar as well.\n\nMESSALA.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAbout the time the couriers departed from Messala\u2019s door with the\ndespatches (it being yet the early morning hour), Ben-Hur entered\nIlderim\u2019s tent. He had taken a plunge into the lake, and breakfasted,\nand appeared now in an under-tunic, sleeveless, and with skirt scarcely\nreaching to the knee.\n\nThe sheik saluted him from the divan.\n\n\u201cI give thee peace, son of Arrius,\u201d he said, with admiration, for, in\ntruth, he had never seen a more perfect illustration of glowing,\npowerful, confident manhood. \u201cI give thee peace and good-will. The\nhorses are ready, I am ready. And thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe peace thou givest me, good sheik, I give thee in return. I thank\nthee for so much good-will. I am ready.\u201d\n\nIlderim clapped his hands.\n\n\u201cI will have the horses brought. Be seated.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they yoked?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen suffer me to serve myself,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cIt is needful that I\nmake the acquaintance of thy Arabs. I must know them by name, O sheik,\nthat I may speak to them singly; nor less must I know their temper, for\nthey are like men: if bold, the better of scolding; if timid, the\nbetter of praise and flattery. Let the servants bring me the harness.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the chariot?\u201d asked the sheik.\n\n\u201cI will let the chariot alone to-day. In its place, let them bring me a\nfifth horse, if thou hast it; he should be barebacked, and fleet as the\nothers.\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s wonder was aroused, and he summoned a servant immediately.\n\n\u201cBid them bring the harness for the four,\u201d he said\u2014\u201cthe harness for the\nfour, and the bridle for Sirius.\u201d\n\nIlderim then arose.\n\n\u201cSirius is my love, and I am his, O son of Arrius. We have been\ncomrades for twenty years\u2014in tent, in battle, in all stages of the\ndesert we have been comrades. I will show him to you.\u201d\n\nGoing to the division curtain, he held it, while Ben-Hur passed under.\nThe horses came to him in a body. One with a small head, luminous eyes,\nneck like the segment of a bended bow, and mighty chest, curtained\nthickly by a profusion of mane soft and wavy as a damsel\u2019s locks,\nnickered low and gladly at sight of him.\n\n\u201cGood horse,\u201d said the sheik, patting the dark-brown cheek. \u201cGood\nhorse, good-morning.\u201d Turning then to Ben-Hur, he added, \u201cThis is\nSirius, father of the four here. Mira, the mother, awaits our return,\nbeing too precious to be hazarded in a region where there is a stronger\nhand than mine. And much I doubt,\u201d he laughed as he spoke\u2014\u201cmuch I\ndoubt, O son of Arrius, if the tribe could endure her absence. She is\ntheir glory; they worship her; did she gallop over them, they would\nlaugh. Ten thousand horsemen, sons of the desert, will ask to-day,\n\u2018Have you heard of Mira?\u2019 And to the answer, \u2018She is well,\u2019 they will\nsay, \u2018God is good! blessed be God!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMira\u2014Sirius\u2014names of stars, are they not, O sheik?\u201d asked Ben-Hur,\ngoing to each of the four, and to the sire, offering his hand.\n\n\u201cAnd why not?\u201d replied Ilderim. \u201cWert thou ever abroad on the desert at\nnight?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen thou canst not know how much we Arabs depend upon the stars. We\nborrow their names in gratitude, and give them in love. My fathers all\nhad their Miras, as I have mine; and these children are stars no less.\nThere, see thou, is Rigel, and there Antares; that one is Atair, and he\nwhom thou goest to now is Aldebaran, the youngest of the brood, but\nnone the worse of that\u2014no, not he! Against the wind he will carry thee\ntill it roar in thy ears like Akaba; and he will go where thou sayest,\nson of Arrius\u2014ay, by the glory of Solomon! he will take thee to the\nlion\u2019s jaws, if thou darest so much.\u201d\n\nThe harness was brought. With his own hands Ben-Hur equipped the\nhorses; with his own hands he led them out of the tent, and there\nattached the reins.\n\n\u201cBring me Sirius,\u201d he said.\n\nAn Arab could not have better sprung to seat on the courser\u2019s back.\n\n\u201cAnd now the reins.\u201d\n\nThey were given him, and carefully separated.\n\n\u201cGood sheik,\u201d he said, \u201cI am ready. Let a guide go before me to the\nfield, and send some of thy men with water.\u201d\n\nThere was no trouble at starting. The horses were not afraid. Already\nthere seemed a tacit understanding between them and the new driver, who\nhad performed his part calmly, and with the confidence which always\nbegets confidence. The order of going was precisely that of driving,\nexcept that Ben-Hur sat upon Sirius instead of standing in the chariot.\nIlderim\u2019s spirit arose. He combed his beard, and smiled with\nsatisfaction as he muttered, \u201cHe is not a Roman, no, by the splendor of\nGod!\u201d He followed on foot, the entire tenantry of the dowar\u2014men, women,\nand children\u2014pouring after him, participants all in his solicitude, if\nnot in his confidence.\n\nThe field, when reached, proved ample and well fitted for the training,\nwhich Ben-Hur began immediately by driving the four at first slowly,\nand in perpendicular lines, and then in wide circles. Advancing a step\nin the course, he put them next into a trot; again progressing, he\npushed into a gallop; at length he contracted the circles, and yet\nlater drove eccentrically here and there, right, left, forward, and\nwithout a break. An hour was thus occupied. Slowing the gait to a walk,\nhe drove up to Ilderim.\n\n\u201cThe work is done, nothing now but practice,\u201d he said. \u201cI give you joy,\nSheik Ilderim, that you have such servants as these. See,\u201d he\ncontinued, dismounting and going to the horses, \u201csee, the gloss of\ntheir red coats is without spot; they breathe lightly as when I began.\nI give thee great joy, and it will go hard if\u201d\u2014he turned his flashing\neyes upon the old man\u2019s face\u2014\u201cif we have not the victory and our\u2014\u201d\n\nHe stopped, colored, bowed. At the sheik\u2019s side he observed, for the\nfirst time, Balthasar, leaning upon his staff, and two women closely\nveiled. At one of the latter he looked a second time, saying to\nhimself, with a flutter about his heart, \u201c\u2019Tis she\u2014\u2019tis the Egyptian!\u201d\nIlderim picked up his broken sentence\u2014\n\n\u201cThe victory, and our revenge!\u201d Then he said aloud, \u201cI am not afraid; I\nam glad. Son of Arrius, thou art the man. Be the end like the\nbeginning, and thou shalt see of what stuff is the lining of the hand\nof an Arab who is able to give.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank thee, good sheik,\u201d Ben-Hur returned, modestly. \u201cLet the\nservants bring drink for the horses.\u201d\n\nWith his own hands he gave the water.\n\nRemounting Sirius, he renewed the training, going as before from walk\nto trot, from trot to gallop; finally, he pushed the steady racers into\nthe run, gradually quickening it to full speed. The performance then\nbecame exciting; and there were applause for the dainty handling of the\nreins, and admiration for the four, which were the same, whether they\nflew forward or wheeled in varying curvature. In their action there\nwere unity, power, grace, pleasure, all without effort or sign of\nlabor. The admiration was unmixed with pity or reproach, which would\nhave been as well bestowed upon swallows in their evening flight.\n\nIn the midst of the exercises, and the attention they received from all\nthe bystanders, Malluch came upon the ground, seeking the sheik.\n\n\u201cI have a message for you, O sheik,\u201d he said, availing himself of a\nmoment he supposed favorable for the speech\u2014\u201ca message from Simonides,\nthe merchant.\u201d\n\n\u201cSimonides!\u201d ejaculated the Arab. \u201cAh! \u2019tis well. May Abaddon take all\nhis enemies!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe bade me give thee first the holy peace of God,\u201d Malluch continued;\n\u201cand then this despatch, with prayer that thou read it the instant of\nreceipt.\u201d\n\nIlderim, standing in his place, broke the sealing of the package\ndelivered to him, and from a wrapping of fine linen took two letters,\nwhich he proceeded to read.\n\n[No. 1.]\n\n\u201cSimonides to Sheik Ilderim.\n\n\u201cO friend!\n\n\u201cAssure thyself first of a place in my inner heart.\n\n\u201cThen\u2014\n\n\u201cThere is in thy dowar a youth of fair presence, calling himself the\nson of Arrius; and such he is by adoption.\n\n\u201cHe is very dear to me.\n\n\u201cHe hath a wonderful history, which I will tell thee; come thou to-day\nor to-morrow, that I may tell thee the history, and have thy counsel.\n\n\u201cMeantime, favor all his requests, so they be not against honor. Should\nthere be need of reparation, I am bound to thee for it.\n\n\u201cThat I have interest in this youth, keep thou private.\n\n\u201cRemember me to thy other guest. He, his daughter, thyself, and all\nwhom thou mayst choose to be of thy company, must depend upon me at the\nCircus the day of the games. I have seats already engaged.\n\n\u201cTo thee and all thine, peace.\n\n\u201cWhat should I be, O my friend, but thy friend?\n\n\u201cSIMONIDES.\u201d\n\n[No. 2.]\n\n\u201cSimonides to Sheik Ilderim.\n\n\u201cO friend!\n\n\u201cOut of the abundance of my experience, I send you a word.\n\n\u201cThere is a sign which all persons not Romans, and who have moneys or\ngoods subject to despoilment, accept as warning\u2014that is, the arrival at\na seat of power of some high Roman official charged with authority.\n\n\u201cTo-day comes the Consul Maxentius.\n\n\u201cBe thou warned!\n\n\u201cAnother word of advice.\n\n\u201cA conspiracy, to be of effect against thee, O friend, must include the\nHerods as parties; thou hast great properties in their dominions.\n\n\u201cWherefore keep thou watch.\n\n\u201cSend this morning to thy trusty keepers of the roads leading south\nfrom Antioch, and bid them search every courier going and coming; if\nthey find private despatches relating to thee or thine affairs, THOU\nSHOULDST SEE THEM.\n\n\u201cYou should have received this yesterday, though it is not too late, if\nyou act promptly.\n\n\u201cIf couriers left Antioch this morning, your messengers know the\nbyways, and can get before them with your orders.\n\n\u201cDo not hesitate.\n\n\u201cBurn this after reading.\n\n\u201cO my friend! thy friend,\n\n\u201cSIMONIDES.\u201d\n\nIlderim read the letters a second time, and refolded them in the linen\nwrap, and put the package under his girdle.\n\nThe exercises in the field continued but a little longer\u2014in all about\ntwo hours. At their conclusion, Ben-Hur brought the four to a walk, and\ndrove to Ilderim.\n\n\u201cWith leave, O sheik,\u201d he said, \u201cI will return thy Arabs to the tent,\nand bring them out again this afternoon.\u201d\n\nIlderim walked to him as he sat on Sirius, and said, \u201cI give them to\nyou, son of Arrius, to do with as you will until after the games. You\nhave done with them in two hours what the Roman\u2014may jackals gnaw his\nbones fleshless!\u2014could not in as many weeks. We will win\u2014by the\nsplendor of God, we will win!\u201d\n\nAt the tent Ben-Hur remained with the horses while they were being\ncared for; then, after a plunge in the lake and a cup of arrack with\nthe sheik, whose flow of spirits was royally exuberant, he dressed\nhimself in his Jewish garb again, and walked with Malluch on into the\nOrchard.\n\nThere was much conversation between the two, not all of it important.\nOne part, however, must not be overlooked. Ben-Hur was speaking.\n\n\u201cI will give you,\u201d he said, \u201can order for my property stored in the\nkhan this side the river by the Seleucian Bridge. Bring it to me\nto-day, if you can. And, good Malluch\u2014if I do not overtask you\u2014\u201d\n\nMalluch protested heartily his willingness to be of service.\n\n\u201cThank you, Malluch, thank you,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cI will take you at your\nword, remembering that we are brethren of the old tribe, and that the\nenemy is a Roman. First, then\u2014as you are a man of business, which I\nmuch fear Sheik Ilderim is not\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cArabs seldom are,\u201d said Malluch, gravely.\n\n\u201cNay, I do not impeach their shrewdness, Malluch. It is well, however,\nto look after them. To save all forfeit or hindrance in connection with\nthe race, you would put me perfectly at rest by going to the office of\nthe Circus, and seeing that he has complied with every preliminary\nrule; and if you can get a copy of the rules, the service may be of\ngreat avail to me. I would like to know the colors I am to wear, and\nparticularly the number of the crypt I am to occupy at the starting; if\nit be next Messala\u2019s on the right or left, it is well; if not, and you\ncan have it changed so as to bring me next the Roman, do so. Have you\ngood memory, Malluch?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has failed me, but never, son of Arrius, where the heart helped it\nas now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will venture, then, to charge you with one further service. I saw\nyesterday that Messala was proud of his chariot, as he might be, for\nthe best of C\u00e6sar\u2019s scarcely surpass it. Can you not make its display\nan excuse which will enable you to find if it be light or heavy? I\nwould like to have its exact weight and measurements\u2014and, Malluch,\nthough you fail in all else, bring me exactly the height his axle\nstands above the ground. You understand, Malluch? I do not wish him to\nhave any actual advantage of me. I do not care for his splendor; if I\nbeat him, it will make his fall the harder, and my triumph the more\ncomplete. If there are advantages really important, I want them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see, I see!\u201d said Malluch. \u201cA line dropped from the centre of the\naxle is what you want.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou hast it; and be glad, Malluch\u2014it is the last of my commissions.\nLet us return to the dowar.\u201d\n\nAt the door of the tent they found a servant replenishing the\nsmoke-stained bottles of leben freshly made, and stopped to refresh\nthemselves. Shortly afterwards Malluch returned to the city.\n\nDuring their absence, a messenger well mounted had been despatched with\norders as suggested by Simonides. He was an Arab, and carried nothing\nwritten.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\n\u201cIras, the daughter of Balthasar, sends me with salutation and a\nmessage,\u201d said a servant to Ben-Hur, who was taking his ease in the\ntent.\n\n\u201cGive me the message.\u201d\n\n\u201cWould it please you to accompany her upon the lake?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will carry the answer myself. Tell her so.\u201d\n\nHis shoes were brought him, and in a few minutes Ben-Hur sallied out to\nfind the fair Egyptian. The shadow of the mountains was creeping over\nthe Orchard of Palms in advance of night. Afar through the trees came\nthe tinkling of sheep bells, the lowing of cattle, and the voices of\nthe herdsmen bringing their charges home. Life at the Orchard, it\nshould be remembered, was in all respects as pastoral as life on the\nscantier meadows of the desert.\n\nSheik Ilderim had witnessed the exercises of the afternoon, being a\nrepetition of those of the morning; after which he had gone to the city\nin answer to the invitation of Simonides; he might return in the night;\nbut, considering the immensity of the field to be talked over with his\nfriend, it was hardly possible. Ben-Hur, thus left alone, had seen his\nhorses cared for; cooled and purified himself in the lake; exchanged\nthe field garb for his customary vestments, all white, as became a\nSadducean of the pure blood; supped early; and, thanks to the strength\nof youth, was well recovered from the violent exertion he had\nundergone.\n\nIt is neither wise nor honest to detract from beauty as a quality.\nThere cannot be a refined soul insensible to its influence. The story\nof Pygmalion and his statue is as natural as it is poetical. Beauty is\nof itself a power; and it was now drawing Ben-Hur.\n\nThe Egyptian was to him a wonderfully beautiful woman\u2014beautiful of\nface, beautiful of form. In his thought she always appeared to him as\nhe saw her at the fountain; and he felt the influence of her voice,\nsweeter because in tearful expression of gratitude to him, and of her\neyes\u2014the large, soft, black, almond-shaped eyes declarative of her\nrace\u2014eyes which looked more than lies in the supremest wealth of words\nto utter; and recurrences of the thought of her were returns just so\nfrequent of a figure tall, slender, graceful, refined, wrapped in rich\nand floating drapery, wanting nothing but a fitting mind to make her,\nlike the Shulamite, and in the same sense, terrible as an army with\nbanners. In other words, as she returned to his fancy, the whole\npassionate Song of Solomon came with her, inspired by her presence.\nWith this sentiment and that feeling, he was going to see if she\nactually justified them. It was not love that was taking him, but\nadmiration and curiosity, which might be the heralds of love.\n\nThe landing was a simple affair, consisting of a short stairway, and a\nplatform garnished by some lamp-posts; yet at the top of the steps he\npaused, arrested by what he beheld.\n\nThere was a shallop resting upon the clear water lightly as an\negg-shell. An Ethiop\u2014the camel-driver at the Castalian fount\u2014occupied\nthe rower\u2019s place, his blackness intensified by a livery of shining\nwhite. All the boat aft was cushioned and carpeted with stuffs\nbrilliant with Tyrian red. On the rudder seat sat the Egyptian herself,\nsunk in Indian shawls and a very vapor of most delicate veils and\nscarfs. Her arms were bare to the shoulders; and, not merely faultless\nin shape, they had the effect of compelling attention to them\u2014their\npose, their action, their expression; the hands, the fingers even,\nseemed endowed with graces and meaning; each was an object of beauty.\nThe shoulders and neck were protected from the evening air by an ample\nscarf, which yet did not hide them.\n\nIn the glance he gave her, Ben-Hur paid no attention to these details.\nThere was simply an impression made upon him; and, like strong light,\nit was a sensation, not a thing of sight or enumeration. Thy lips are\nlike a thread of scarlet; thy temples are like a piece of pomegranate\nwithin thy locks. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; for,\nlo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear\non the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice\nof the turtle is heard in the land\u2014such was the impression she made\nupon him translated into words.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d she said, observing him stop, \u201ccome, or I shall think you a\npoor sailor.\u201d\n\nThe red of his cheek deepened. Did she know anything of his life upon\nthe sea? He descended to the platform at once.\n\n\u201cI was afraid,\u201d he said, as he took the vacant seat before her.\n\n\u201cOf what?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf sinking the boat,\u201d he replied, smiling.\n\n\u201cWait until we are in deeper water,\u201d she said, giving a signal to the\nblack, who dipped the oars, and they were off.\n\nIf love and Ben-Hur were enemies, the latter was never more at mercy.\nThe Egyptian sat where he could not but see her; she, whom he had\nalready engrossed in memory as his ideal of the Shulamite. With her\neyes giving light to his, the stars might come out, and he not see\nthem; and so they did. The night might fall with unrelieved darkness\neverywhere else; her look would make illumination for him. And then, as\neverybody knows, given youth and such companionship, there is no\nsituation in which the fancy takes such complete control as upon\ntranquil waters under a calm night sky, warm with summer. It is so easy\nat such time to glide imperceptibly out of the commonplace into the\nideal.\n\n\u201cGive me the rudder,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d she replied, \u201cthat were to reverse the relation. Did I not ask\nyou to ride with me? I am indebted to you, and would begin payment. You\nmay talk and I will listen, or I will talk and you will listen: that\nchoice is yours; but it shall be mine to choose where we go, and the\nway thither.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where may that be?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are alarmed again.\u201d\n\n\u201cO fair Egyptian, I but asked you the first question of every captive.\u201d\n\n\u201cCall me Egypt.\u201d\n\n\u201cI would rather call you Iras.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may think of me by that name, but call me Egypt.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgypt is a country, and means many people.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes! And such a country!\u201d\n\n\u201cI see; it is to Egypt we are going.\u201d\n\n\u201cWould we were! I would be so glad.\u201d\n\nShe sighed as she spoke.\n\n\u201cYou have no care for me, then,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cAh, by that I know you were never there.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never was.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it is the land where there are no unhappy people, the desired of\nall the rest of the earth, the mother of all the gods, and therefore\nsupremely blest. There, O son of Arrius, there the happy find increase\nof happiness, and the wretched, going, drink once of the sweet water of\nthe sacred river, and laugh and sing, rejoicing like children.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre not the very poor with you there as elsewhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very poor in Egypt are the very simple in wants and ways,\u201d she\nreplied. \u201cThey have no wish beyond enough, and how little that is, a\nGreek or a Roman cannot know.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am neither Greek nor Roman.\u201d\n\nShe laughed.\n\n\u201cI have a garden of roses, and in the midst of it is a tree, and its\nbloom is the richest of all. Whence came it, think you?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom Persia, the home of the rose.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom India, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! one of the isles of Greece.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you,\u201d she said: \u201ca traveller found it perishing by the\nroadside on the plain of Rephaim.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, in Judea!\u201d\n\n\u201cI put it in the earth left bare by the receding Nile, and the soft\nsouth wind blew over the desert and nursed it, and the sun kissed it in\npity; after which it could not else than grow and flourish. I stand in\nits shade now, and it thanks me with much perfume. As with the roses,\nso with the men of Israel. Where shall they reach perfection but in\nEgypt?\u201d\n\n\u201cMoses was but one of millions.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, there was a reader of dreams. Will you forget him?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe friendly Pharaohs are dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes! The river by which they dwelt sings to them in their tombs;\nyet the same sun tempers the same air to the same people.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlexandria is but a Roman town.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has but exchanged sceptres. C\u00e6sar took from her that of the\nsword, and in its place left that of learning. Go with me to the\nBrucheium, and I will show you the college of nations; to the\nSerapeion, and see the perfection of architecture; to the Library, and\nread the immortals; to the theatre, and hear the heroics of the Greeks\nand Hindoos; to the quay, and count the triumphs of commerce; descend\nwith me into the streets, O son of Arrius, and, when the philosophers\nhave dispersed, and taken with them the masters of all the arts, and\nall the gods have home their votaries, and nothing remains of the day\nbut its pleasures, you shall hear the stories that have amused men from\nthe beginning, and the songs which will never, never die.\u201d\n\nAs he listened, Ben-Hur was carried back to the night when, in the\nsummer-house in Jerusalem, his mother, in much the same poetry of\npatriotism, declaimed the departed glories of Israel.\n\n\u201cI see now why you wish to be called Egypt. Will you sing me a song if\nI call you by that name? I heard you last night.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was a hymn of the Nile,\u201d she answered, \u201ca lament which I sing\nwhen I would fancy I smell the breath of the desert, and hear the surge\nof the dear old river; let me rather give you a piece of the Indian\nmind. When we get to Alexandria, I will take you to the corner of the\nstreet where you can hear it from the daughter of the Ganga, who taught\nit to me. Kapila, you should know, was one of the most revered of the\nHindoo sages.\u201d\n\nThen, as if it were a natural mode of expression, she began the song.\n\nKAPILA.\n\n\nI.\n\n\n\u201cKapila, Kapila, so young and true,\n    I yearn for a glory like thine,\nAnd hail thee from battle to ask anew,\n    Can ever thy Valor be mine?\n\n\n\u201cKapila sat on his charger dun,\n    A hero never so grave:\n\u2018Who loveth all things hath fear of none,\n    \u2019Tis love that maketh me brave.\nA woman gave me her soul one day,\nThe soul of my soul to be alway;\n    Thence came my Valor to me,\n    Go try it\u2014try it\u2014and see.\u2019\n\n\nII.\n\n\n\u201cKapila, Kapila, so old and gray,\n    The queen is calling for me;\nBut ere I go hence, I wish thou wouldst say,\n    How Wisdom first came to thee.\n\n\n\u201cKapila stood in his temple door,\n    A priest in eremite guise:\n\u2018It did not come as men get their lore,\n    \u2019Tis faith that maketh me wise.\nA woman gave me her heart one day,\nThe heart of my heart to be alway;\n    Thence came my Wisdom to me,\n    Go try it\u2014try it\u2014and see.\u2019\u201d\n\n\nBen-Hur had not time to express his thanks for the song before the keel\nof the boat grated upon the underlying sand, and, next moment, the bow\nran upon the shore.\n\n\u201cA quick voyage, O Egypt!\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cAnd a briefer stay!\u201d she replied, as, with a strong push, the black\nsent them shooting into the open water again.\n\n\u201cYou will give me the rudder now.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no,\u201d said she, laughing. \u201cTo you, the chariot; to me, the boat. We\nare merely at the lake\u2019s end, and the lesson is that I must not sing\nany more. Having been to Egypt, let us now to the Grove of Daphne.\u201d\n\n\u201cWithout a song on the way?\u201d he said, in deprecation.\n\n\u201cTell me something of the Roman from whom you saved us to-day,\u201d she\nasked.\n\nThe request struck Ben-Hur unpleasantly.\n\n\u201cI wish this were the Nile,\u201d he said, evasively. \u201cThe kings and queens,\nhaving slept so long, might come down from their tombs, and ride with\nus.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey were of the colossi, and would sink our boat. The pygmies would\nbe preferable. But tell me of the Roman. He is very wicked, is he not?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot say.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he of noble family, and rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot speak of his riches.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow beautiful his horses were! and the bed of his chariot was gold,\nand the wheels ivory. And his audacity! The bystanders laughed as he\nrode away; they, who were so nearly under his wheels!\u201d\n\nShe laughed at the recollection.\n\n\u201cThey were rabble,\u201d said Ben-Hur, bitterly.\n\n\u201cHe must be one of the monsters who are said to be growing up in\nRome\u2014Apollos ravenous as Cerberus. Does he reside in Antioch?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is of the East somewhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgypt would suit him better than Syria.\u201d\n\n\u201cHardly,\u201d Ben-Hur replied. \u201cCleopatra is dead.\u201d\n\nThat instant the lamps burning before the door of the tent came into\nview.\n\n\u201cThe dowar!\u201d she cried.\n\n\u201cAh, then, we have not been to Egypt. I have not seen Karnak or Philae\nor Abydos. This is not the Nile. I have but heard a song of India, and\nbeen boating in a dream.\u201d\n\n\u201cPhilae\u2014Karnak. Mourn rather that you have not seen the Rameses at Aboo\nSimbel, looking at which makes it so easy to think of God, the maker of\nthe heavens and earth. Or why should you mourn at all? Let us go on to\nthe river; and if I cannot sing\u201d\u2014she laughed\u2014\u201cbecause I have said I\nwould not, yet I can tell you stories of Egypt.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on! Ay, till morning comes, and the evening, and the next morning!\u201d\nhe said, vehemently.\n\n\u201cOf what shall my stories be? Of the mathematicians?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf the philosophers?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf the magicians and genii?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you will.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf war?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf love?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you a cure for love. It is the story of a queen. Listen\nreverently. The papyrus from which it was taken by the priests of\nPhilae was wrested from the hand of the heroine herself. It is correct\nin form, and must be true:\n\nNE-NE-HOFRA.\n\n\nI.\n\n\n\u201cThere is no parallelism in human lives.\n\n\u201cNo life runs a straight line.\n\n\u201cThe most perfect life develops as a circle, and terminates in its\nbeginning, making it impossible to say, This is the commencement, that\nthe end.\n\n\u201cPerfect lives are the treasures of God; of great days he wears them on\nthe ring-finger of his heart hand.\u201d\n\nII.\n\n\n\u201cNe-ne-hofra dwelt in a house close by Essouan, yet closer to the first\ncataract\u2014so close, indeed, that the sound of the eternal battle waged\nthere between river and rocks was of the place a part.\n\n\u201cShe grew in beauty day by day, so that it was said of her, as of the\npoppies in her father\u2019s garden, What will she not be in the time of\nblooming?\n\n\u201cEach year of her life was the beginning of a new song more delightful\nthan any of those which went before.\n\n\u201cChild was she of a marriage between the North, bounded by the sea, and\nthe South, bounded by the desert beyond the Luna mountains; and one\ngave her its passion, the other its genius; so when they beheld her,\nboth laughed, saying, not meanly, \u2018She is mine,\u2019 but generously, \u2018Ha,\nha! she is ours.\u2019\n\n\u201cAll excellences in nature contributed to her perfection and rejoiced\nin her presence. Did she come or go, the birds ruffled their wings in\ngreeting; the unruly winds sank to cooling zephyrs; the white lotus\nrose from the water\u2019s depth to look at her; the solemn river loitered\non its way; the palm-trees, nodding, shook all their plumes; and they\nseemed to say, this one, I gave her of my grace; that, I gave her of my\nbrightness; the other, I gave her of my purity: and so each as it had a\nvirtue to give.\n\n\u201cAt twelve, Ne-ne-hofra was the delight of Essouan; at sixteen, the\nfame of her beauty was universal; at twenty, there was never a day\nwhich did not bring to her door princes of the desert on swift camels,\nand lords of Egypt in gilded barges; and, going away disconsolate, they\nreported everywhere, \u2018I have seen her, and she is not a woman, but\nAthor herself.\u2019\u201d\n\nIII.\n\n\n\u201cNow of the three hundred and thirty successors of good King Menes,\neighteen were Ethiopians, of whom Oraetes was one hundred and ten years\nold. He had reigned seventy-six years. Under him the people thrived,\nand the land groaned with fatness of plenty. He practised wisdom\nbecause, having seen so much, he knew what it was. He dwelt in Memphis,\nhaving there his principal palace, his arsenals, and his\ntreasure-house. Frequently he went down to Butos to talk with Latona.\n\n\u201cThe wife of the good king died. Too old was she for perfect\nembalmment; yet he loved her, and mourned as the inconsolable; seeing\nwhich, a colchyte presumed one day to speak to him.\n\n\u201c\u2018O Oraetes, I am astonished that one so wise and great should not know\nhow to cure a sorrow like this.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Tell me a cure,\u2019 said the king.\n\n\u201cThree times the colchyte kissed the floor, and then he replied,\nknowing the dead could not hear him, \u2018At Essouan lives Ne-ne-hofra,\nbeautiful as Athor the beautiful. Send for her. She has refused all the\nlords and princes, and I know not how many kings; but who can say no to\nOraetes?\u2019\u201d\n\nIV.\n\n\n\u201cNe-ne-hofra descended the Nile in a barge richer than any ever before\nseen, attended by an army in barges each but a little less fine. All\nNubia and Egypt, and a myriad from Libya, and a host of Troglodytes,\nand not a few Macrobii from beyond the Mountains of the Moon, lined the\ntented shores to see the cortege pass, wafted by perfumed winds and\ngolden oars.\n\n\u201cThrough a dromos of sphinxes and couchant double-winged lions she was\nborne, and set down before Oraetes sitting on a throne specially\nerected at the sculptured pylon of the palace. He raised her up, gave\nher place by his side, clasped the uraeus upon her arm, kissed her, and\nNe-ne-hofra was queen of all queens.\n\n\u201cThat was not enough for the wise Oraetes; he wanted love, and a queen\nhappy in his love. So he dealt with her tenderly, showing her his\npossessions, cities, palaces, people; his armies, his ships: and with\nhis own hand he led her through his treasure-house, saying, \u2018O.\nNe-ne-hofra! but kiss me in love, and they are all thine.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd, thinking she could be happy, if she was not then, she kissed him\nonce, twice, thrice\u2014kissed him thrice, his hundred and ten years\nnotwithstanding.\n\n\u201cThe first year she was happy, and it was very short; the third year\nshe was wretched, and it was very long; then she was enlightened: that\nwhich she thought love of Oraetes was only daze of his power. Well for\nher had the daze endured! Her spirits deserted her; she had long spells\nof tears, and her women could not remember when they heard her laugh;\nof the roses on her cheeks only ashes remained; she languished and\nfaded gradually, but certainly. Some said she was haunted by the\nErinnyes for cruelty to a lover; others, that she was stricken by some\ngod envious of Oraetes. Whatever the cause of her decline, the charms\nof the magicians availed not to restore her, and the prescript of the\ndoctor was equally without virtue. Ne-ne-hofra was given over to die.\n\n\u201cOraetes chose a crypt for her up in the tombs of the queens; and,\ncalling the master sculptors and painters to Memphis, he set them to\nwork upon designs more elaborate than any even in the great galleries\nof the dead kings.\n\n\u201c\u2018O thou beautiful as Athor herself, my queen!\u2019 said the king, whose\nhundred and thirteen years did not lessen his ardor as a lover, \u2018Tell\nme, I pray, the ailment of which, alas! thou art so certainly perishing\nbefore my eyes.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You will not love me any more if I tell you,\u2019 she said, in doubt and\nfear.\n\n\u201c\u2018Not love you! I will love you the more. I swear it, by the genii of\nAmente! by the eye of Osiris, I swear it! Speak!\u2019 he cried, passionate\nas a lover, authoritative as a king.\n\n\u201c\u2018Hear, then,\u2019 she said. \u2018There is an anchorite, the oldest and holiest\nof his class, in a cave near Essouan. His name is Menopha. He was my\nteacher and guardian. Send for him, O Oraetes, and he will tell you\nthat you seek to know; he will also help you find the cure for my\naffliction.\u2019\n\n\u201cOraetes arose rejoicing. He went away in spirit a hundred years\nyounger than when he came.\u201d\n\nV.\n\n\n\u201c\u2018Speak!\u2019 said Oraetes to Menopha, in the palace at Memphis.\n\n\u201cAnd Menopha replied, \u2018Most mighty king, if you were young, I should\nnot answer, because I am yet pleased with life; as it is, I will say\nthe queen, like any other mortal, is paying the penalty of a crime.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018A crime!\u2019 exclaimed Oraetes, angrily.\n\n\u201cMenopha bowed very low.\n\n\u201c\u2018Yes; to herself.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I am not in mood for riddles,\u2019 said the king.\n\n\u201c\u2018What I say is not a riddle, as you shall hear. Ne-ne-hofra grew up\nunder my eyes, and confided every incident of her life to me; among\nothers, that she loved the son of her father\u2019s gardener, Barbec by\nname.\u2019\n\n\u201cOraetes\u2019s frown, strangely enough, began to dissipate.\n\n\u201c\u2018With that love in her heart, O king, she came to you; of that love\nshe is dying.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Where is the gardener\u2019s son now?\u2019 asked Oraetes.\n\n\u201c\u2018In Essouan.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe king went out and gave two orders. To one oeris he said, \u2018Go to\nEssouan and bring hither a youth named Barbec. You will find him in the\ngarden of the queen\u2019s father;\u2019 to another, \u2018Assemble workmen and cattle\nand tools, and construct for me in Lake Chemmis an island, which,\nthough laden with a temple, a palace, and a garden, and all manner of\ntrees bearing fruit, and all manner of vines, shall nevertheless float\nabout as the winds may blow it. Make the island, and let it be fully\nfurnished by the time the moon begins to wane.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen to the queen he said,\n\n\u201c\u2018Be of cheer. I know all, and have sent for Barbec.\u2019\n\n\u201cNe-ne-hofra kissed his hands.\n\n\u201c\u2018You shall have him to yourself, and he you to himself; nor shall any\ndisturb your loves for a year.\u2019\n\n\u201cShe kissed his feet; he raised her, and kissed her in return; and the\nrose came back to her cheek, the scarlet to her lips, and the laughter\nto her heart.\u201d\n\nVI.\n\n\n\u201cFor one year Ne-ne-hofra and Barbec the gardener floated as the winds\nblew on the island of Chemmis, which became one of the wonders of the\nworld; never a home of love more beautiful; one year, seeing no one and\nexisting for no one but themselves. Then she returned in state to the\npalace in Memphis.\n\n\u201c\u2018Now whom lovest thou best?\u2019 asked the king.\n\n\u201cShe kissed his cheek and said, \u2018Take me back, O good king, for I am\ncured.\u2019\n\n\u201cOraetes laughed, none the worse, that moment, of his hundred and\nfourteen years.\n\n\u201c\u2018Then it is true, as Menopha said: ha, ha, ha! it is true, the cure of\nlove is love.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Even so,\u2019 she replied.\n\n\u201cSuddenly his manner changed, and his look became terrible.\n\n\u201c\u2018I did not find it so,\u2019 he said.\n\n\u201cShe shrank affrighted.\n\n\u201c\u2018Thou guilty!\u2019 he continued. \u2018Thy offense to Oraetes the man he\nforgives; but thy offence to Oraetes the king remains to be punished.\u2019\n\n\u201cShe cast herself at his feet.\n\n\u201c\u2018Hush!\u2019 he cried. \u2018Thou art dead!\u2019\n\n\u201cHe clapped his hands, and a terrible procession came in\u2014a procession\nof parachistes, or embalmers, each with some implement or material of\nhis loathsome art.\n\n\u201cThe King pointed to Ne-ne-hofra.\n\n\u201c\u2018She is dead. Do thy work well.\u2019\u201d\n\nVII.\n\n\n\u201cNe-ne-hofra the beautiful, after seventy-two days, was carried to the\ncrypt chosen for her the year before, and laid with her queenly\npredecessors; yet there was no funeral procession in her honor across\nthe sacred lake.\u201d\n\nAt the conclusion of the story, Ben-Hur was sitting at the Egyptian\u2019s\nfeet, and her hand upon the tiller was covered by his hand.\n\n\u201cMenopha was wrong,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cLove lives by loving.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen there is no cure for it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Oraetes found the cure.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was it?\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a good listener, O son of Arrius.\u201d\n\nAnd so with conversation and stories, they whiled the hours away. As\nthey stepped ashore, she said,\n\n\u201cTo-morrow we go to the city.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you will be at the games?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cOh yes.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will send you my colors.\u201d\n\nWith that they separated.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nIlderim returned to the dowar next day about the third hour. As he\ndismounted, a man whom he recognized as of his own tribe came to him\nand said, \u201cO sheik, I was bidden give thee this package, with request\nthat thou read it at once. If there be answer, I was to wait thy\npleasure.\u201d\n\nIlderim gave the package immediate attention. The seal was already\nbroken. The address ran, _To Valerius Gratus at C\u00e6sarea_.\n\n\u201cAbaddon take him!\u201d growled the sheik, at discovering a letter in\nLatin.\n\nHad the missive been in Greek or Arabic, he could have read it; as it\nwas, the utmost he could make out was the signature in bold Roman\nletters\u2014MESSALA\u2014whereat his eyes twinkled.\n\n\u201cWhere is the young Jew?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cIn the field with the horses,\u201d a servant replied.\n\nThe sheik replaced the papyrus in its envelopes, and, tucking the\npackage under his girdle, remounted the horse. That moment a stranger\nmade his appearance, coming, apparently, from the city.\n\n\u201cI am looking for Sheik Ilderim, surnamed the Generous,\u201d the stranger\nsaid.\n\nHis language and attire bespoke him a Roman.\n\nWhat he could not read, he yet could speak; so the old Arab answered,\nwith dignity, \u201cI am Sheik Ilderim.\u201d\n\nThe man\u2019s eyes fell; he raised them again, and said, with forced\ncomposure, \u201cI heard you had need of a driver for the games.\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s lip under the white mustache curled contemptuously.\n\n\u201cGo thy way,\u201d he said. \u201cI have a driver.\u201d\n\nHe turned to ride away, but the man, lingering, spoke again.\n\n\u201cSheik, I am a lover of horses, and they say you have the most\nbeautiful in the world.\u201d\n\nThe old man was touched; he drew rein, as if on the point of yielding\nto the flattery, but finally replied, \u201cNot to-day, not to-day; some\nother time I will show them to you. I am too busy just now.\u201d\n\nHe rode to the field, while the stranger betook himself to town again\nwith a smiling countenance. He had accomplished his mission.\n\nAnd every day thereafter, down to the great day of the games, a\nman\u2014sometimes two or three men\u2014came to the sheik at the Orchard,\npretending to seek an engagement as driver.\n\nIn such manner Messala kept watch over Ben-Hur.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nThe sheik waited, well satisfied, until Ben-Hur drew his horses off the\nfield for the forenoon\u2014well satisfied, for he had seen them, after\nbeing put through all the other paces, run full speed in such manner\nthat it did not seem there were one the slowest and another the\nfastest\u2014run in other words, as if the four were one.\n\n\u201cThis afternoon, O sheik, I will give Sirius back to you.\u201d Ben-Hur\npatted the neck of the old horse as he spoke. \u201cI will give him back,\nand take to the chariot.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo soon?\u201d Ilderim asked.\n\n\u201cWith such as these, good sheik, one day suffices. They are not afraid;\nthey have a man\u2019s intelligence, and they love the exercise. This one,\u201d\nhe shook a rein over the back of the youngest of the four\u2014\u201cyou called\nhim Aldebaran, I believe\u2014is the swiftest; in once round a stadium he\nwould lead the others thrice his length.\u201d\n\nIlderim pulled his beard, and said, with twinkling eyes, \u201cAldebaran is\nthe swiftest; but what of the slowest?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is he.\u201d Ben-Hur shook the rein over Antares. \u201cThis is he: but he\nwill win, for, look you, sheik, he will run his utmost all day\u2014all day;\nand, as the sun goes down, he will reach his swiftest.\u201d\n\n\u201cRight again,\u201d said Ilderim.\n\n\u201cI have but one fear, O sheik.\u201d\n\nThe sheik became doubly serious.\n\n\u201cIn his greed of triumph, a Roman cannot keep honor pure. In the\ngames\u2014all of them, mark you\u2014their tricks are infinite; in chariot\nracing their knavery extends to everything\u2014from horse to driver, from\ndriver to master. Wherefore, good sheik, look well to all thou hast;\nfrom this till the trial is over, let no stranger so much as see the\nhorses. Would you be perfectly safe, do more\u2014keep watch over them with\narmed hand as well as sleepless eye; then I will have no fear of the\nend.\u201d\n\nAt the door of the tent they dismounted.\n\n\u201cWhat you say shall be attended to. By the splendor of God, no hand\nshall come near them except it belong to one of the faithful. To-night\nI will set watches. But, son of Arrius\u201d\u2014Ilderim drew forth the package,\nand opened it slowly, while they walked to the divan and seated\nthemselves\u2014\u201cson of Arrius, see thou here, and help me with thy Latin.\u201d\n\nHe passed the despatch to Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cThere; read\u2014and read aloud, rendering what thou findest into the\ntongue of thy fathers. Latin is an abomination.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur was in good spirits, and began the reading carelessly.\n\u201c\u2018MESSALA TO GRATUS!\u2019\u201d He paused. A premonition drove the blood to his\nheart. Ilderim observed his agitation.\n\n\u201cWell; I am waiting.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur prayed pardon, and recommenced the paper, which, it is\nsufficient to say, was one of the duplicates of the letter despatched\nso carefully to Gratus by Messala the morning after the revel in the\npalace.\n\nThe paragraphs in the beginning were remarkable only as proof that the\nwriter had not outgrown his habit of mockery; when they were passed,\nand the reader came to the parts intended to refresh the memory of\nGratus, his voice trembled, and twice he stopped to regain his\nself-control. By a strong effort he continued. \u201c\u2018I recall further,\u2019\u201d he\nread, \u201c\u2018that thou didst make disposition of the family of Hur\u2019\u201d\u2014there\nthe reader again paused and drew a long breath\u2014\u201c\u2018both of us at the time\nsupposing the plan hit upon to be the most effective possible for the\npurposes in view, which were silence and delivery over to inevitable\nbut natural death.\u2019\u201d\n\nHere Ben-Hur broke down utterly. The paper fell from his hands, and he\ncovered his face.\n\n\u201cThey are dead\u2014dead. I alone am left.\u201d\n\nThe sheik had been a silent, but not unsympathetic, witness of the\nyoung man\u2019s suffering; now he arose and said, \u201cSon of Arrius, it is for\nme to beg thy pardon. Read the paper by thyself. When thou art strong\nenough to give the rest of it to me, send word, and I will return.\u201d\n\nHe went out of the tent, and nothing in all his life became him better.\n\nBen-Hur flung himself on the divan and gave way to his feelings. When\nsomewhat recovered, he recollected that a portion of the letter\nremained unread, and, taking it up, he resumed the reading. \u201cThou wilt\nremember,\u201d the missive ran, \u201cwhat thou didst with the mother and sister\nof the malefactor; yet, if now I yield to a desire to learn if they be\nliving or dead\u201d\u2014Ben-Hur started, and read again, and then again, and at\nlast broke into exclamation. \u201cHe does not know they are dead; he does\nnot know it! Blessed be the name of the Lord! there is yet hope.\u201d He\nfinished the sentence, and was strengthened by it, and went on bravely\nto the end of the letter.\n\n\u201cThey are not dead,\u201d he said, after reflection; \u201cthey are not dead, or\nhe would have heard of it.\u201d\n\nA second reading, more careful than the first, confirmed him in the\nopinion. Then he sent for the sheik.\n\n\u201cIn coming to your hospitable tent, O sheik,\u201d he said, calmly, when the\nArab was seated and they were alone, \u201cit was not in my mind to speak of\nmyself further than to assure you I had sufficient training to be\nintrusted with your horses. I declined to tell you my history. But the\nchances which have sent this paper to my hand and given it to me to be\nread are so strange that I feel bidden to trust you with everything.\nAnd I am the more inclined to do so by knowledge here conveyed that we\nare both of us threatened by the same enemy, against whom it is needful\nthat we make common cause. I will read the letter and give you\nexplanation; after which you will not wonder I was so moved. If you\nthought me weak or childish, you will then excuse me.\u201d\n\nThe sheik held his peace, listening closely, until Ben-Hur came to the\nparagraph in which he was particularly mentioned: \u201c\u2018I saw the Jew\nyesterday in the Grove of Daphne;\u2019\u201d so ran the part, \u201c\u2018and if he be not\nthere now, he is certainly in the neighborhood, making it easy for me\nto keep him in eye. Indeed, wert thou to ask me where he is now, I\nshould say, with the most positive assurance, he is to be found at the\nold Orchard of Palms.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cA\u2014h!\u201d exclaimed Ilderim, in such a tone one might hardly say he was\nmore surprised than angry; at the same time, he clutched his beard.\n\n\u201c\u2018At the old Orchard of Palms,\u2019\u201d Ben-Hur repeated, \u201c\u2018under the tent of\nthe traitor Shiek Ilderim.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cTraitor!\u2014I?\u201d the old man cried, in his shrillest tone, while lip and\nbeard curled with ire, and on his forehead and neck the veins swelled\nand beat as they would burst.\n\n\u201cYet a moment, sheik,\u201d said Ben-Hur, with a deprecatory gesture. \u201cSuch\nis Messala\u2019s opinion of you. Hear his threat.\u201d And he read on\u2014\u201c\u2018under\nthe tent of the traitor Sheik Ilderim, who cannot long escape our\nstrong hand. Be not surprised if Maxentius, as his first measure,\nplaces the Arab on ship for forwarding to Rome.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cTo Rome! Me\u2014Ilderim\u2014sheik of ten thousand horsemen with spears\u2014me to\nRome!\u201d\n\nHe leaped rather than rose to his feet, his arms outstretched, his\nfingers spread and curved like claws, his eyes glittering like a\nserpent\u2019s.\n\n\u201cO God!\u2014nay, by all the gods except of Rome!\u2014when shall this insolence\nend? A freeman am I; free are my people. Must we die slaves? Or, worse,\nmust I live a dog, crawling to a master\u2019s feet? Must I lick his hand,\nlest he lash me? What is mine is not mine; I am not my own; for breath\nof body I must be beholden to a Roman. Oh, if I were young again! Oh,\ncould I shake off twenty years\u2014or ten\u2014or five!\u201d\n\nHe ground his teeth and shook his hands overhead; then, under the\nimpulse of another idea, he walked away and back again to Ben-Hur\nswiftly, and caught his shoulder with a strong grasp.\n\n\u201cIf I were as thou, son of Arrius\u2014as young, as strong, as practised in\narms; if I had a motive hissing me to revenge\u2014a motive, like thine,\ngreat enough to make hate holy\u2014 Away with disguise on thy part and on\nmine! Son of Hur, son of Hur, I say\u2014\u201d\n\nAt that name all the currents of Ben-Hur\u2019s blood stopped; surprised,\nbewildered, he gazed into the Arab\u2019s eyes, now close to his, and\nfiercely bright.\n\n\u201cSon of Hur, I say, were I as thou, with half thy wrongs, bearing about\nwith me memories like thine, I would not, I could not, rest.\u201d Never\npausing, his words following each other torrent-like, the old man swept\non. \u201cTo all my grievances, I would add those of the world, and devote\nmyself to vengeance. From land to land I would go firing all mankind.\nNo war for freedom but should find me engaged; no battle against Rome\nin which I would not bear a part. I would turn Parthian, if I could not\nbetter. If men failed me, still I would not give over the effort\u2014ha,\nha, ha! By the splendor of God! I would herd with wolves, and make\nfriends of lions and tigers, in hope of marshalling them against the\ncommon enemy. I would use every weapon. So my victims were Romans, I\nwould rejoice in slaughter. Quarter I would not ask; quarter I would\nnot give. To the flames everything Roman; to the sword every Roman\nborn. Of nights I would pray the gods, the good and the bad alike, to\nlend me their special terrors\u2014tempests, drought, heat, cold, and all\nthe nameless poisons they let loose in air, all the thousand things of\nwhich men die on sea and on land. Oh, I could not sleep. I\u2014I\u2014\u201d\n\nThe sheik stopped for want of breath, panting, wringing his hands. And,\nsooth to say, of all the passionate burst Ben-Hur retained but a vague\nimpression wrought by fiery eyes, a piercing voice, and a rage too\nintense for coherent expression.\n\nFor the first time in years, the desolate youth heard himself addressed\nby his proper name. One man at least knew him, and acknowledged it\nwithout demand of identity; and he an Arab fresh from the desert!\n\nHow came the man by his knowledge? The letter? No. It told the\ncruelties from which his family had suffered; it told the story of his\nown misfortunes, but it did not say he was the very victim whose escape\nfrom doom was the theme of the heartless narrative. That was the point\nof explanation he had notified the sheik would follow the reading of\nthe letter. He was pleased, and thrilled with hope restored, yet kept\nan air of calmness.\n\n\u201cGood sheik, tell me how you came by this letter.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy people keep the roads between cities,\u201d Ilderim answered, bluntly.\n\u201cThey took it from a courier.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they known to be thy people?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. To the world they are robbers, whom it is mine to catch and slay.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgain, sheik. You call me son of Hur\u2014my father\u2019s name. I did not think\nmyself known to a person on earth. How came you by the knowledge?\u201d\n\nIlderim hesitated; but, rallying, he answered, \u201cI know you, yet I am\nnot free to tell you more.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome one holds you in restraint?\u201d\n\nThe sheik closed his mouth, and walked away; but, observing Ben-Hur\u2019s\ndisappointment, he came back, and said, \u201cLet us say no more about the\nmatter now. I will go to town; when I return, I may talk to you fully.\nGive me the letter.\u201d\n\nIlderim rolled the papyrus carefully, restored it to its envelopes, and\nbecame once more all energy.\n\n\u201cWhat sayest thou?\u201d he asked, while waiting for his horse and retinue.\n\u201cI told what I would do, were I thou, and thou hast made no answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cI intended to answer, sheik, and I will.\u201d Ben-Hur\u2019s countenance and\nvoice changed with the feeling invoked. \u201cAll thou hast said, I will\ndo\u2014all at least in the power of a man. I devoted myself to vengeance\nlong ago. Every hour of the five years passed, I have lived with no\nother thought. I have taken no respite. I have had no pleasures of\nyouth. The blandishments of Rome were not for me. I wanted her to\neducate me for revenge. I resorted to her most famous masters and\nprofessors\u2014not those of rhetoric or philosophy: alas! I had no time for\nthem. The arts essential to a fighting-man were my desire. I associated\nwith gladiators, and with winners of prizes in the Circus; and they\nwere my teachers. The drill-masters in the great camp accepted me as a\nscholar, and were proud of my attainments in their line. O sheik, I am\na soldier; but the things of which I dream require me to be a captain.\nWith that thought, I have taken part in the campaign against the\nParthians; when it is over, then, if the Lord spare my life and\nstrength\u2014then\u201d\u2014he raised his clenched hands, and spoke vehemently\u2014\u201cthen\nI will be an enemy Roman-taught in all things; then Rome shall account\nto me in Roman lives for her ills. You have my answer, sheik.\u201d\n\nIlderim put an arm over his shoulder, and kissed him, saying,\npassionately, \u201cIf thy God favor thee not, son of Hur, it is because he\nis dead. Take thou this from me\u2014sworn to, if so thy preference run:\nthou shalt have my hands, and their fulness\u2014men, horses, camels, and\nthe desert for preparation. I swear it! For the present, enough. Thou\nshalt see or hear from me before night.\u201d\n\nTurning abruptly off, the sheik was speedily on the road to the city.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nThe intercepted letter was conclusive upon a number of points of great\ninterest to Ben-Hur. It had all the effect of a confession that the\nwriter was a party to the putting-away of the family with murderous\nintent; that he had sanctioned the plan adopted for the purpose; that\nhe had received a portion of the proceeds of the confiscation, and was\nyet in enjoyment of his part; that he dreaded the unexpected appearance\nof what he was pleased to call the chief malefactor, and accepted it as\na menace; that he contemplated such further action as would secure him\nin the future, and was ready to do whatever his accomplice in C\u00e6sarea\nmight advise.\n\nAnd, now that the letter had reached the hand of him really its\nsubject, it was notice of danger to come, as well as a confession of\nguilt. So when Ilderim left the tent, Ben-Hur had much to think about,\nrequiring immediate action. His enemies were as adroit and powerful as\nany in the East. If they were afraid of him, he had greater reason to\nbe afraid of them. He strove earnestly to reflect upon the situation,\nbut could not; his feelings constantly overwhelmed him. There was a\ncertain qualified pleasure in the assurance that his mother and sister\nwere alive; and it mattered little that the foundation of the assurance\nwas a mere inference. That there was one person who could tell him\nwhere they were seemed to his hope so long deferred as if discovery\nwere now close at hand. These were mere causes of feeling; underlying\nthem, it must be confessed he had a superstitious fancy that God was\nabout to make ordination in his behalf, in which event faith whispered\nhim to stand still.\n\nOccasionally, referring to the words of Ilderim, he wondered whence the\nArab derived his information about him; not from Malluch certainly; nor\nfrom Simonides, whose interests, all adverse, would hold him dumb.\nCould Messala have been the informant? No, no: disclosure might be\ndangerous in that quarter. Conjecture was vain; at the same time, often\nas Ben-Hur was beaten back from the solution, he was consoled with the\nthought that whoever the person with the knowledge might be, he was a\nfriend, and, being such, would reveal himself in good time. A little\nmore waiting\u2014a little more patience. Possibly the errand of the sheik\nwas to see the worthy; possibly the letter might precipitate a full\ndisclosure.\n\nAnd patient he would have been if only he could have believed Tirzah\nand his mother were waiting for him under circumstances permitting hope\non their part strong as his; if, in other words, conscience had not\nstung him with accusations respecting them.\n\nTo escape such accusations, he wandered far through the Orchard,\npausing now where the date-gatherers were busy, yet not too busy to\noffer him of their fruit and talk with him; then, under the great\ntrees, to watch the nesting birds, or hear the bees swarming about the\nberries bursting with honeyed sweetness, and filling all the green and\ngolden spaces with the music of their beating wings.\n\nBy the lake, however, he lingered longest. He might not look upon the\nwater and its sparkling ripples, so like sensuous life, without\nthinking of the Egyptian and her marvellous beauty, and of floating\nwith her here and there through the night, made brilliant by her songs\nand stories; he might not forget the charm of her manner, the lightness\nof her laugh, the flattery of her attention, the warmth of her little\nhand under his upon the tiller of the boat. From her it was for his\nthought but a short way to Balthasar, and the strange things of which\nhe had been witness, unaccountable by any law of nature; and from him,\nagain, to the King of the Jews, whom the good man, with such pathos of\npatience, was holding in holy promise, the distance was even nearer.\nAnd there his mind stayed, finding in the mysteries of that personage a\nsatisfaction answering well for the rest he was seeking. Because, it\nmay have been, nothing is so easy as denial of an idea not agreeable to\nour wishes, he rejected the definition given by Balthasar of the\nkingdom the king was coming to establish. A kingdom of souls, if not\nintolerable to his Sadducean faith, seemed to him but an abstraction\ndrawn from the depths of a devotion too fond and dreamy. A kingdom of\nJudea, on the other hand, was more than comprehensible: such had been,\nand, if only for that reason, might be again. And it suited his pride\nto think of a new kingdom broader of domain, richer in power, and of a\nmore unapproachable splendor than the old one; of a new king wiser and\nmightier than Solomon\u2014a new king under whom, especially, he could find\nboth service and revenge. In that mood he resumed to the dowar.\n\nThe mid-day meal disposed of, still further to occupy himself, Ben-Hur\nhad the chariot rolled out into the sunlight for inspection. The word\nbut poorly conveys the careful study the vehicle underwent. No point or\npart of it escaped him. With a pleasure which will be better understood\nhereafter, he saw the pattern was Greek, in his judgment preferable to\nthe Roman in many respects; it was wider between the wheels, and lower\nand stronger, and the disadvantage of greater weight would be more than\ncompensated by the greater endurance of his Arabs. Speaking generally,\nthe carriage-makers of Rome built for the games almost solely,\nsacrificing safety to beauty, and durability to grace; while the\nchariots of Achilles and \u201cthe king of men,\u201d designed for war and all\nits extreme tests, still ruled the tastes of those who met and\nstruggled for the crowns Isthmian and Olympic.\n\nNext he brought the horses, and, hitching them to the chariot, drove to\nthe field of exercise, where, hour after hour, he practised them in\nmovement under the yoke. When he came away in the evening, it was with\nrestored spirit, and a fixed purpose to defer action in the matter of\nMessala until the race was won or lost. He could not forego the\npleasure of meeting his adversary under the eyes of the East; that\nthere might be other competitors seemed not to enter his thought. His\nconfidence in the result was absolute; no doubt of his own skill; and\nas to the four, they were his full partners in the glorious game.\n\n\u201cLet him look to it, let him look to it! Ha, Antares\u2014Aldebaran! Shall\nhe not, O honest Rigel? and thou, Atair, king among coursers, shall he\nnot beware of us? Ha, ha! good hearts!\u201d\n\nSo in rests he passed from horse to horse, speaking, not as a master,\nbut the senior of as many brethren.\n\nAfter nightfall, Ben-Hur sat by the door of the tent waiting for\nIlderim, not yet returned from the city. He was not impatient, or\nvexed, or doubtful. The sheik would be heard from, at least. Indeed,\nwhether it was from satisfaction with the performance of the four, or\nthe refreshment there is in cold water succeeding bodily exercise, or\nsupper partaken with royal appetite, or the reaction which, as a kindly\nprovision of nature, always follows depression, the young man was in\ngood-humor verging upon elation. He felt himself in the hands of\nProvidence no longer his enemy. At last there was a sound of horse\u2019s\nfeet coming rapidly, and Malluch rode up.\n\n\u201cSon of Arrius,\u201d he said, cheerily, after salutation, \u201cI salute you for\nSheik Ilderim, who requests you to mount and go to the city. He is\nwaiting for you.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur asked no questions, but went in where the horses were feeding.\nAldebaran came to him, as if offering his service. He played with him\nlovingly, but passed on, and chose another, not of the four\u2014they were\nsacred to the race. Very shortly the two were on the road, going\nswiftly and in silence.\n\nSome distance below the Seleucian Bridge, they crossed the river by a\nferry, and, riding far round on the right bank, and recrossing by\nanother ferry, entered the city from the west. The detour was long, but\nBen-Hur accepted it as a precaution for which there was good reason.\n\nDown to Simonides\u2019 landing they rode, and in front of the great\nwarehouse, under the bridge, Malluch drew rein.\n\n\u201cWe are come,\u201d he said. \u201cDismount.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur recognized the place.\n\n\u201cWhere is the sheik?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cCome with me. I will show you.\u201d\n\nA watchman took the horses, and almost before he realized it Ben-Hur\nstood once more at the door of the house up on the greater one,\nlistening to the response from within\u2014\u201cIn God\u2019s name, enter.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nMalluch stopped at the door; Ben-Hur entered alone.\n\nThe room was the same in which he had formerly interviewed Simonides,\nand it had been in nowise changed, except now, close by the arm-chair,\na polished brazen rod, set on a broad wooden pedestal, arose higher\nthan a tall man, holding lamps of silver on sliding arms, half-a-dozen\nor more in number, and all burning. The light was clear, bringing into\nview the panelling on the walls, the cornice with its row of gilded\nballs, and the dome dully tinted with violet mica.\n\nWithin a few steps, Ben-Hur stopped.\n\nThree persons were present, looking at him\u2014Simonides, Ilderim, and\nEsther.\n\nHe glanced hurriedly from one to another, as if to find answer to the\nquestion half formed in his mind, What business can these have with me?\nHe became calm, with every sense on the alert, for the question was\nsucceeded by another, Are they friends or enemies?\n\nAt length, his eyes rested upon Esther.\n\nThe men returned his look kindly; in her face there was something more\nthan kindness\u2014something too _spirituel_ for definition, which yet went\nto his inner consciousness without definition.\n\nShall it be said, good reader? Back of his gaze there was a comparison\nin which the Egyptian arose and set herself over against the gentle\nJewess; but it lived an instant, and, as is the habit of such\ncomparisons, passed away without a conclusion.\n\n\u201cSon of Hur\u2014\u201d\n\nThe guest turned to the speaker.\n\n\u201cSon of Hur,\u201d said Simonides, repeating the address slowly, and with\ndistinct emphasis, as if to impress all its meaning upon him most\ninterested in understanding it, \u201ctake thou the peace of the Lord God of\nour fathers\u2014take it from me.\u201d He paused, then added, \u201cFrom me and\nmine.\u201d\n\nThe speaker sat in his chair; there were the royal head, the bloodless\nface, the masterful air, under the influence of which visitors forgot\nthe broken limbs and distorted body of the man. The full black eyes\ngazed out under the white brows steadily, but not sternly. A moment\nthus, then he crossed his hands upon his breast.\n\nThe action, taken with the salutation, could not be misunderstood, and\nwas not.\n\n\u201cSimonides,\u201d Ben-Hur answered, much moved, \u201cthe holy peace you tender\nis accepted. As son to father, I return it to you. Only let there be\nperfect understanding between us.\u201d\n\nThus delicately he sought to put aside the submission of the merchant,\nand, in place of the relation of master and servant, substitute one\nhigher and holier.\n\nSimonides let fall his hands, and, turning to Esther, said, \u201cA seat for\nthe master, daughter.\u201d\n\nShe hastened, and brought a stool, and stood, with suffused face,\nlooking from one to the other\u2014from Ben-Hur to Simonides, from Simonides\nto Ben-Hur; and they waited, each declining the superiority direction\nwould imply. When at length the pause began to be embarrassing, Ben-Hur\nadvanced, and gently took the stool from her, and, going to the chair,\nplaced it at the merchant\u2019s feet.\n\n\u201cI will sit here,\u201d he said.\n\nHis eyes met hers\u2014an instant only; but both were better of the look. He\nrecognized her gratitude, she his generosity and forbearance.\n\nSimonides bowed his acknowledgment.\n\n\u201cEsther, child, bring me the paper,\u201d he said, with a breath of relief.\n\nShe went to a panel in the wall, opened it, took out a roll of papyri,\nand brought and gave it to him.\n\n\u201cThou saidst well, son of Hur,\u201d Simonides began, while unrolling the\nsheets. \u201cLet us understand each other. In anticipation of the\ndemand\u2014which I would have made hadst thou waived it\u2014I have here a\nstatement covering everything necessary to the understanding required.\nI could see but two points involved\u2014the property first, and then our\nrelation. The statement is explicit as to both. Will it please thee to\nread it now?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur received the papers, but glanced at Ilderim.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Simonides, \u201cthe sheik shall not deter thee from reading.\nThe account\u2014such thou wilt find it\u2014is of a nature requiring a witness.\nIn the attesting place at the end thou wilt find, when thou comest to\nit, the name\u2014Ilderim, Sheik. He knows all. He is thy friend. All he has\nbeen to me, that will he be to thee also.\u201d\n\nSimonides looked at the Arab, nodding pleasantly, and the latter\ngravely returned the nod, saying, \u201cThou hast said.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur replied, \u201cI know already the excellence of his friendship, and\nhave yet to prove myself worthy of it.\u201d Immediately he continued,\n\u201cLater, O Simonides, I will read the papers carefully; for the present,\ndo thou take them, and if thou be not too weary, give me their\nsubstance.\u201d\n\nSimonides took back the roll.\n\n\u201cHere, Esther, stand by me and receive the sheets, lest they fall into\nconfusion.\u201d\n\nShe took place by his chair, letting her right arm fall lightly across\nhis shoulder, so, when he spoke, the account seemed to have rendition\nfrom both of them jointly.\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d said Simonides, drawing out the first leaf, \u201cshows the money I\nhad of thy father\u2019s, being the amount saved from the Romans; there was\nno property saved, only money, and that the robbers would have secured\nbut for our Jewish custom of bills of exchange. The amount saved, being\nsums I drew from Rome, Alexandria, Damascus, Carthage, Valentia, and\nelsewhere within the circle of trade, was one hundred and twenty\ntalents Jewish money.\u201d\n\nHe gave the sheet to Esther, and took the next one.\n\n\u201cWith that amount\u2014one hundred and twenty talents\u2014I charged myself. Hear\nnow my credits. I use the word, as thou wilt see, with reference rather\nto the proceeds gained from the use of the money.\u201d\n\nFrom separate sheets he then read footings, which, fractions omitted,\nwere as follows:\n\nBy ships    60 talents \u201d goods in store    110   \u201d \u201d cargoes in\ntransit    75   \u201d \u201d camels, horses, etc.    20   \u201d \u201d warehouses    10\n\u201d \u201d bills due\t54   \u201d \u201d money on hand and subject to draft\t224   \u201d\n\u2014\u2014 Total\t553   \u201d\n\n\u201cTo these now, to the five hundred and fifty-three talents gained, add\nthe original capital I had from thy father, and thou hast SIX HUNDRED\nAND SEVENTY THREE TALENTS!\u2014and all thine\u2014making thee, O son of Hur, the\nrichest subject in the world.\u201d\n\nHe took the papyri from Esther, and, reserving one, rolled them and\noffered them to Ben-Hur. The pride perceptible in his manner was not\noffensive; it might have been from a sense of duty well done; it might\nhave been for Ben-Hur without reference to himself.\n\n\u201cAnd there is nothing,\u201d he added, dropping his voice, but not his\neyes\u2014\u201cthere is nothing now thou mayst not do.\u201d\n\nThe moment was one of absorbing interest to all present. Simonides\ncrossed his hands upon his breast again; Esther was anxious; Ilderim\nnervous. A man is never so on trial as in the moment of excessive\ngood-fortune.\n\nTaking the roll, Ben-Hur arose, struggling with emotion.\n\n\u201cAll this is to me as a light from heaven, sent to drive away a night\nwhich has been so long I feared it would never end, and so dark I had\nlost the hope of seeing,\u201d he said, with a husky voice. \u201cI give first\nthanks to the Lord, who has not abandoned me, and my next to thee, O\nSimonides. Thy faithfulness outweighs the cruelty of others, and\nredeems our human nature. \u2018There is nothing I cannot do:\u2019 be it so.\nShall any man in this my hour of such mighty privilege be more generous\nthan I? Serve me as a witness now, Sheik Ilderim. Hear thou my words as\nI shall speak them\u2014hear and remember. And thou, Esther, good angel of\nthis good man! hear thou also.\u201d\n\nHe stretched his hand with the roll to Simonides.\n\n\u201cThe things these papers take into account\u2014all of them: ships, houses,\ngoods, camels, horses, money; the least as well as the greatest\u2014give I\nback to thee, O Simonides, making them all thine, and sealing them to\nthee and thine forever.\u201d\n\nEsther smiled through her tears; Ilderim pulled his beard with rapid\nmotion, his eyes glistening like beads of jet. Simonides alone was\ncalm.\n\n\u201cSealing them to thee and thine forever,\u201d Ben-Hur continued, with\nbetter control of himself, \u201cwith one exception, and upon one\ncondition.\u201d\n\nThe breath of the listeners waited upon his words.\n\n\u201cThe hundred and twenty talents which were my father\u2019s thou shalt\nreturn to me.\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s countenance brightened.\n\n\u201cAnd thou shalt join me in search of my mother and sister, holding all\nthine subject to the expense of discovery, even as I will hold mine.\u201d\n\nSimonides was much affected. Stretching out his hand, he said, \u201cI see\nthy spirit, son of Hur, and I am grateful to the Lord that he hath sent\nthee to me such as thou art. If I served well thy father in life, and\nhis memory afterwards, be not afraid of default to thee; yet must I say\nthe exception cannot stand.\u201d\n\nExhibiting, then, the reserved sheet, he continued,\n\n\u201cThou hast not all the account. Take this and read\u2014read aloud.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took the supplement, and read it.\n\n\u201cStatement of the servants of Hur, rendered by Simonides, steward of\nthe estate.\n\n1. Amrah, Egyptian, keeping the palace in Jerusalem.\n2. Simonides, the steward, in Antioch.\n3. Esther, daughter of Simonides.\u201d\n\nNow, in all his thoughts of Simonides, not once had it entered\nBen-Hur\u2019s mind that, by the law, a daughter followed the parent\u2019s\ncondition. In all his visions of her, the sweet-faced Esther had\nfigured as the rival of the Egyptian, and an object of possible love.\nHe shrank from the revelation so suddenly brought him, and looked at\nher blushing; and, blushing, she dropped her eyes before him. Then he\nsaid, while the papyrus rolled itself together,\n\n\u201cA man with six hundred talents is indeed rich, and may do what he\npleases; but, rarer than the money, more priceless than the property,\nis the mind which amassed the wealth, and the heart it could not\ncorrupt when amassed. O Simonides\u2014and thou, fair Esther\u2014fear not. Sheik\nIlderim here shall be witness that in the same moment ye were declared\nmy servants, that moment I declared ye free; and what I declare, that\nwill I put in writing. Is it not enough? Can I do more?\u201d\n\n\u201cSon of Hur,\u201d said Simonides, \u201cverily thou dost make servitude\nlightsome. I was wrong; there are some things thou canst not do; thou\ncanst not make us free in law. I am thy servant forever, because I went\nto the door with thy father one day, and in my ear the awl-marks yet\nabide.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid my father that?\u201d\n\n\u201cJudge him not,\u201d cried Simonides, quickly. \u201cHe accepted me a servant of\nthat class because I prayed him to do so. I never repented the step. It\nwas the price I paid for Rachel, the mother of my child here; for\nRachel, who would not be my wife unless I became what she was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas she a servant forever?\u201d\n\n\u201cEven so.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur walked the floor in pain of impotent wish.\n\n\u201cI was rich before,\u201d he said, stopping suddenly. \u201cI was rich with the\ngifts of the generous Arrius; now comes this greater fortune, and the\nmind which achieved it. Is there not a purpose of God in it all?\nCounsel me, O Simonides! Help me to see the right and do it. Help me to\nbe worthy my name, and what thou art in law to me, that will I be to\nthee in fact and deed. I will be thy servant forever.\u201d\n\nSimonides\u2019 face actually glowed.\n\n\u201cO son of my dead master! I will do better than help; I will serve thee\nwith all my might of mind and heart. Body, I have not; it perished in\nthy cause; but with mind and heart I will serve thee. I swear it, by\nthe altar of our God, and the gifts upon the altar! Only make me\nformally what I have assumed to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cName it,\u201d said Ben-Hur, eagerly.\n\n\u201cAs steward the care of the property will be mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cCount thyself steward now; or wilt thou have it in writing?\u201d\n\n\u201cThy word simply is enough; it was so with the father, and I will not\nmore from the son. And now, if the understanding be perfect\u201d\u2014Simonides\npaused.\n\n\u201cIt is with me,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cAnd thou, daughter of Rachel, speak!\u201d said Simonides, lifting her arm\nfrom his shoulder.\n\nEsther, left thus alone, stood a moment abashed, her color coming and\ngoing; then she went to Ben-Hur, and said, with a womanliness\nsingularly sweet, \u201cI am not better than my mother was; and, as she is\ngone, I pray you, O my master, let me care for my father.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took her hand, and led her back to the chair, saying, \u201cThou art\na good child. Have thy will.\u201d\n\nSimonides replaced her arm upon his neck, and there was silence for a\ntime in the room.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nSimonides looked up, none the less a master.\n\n\u201cEsther,\u201d he said, quietly, \u201cthe night is going fast; and, lest we\nbecome too weary for that which is before us, let the refreshments be\nbrought.\u201d\n\nShe rang a bell. A servant answered with wine and bread, which she bore\nround.\n\n\u201cThe understanding, good my master,\u201d continued Simonides, when all were\nserved, \u201cis not perfect in my sight. Henceforth our lives will run on\ntogether like rivers which have met and joined their waters. I think\ntheir flowing will be better if every cloud is blown from the sky above\nthem. You left my door the other day with what seemed a denial of the\nclaims which I have just allowed in the broadest terms; but it was not\nso, indeed it was not. Esther is witness that I recognized you; and\nthat I did not abandon you, let Malluch say.\u201d\n\n\u201cMalluch!\u201d exclaimed Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cOne bound to a chair, like me, must have many hands far-reaching, if\nhe would move the world from which he is so cruelly barred. I have many\nsuch, and Malluch is one of the best of them. And, sometimes\u201d\u2014he cast a\ngrateful glance at the sheik\u2014\u201csometimes I borrow from others good of\nheart, like Ilderim the Generous\u2014good and brave. Let him say if I\neither denied or forgot you.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked at the Arab.\n\n\u201cThis is he, good Ilderim, this is he who told you of me?\u201d\n\nIlderim\u2019s eyes twinkled as he nodded his answer.\n\n\u201cHow, O my master,\u201d said Simonides, \u201cmay we without trial tell what a\nman is? I knew you; I saw your father in you; but the kind of man you\nwere I did not know. There are people to whom fortune is a curse in\ndisguise. Were you of them? I sent Malluch to find out for me, and in\nthe service he was my eyes and ears. Do not blame him. He brought me\nreport of you which was all good.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not,\u201d said Ben-Hur, heartily. \u201cThere was wisdom in your\ngoodness.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe words are very pleasant to me,\u201d said the merchant, with feeling,\n\u201cvery pleasant. My fear of misunderstanding is laid. Let the rivers run\non now as God may give them direction.\u201d\n\nAfter an interval he continued:\n\n\u201cI am compelled now by truth. The weaver sits weaving, and, as the\nshuttle flies, the cloth increases, and the figures grow, and he dreams\ndreams meanwhile; so to my hands the fortune grew, and I wondered at\nthe increase, and asked myself about it many times. I could see a care\nnot my own went with the enterprises I set going. The simooms which\nsmote others on the desert jumped over the things which were mine. The\nstorms which heaped the seashore with wrecks did but blow my ships the\nsooner into port. Strangest of all, I, so dependent upon others, fixed\nto a place like a dead thing, had never a loss by an agent\u2014never. The\nelements stooped to serve me, and all my servants, in fact, were\nfaithful.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is very strange,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cSo I said, and kept saying. Finally, O my master, finally I came to be\nof your opinion\u2014God was in it\u2014and, like you, I asked, What can his\npurpose be? Intelligence is never wasted; intelligence like God\u2019s never\nstirs except with design. I have held the question in heart, lo! these\nmany years, watching for an answer. I felt sure, if God were in it,\nsome day, in his own good time, in his own way, he would show me his\npurpose, making it clear as a whited house upon a hill. And I believe\nhe has done so.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur listened with every faculty intent.\n\n\u201cMany years ago, with my people\u2014thy mother was with me, Esther,\nbeautiful as morning over old Olivet\u2014I sat by the wayside out north of\nJerusalem, near the Tombs of the Kings, when three men passed by riding\ngreat white camels, such as had never been seen in the Holy City. The\nmen were strangers, and from far countries. The first one stopped and\nasked me a question. \u2018Where is he that is born King of the Jews?\u2019 As if\nto allay my wonder, he went on to say, \u2018We have seen his star in the\neast, and have come to worship him.\u2019 I could not understand, but\nfollowed them to the Damascus Gate; and of every person they met on the\nway\u2014of the guard at the Gate, even\u2014they asked the question. All who\nheard it were amazed like me. In time I forgot the circumstance, though\nthere was much talk of it as a presage of the Messiah. Alas, alas! What\nchildren we are, even the wisest! When God walks the earth, his steps\nare often centuries apart. You have seen Balthasar?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd heard him tell his story,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cA miracle!\u2014a very miracle!\u201d cried Simonides. \u201cAs he told it to me,\ngood my master, I seemed to hear the answer I had so long waited; God\u2019s\npurpose burst upon me. Poor will the King be when he comes\u2014poor and\nfriendless; without following, without armies, without cities or\ncastles; a kingdom to be set up, and Rome reduced and blotted out. See,\nsee, O my master! thou flushed with strength, thou trained to arms,\nthou burdened with riches; behold the opportunity the Lord hath sent\nthee! Shall not his purpose be thine? Could a man be born to a more\nperfect glory?\u201d\n\nSimonides put his whole force in the appeal.\n\n\u201cBut the kingdom, the kingdom!\u201d Ben-Hur answered, eagerly. \u201cBalthasar\nsays it is to be of souls.\u201d\n\nThe pride of the Jew was strong in Simonides, and therefore the\nslightly contemptuous curl of the lip with which he began his reply:\n\n\u201cBalthasar has been a witness of wonderful things\u2014of miracles, O my\nmaster; and when he speaks of them, I bow with belief, for they are of\nsight and sound personal to him. But he is a son of Mizraim, and not\neven a proselyte. Hardly may he be supposed to have special knowledge\nby virtue of which we must bow to him in a matter of God\u2019s dealing with\nour Israel. The prophets had their light from Heaven directly, even as\nhe had his\u2014many to one, and Jehovah the same forever. I must believe\nthe prophets.\u2014Bring me the Torah, Esther.\u201d\n\nHe proceeded without waiting for her.\n\n\u201cMay the testimony of a whole people be slighted, my master? Though you\ntravel from Tyre, which is by the sea in the north, to the capital of\nEdom, which is in the desert south, you will not find a lisper of the\nShema, an alms-giver in the Temple, or any one who has ever eaten of\nthe lamb of the Passover, to tell you the kingdom the King is coming to\nbuild for us, the children of the covenant, is other than of this\nworld, like our father David\u2019s. Now where got they the faith, ask you!\nWe will see presently.\u201d\n\nEsther here returned, bringing a number of rolls carefully enveloped in\ndark-brown linen lettered quaintly in gold.\n\n\u201cKeep them, daughter, to give to me as I call for them,\u201d the father\nsaid, in the tender voice he always used in speaking to her, and\ncontinued his argument:\n\n\u201cIt were long, good my master\u2014too long, indeed\u2014for me to repeat to you\nthe names of the holy men who, in the providence of God, succeeded the\nprophets, only a little less favored than they\u2014the seers who have\nwritten and the preachers who have taught since the Captivity; the very\nwise who borrowed their lights from the lamp of Malachi, the last of\nhis line, and whose great names Hillel and Shammai never tired of\nrepeating in the colleges. Will you ask them of the kingdom? Thus, the\nLord of the sheep in the Book of Enoch\u2014who is he? Who but the King of\nwhom we are speaking? A throne is set up for him; he smites the earth,\nand the other kings are shaken from their thrones, and the scourges of\nIsrael flung into a cavern of fire flaming with pillars of fire. So\nalso the singer of the Psalms of Solomon\u2014\u2018Behold, O Lord, and raise up\nto Israel their king, the son of David, at the time thou knowest, O\nGod, to rule Israel, thy children.... And he will bring the peoples of\nthe heathen under his yoke to serve him.... And he shall be a righteous\nking taught of God, ... for he shall rule all the earth by the word of\nhis mouth forever.\u2019 And last, though not least, hear Ezra, the second\nMoses, in his visions of the night, and ask him who is the lion with\nhuman voice that says to the eagle\u2014which is Rome\u2014\u2018Thou hast loved\nliars, and overthrown the cities of the industrious, and razed their\nwalls, though they did thee no harm. Therefore, begone, that the earth\nmay be refreshed, and recover itself, and hope in the justice and piety\nof him who made her.\u2019 Whereat the eagle was seen no more. Surely, O my\nmaster, the testimony of these should be enough! But the way to the\nfountain\u2019s head is open. Let us go up to it at once.\u2014Some wine, Esther,\nand then the Torah.\u201d\n\n\u201cDost thou believe the prophets, master?\u201d he asked, after drinking. \u201cI\nknow thou dost, for of such was the faith of all thy kindred.\u2014Give me,\nEsther, the book which hath in it the visions of Isaiah.\u201d\n\nHe took one of the rolls which she had unwrapped for him, and read,\n\u201c\u2018The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that\ndwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light\nshined.... For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the\ngovernment shall be upon his shoulder.... Of the increase of his\ngovernment and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David,\nand upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment\nand with justice from henceforth even forever.\u2019\u2014Believest thou the\nprophets, O my master?\u2014Now, Esther, the word of the Lord that came to\nMicah.\u201d\n\nShe gave him the roll he asked.\n\n\u201c\u2018But thou,\u2019\u201d he began reading\u2014\u201c\u2018but thou, Bethlehem Ephrath, though\nthou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he\ncome forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel.\u2019\u2014This was he, the\nvery child Balthasar saw and worshipped in the cave. Believest thou the\nprophets, O my master?\u2014Give me, Esther, the words of Jeremiah.\u201d\n\nReceiving that roll, he read as before, \u201c\u2018Behold, the days come, saith\nthe Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous branch, and a king\nshall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and justice in the\nearth. In his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell\nsafely.\u2019 As a king he shall reign\u2014as a king, O my master! Believest\nthou the prophets?\u2014Now, daughter, the roll of the sayings of that son\nof Judah in whom there was no blemish.\u201d\n\nShe gave him the Book of Daniel.\n\n\u201cHear, my master,\u201d he said: \u201c\u2018I saw in the night visions, and behold,\none like the Son of man came with the clouds of heaven.... And there\nwas given him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people,\nnations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting\ndominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which shall\nnot be destroyed.\u2019\u2014Believest thou the prophets, O my master?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is enough. I believe,\u201d cried Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cWhat then?\u201d asked Simonides. \u201cIf the King come poor, will not my\nmaster, of his abundance, give him help?\u201d\n\n\u201cHelp him? To the last shekel and the last breath. But why speak of his\ncoming poor?\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me, Esther, the word of the Lord as it came to Zechariah,\u201d said\nSimonides.\n\nShe gave him one of the rolls.\n\n\u201cHear how the King will enter Jerusalem.\u201d Then he read, \u201c\u2018Rejoice\ngreatly, O daughter of Zion.... Behold, thy King cometh unto thee with\njustice and salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt,\nthe foal of an ass.\u2019\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked away.\n\n\u201cWhat see you, O my master?\u201d\n\n\u201cRome!\u201d he answered, gloomily\u2014\u201cRome, and her legions. I have dwelt with\nthem in their camps. I know them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said Simonides. \u201cThou shalt be a master of legions for the King,\nwith millions to choose from.\u201d\n\n\u201cMillions!\u201d cried Ben-Hur.\n\nSimonides sat a moment thinking.\n\n\u201cThe question of power should not trouble you,\u201d he next said.\n\nBen-Hur looked at him inquiringly.\n\n\u201cYou were seeing the lowly King in the act of coming to his own,\u201d\nSimonides answered\u2014\u201cseeing him on the right hand, as it were, and on\nthe left the brassy legions of C\u00e6sar, and you were asking, What can he\ndo?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was my very thought.\u201d\n\n\u201cO my master!\u201d Simonides continued. \u201cYou do not know how strong our\nIsrael is. You think of him as a sorrowful old man weeping by the\nrivers of Babylon. But go up to Jerusalem next Passover, and stand on\nthe Xystus or in the Street of Barter, and see him as he is. The\npromise of the Lord to father Jacob coming out of Padan-Aram was a law\nunder which our people have not ceased multiplying\u2014not even in\ncaptivity; they grew under foot of the Egyptian; the clench of the\nRoman has been but wholesome nurture to them; now they are indeed \u2018a\nnation and a company of nations.\u2019 Nor that only, my master; in fact, to\nmeasure the strength of Israel\u2014which is, in fact, measuring what the\nKing can do\u2014you shall not bide solely by the rule of natural increase,\nbut add thereto the other\u2014I mean the spread of the faith, which will\ncarry you to the far and near of the whole known earth. Further, the\nhabit is, I know, to think and speak of Jerusalem as Israel, which may\nbe likened to our finding an embroidered shred, and holding it up as a\nmagisterial robe of C\u00e6sar\u2019s. Jerusalem is but a stone of the Temple,\nor the heart in the body. Turn from beholding the legions, strong\nthough they be, and count the hosts of the faithful waiting the old\nalarm, \u2018To your tents, O Israel!\u2019\u2014count the many in Persia, children of\nthose who chose not to return with the returning; count the brethren\nwho swarm the marts of Egypt and Farther Africa; count the Hebrew\ncolonists eking profit in the West\u2014in Lodinum and the trade-courts of\nSpain; count the pure of blood and the proselytes in Greece and in the\nisles of the sea, and over in Pontus, and here in Antioch, and, for\nthat matter, those of that city lying accursed in the shadow of the\nunclean walls of Rome herself; count the worshippers of the Lord\ndwelling in tents along the deserts next us, as well as in the deserts\nbeyond the Nile: and in the regions across the Caspian, and up in the\nold lands of Gog and Magog even, separate those who annually send gifts\nto the Holy Temple in acknowledgment of God\u2014separate them, that they\nmay be counted also. And when you have done counting, lo! my master, a\ncensus of the sword hands that await you; lo! a kingdom ready fashioned\nfor him who is to do \u2018judgment and justice in the whole earth\u2019\u2014in Rome\nnot less than in Zion. Have then the answer, What Israel can do, that\ncan the King.\u201d\n\nThe picture was fervently given.\n\nUpon Ilderim it operated like the blowing of a trumpet. \u201cOh that I had\nback my youth!\u201d he cried, starting to his feet.\n\nBen-Hur sat still. The speech, he saw, was an invitation to devote his\nlife and fortune to the mysterious Being who was palpably as much the\ncentre of a great hope with Simonides as with the devout Egyptian. The\nidea, as we have seen, was not a new one, but had come to him\nrepeatedly; once while listening to Malluch in the Grove of Daphne;\nafterwards more distinctly while Balthasar was giving his conception of\nwhat the kingdom was to be; still later, in the walk through the old\nOrchard, it had risen almost, if not quite, into a resolve. At such\ntimes it had come and gone only an idea, attended with feelings more or\nless acute. Not so now. A master had it in charge, a master was working\nit up; already he had exalted it into a _cause_ brilliant with\npossibilities and infinitely holy. The effect was as if a door\ntheretofore unseen had suddenly opened flooding Ben-Hur with light, and\nadmitting him to a service which had been his one perfect dream\u2014a\nservice reaching far into the future, and rich with the rewards of duty\ndone, and prizes to sweeten and soothe his ambition. One touch more was\nneeded.\n\n\u201cLet us concede all you say, O Simonides,\u201d said Ben-Hur\u2014\u201cthat the King\nwill come, and his kingdom be as Solomon\u2019s; say also I am ready to give\nmyself and all I have to him and his cause; yet more, say that I should\ndo as was God\u2019s purpose in the ordering of my life and in your quick\namassment of astonishing fortune; then what? Shall we proceed like\nblind men building? Shall we wait till the King comes? Or until he\nsends for me? You have age and experience on your side. Answer.\u201d\n\nSimonides answered at once.\n\n\u201cWe have no choice; none. This letter\u201d\u2014he produced Messala\u2019s despatch\nas he spoke\u2014\u201cthis letter is the signal for action. The alliance\nproposed between Messala and Gratus we are not strong enough to resist;\nwe have not the influence at Rome nor the force here. They will kill\nyou if we wait. How merciful they are, look at me and judge.\u201d\n\nHe shuddered at the terrible recollection.\n\n\u201cO good my master,\u201d he continued, recovering himself; \u201chow strong are\nyou\u2014in purpose, I mean?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur did not understand him.\n\n\u201cI remember how pleasant the world was to me in my youth,\u201d Simonides\nproceeded.\n\n\u201cYet,\u201d said Ben-Hur, \u201cyou were capable of a great sacrifice.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; for love.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas not life other motives as strong?\u201d\n\nSimonides shook his head.\n\n\u201cThere is ambition.\u201d\n\n\u201cAmbition is forbidden a son of Israel.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, then, of revenge?\u201d\n\nThe spark dropped upon the inflammable passion; the man\u2019s eyes gleamed;\nhis hands shook; he answered, quickly, \u201cRevenge is a Jew\u2019s of right; it\nis the law.\u201d\n\n\u201cA camel, even a dog, will remember a wrong,\u201d cried Ilderim.\n\nDirectly Simonides picked up the broken thread of his thought.\n\n\u201cThere is a work, a work for the King, which should be done in advance\nof his coming. We may not doubt that Israel is to be his right hand;\nbut, alas! it is a hand of peace, without cunning in war. Of the\nmillions, there is not one trained band, not a captain. The mercenaries\nof the Herods I do not count, for they are kept to crush us. The\ncondition is as the Roman would have it; his policy has fruited well\nfor his tyranny; but the time of change is at hand, when the shepherd\nshall put on armor, and take to spear and sword, and the feeding flocks\nbe turned to fighting lions. Some one, my son, must have place next the\nKing at his right hand. Who shall it be if not he who does this work\nwell?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s face flushed at the prospect, though he said, \u201cI see; but\nspeak plainly. A deed to be done is one thing; how to do it is\nanother.\u201d\n\nSimonides sipped the wine Esther brought him, and replied,\n\n\u201cThe sheik, and thou, my master, shall be principals, each with a part.\nI will remain here, carrying on as now, and watchful that the spring go\nnot dry. Thou shalt betake thee to Jerusalem, and thence to the\nwilderness, and begin numbering the fighting-men of Israel, and telling\nthem into tens and hundreds, and choosing captains and training them,\nand in secret places hoarding arms, for which I shall keep thee\nsupplied. Commencing over in Perea, thou shalt go then to Galilee,\nwhence it is but a step to Jerusalem. In Perea, the desert will be at\nthy back, and Ilderim in reach of thy hand. He will keep the roads, so\nthat nothing shall pass without thy knowledge. He will help thee in\nmany ways. Until the ripening time no one shall know what is here\ncontracted. Mine is but a servant\u2019s part. I have spoken to Ilderim.\nWhat sayest thou?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked at the sheik.\n\n\u201cIt is as he says, son of Hur,\u201d the Arab responded. \u201cI have given my\nword, and he is content with it; but thou shalt have my oath, binding\nme, and the ready hands of my tribe, and whatever serviceable thing I\nhave.\u201d\n\nThe three\u2014Simonides, Ilderim, Esther\u2014gazed at Ben-Hur fixedly.\n\n\u201cEvery man,\u201d he answered, at first sadly, \u201chas a cup of pleasure poured\nfor him, and soon or late it comes to his hand, and he tastes and\ndrinks\u2014every man but me. I see, Simonides, and thou, O generous\nsheik!\u2014I see whither the proposal tends. If I accept, and enter upon\nthe course, farewell peace, and the hopes which cluster around it. The\ndoors I might enter and the gates of quiet life will shut behind me,\nnever to open again, for Rome keeps them all; and her outlawry will\nfollow me, and her hunters; and in the tombs near cities and the dismal\ncaverns of remotest hills, I must eat my crust and take my rest.\u201d\n\nThe speech was broken by a sob. All turned to Esther, who hid her face\nupon her father\u2019s shoulder.\n\n\u201cI did not think of you, Esther,\u201d said Simonides, gently, for he was\nhimself deeply moved.\n\n\u201cIt is well enough, Simonides,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cA man bears a hard doom\nbetter, knowing there is pity for him. Let me go on.\u201d\n\nThey gave him ear again.\n\n\u201cI was about to say,\u201d he continued, \u201cI have no choice, but take the\npart you assign me; and as remaining here is to meet an ignoble death,\nI will to the work at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall we have writings?\u201d asked Simonides, moved by his habit of\nbusiness.\n\n\u201cI rest upon your word,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d Ilderim answered.\n\nThus simply was effected the treaty which was to alter Ben-Hur\u2019s life.\nAnd almost immediately the latter added,\n\n\u201cIt is done, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay the God of Abraham help us!\u201d Simonides exclaimed.\n\n\u201cOne word now, my friends,\u201d Ben-Hur said, more cheerfully. \u201cBy your\nleave, I will be my own until after the games. It is not probable\nMessala will set peril on foot for me until he has given the procurator\ntime to answer him; and that cannot be in less than seven days from the\ndespatch of his letter. The meeting him in the Circus is a pleasure I\nwould buy at whatever risk.\u201d\n\nIlderim, well pleased, assented readily, and Simonides, intent on\nbusiness, added, \u201cIt is well; for look you, my master, the delay will\ngive me time to do you a good part. I understood you to speak of an\ninheritance derived from Arrius. Is it in property?\u201d\n\n\u201cA villa near Misenum, and houses in Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suggest, then, the sale of the property, and safe deposit of the\nproceeds. Give me an account of it, and I will have authorities drawn,\nand despatch an agent on the mission forthwith. We will forestall the\nimperial robbers at least this once.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall have the account to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, if there be nothing more, the work of the night is done,\u201d said\nSimonides.\n\nIlderim combed his beard complacently, saying, \u201cAnd well done.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe bread and wine again, Esther. Sheik Ilderim will make us happy by\nstaying with us till to-morrow, or at his pleasure; and thou, my\nmaster\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cLet the horses be brought,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cI will return to the\nOrchard. The enemy will not discover me if I go now, and\u201d\u2014he glanced at\nIlderim\u2014\u201cthe four will be glad to see me.\u201d\n\nAs the day dawned, he and Malluch dismounted at the door of the tent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nNext night, about the fourth hour, Ben-Hur stood on the terrace of the\ngreat warehouse with Esther. Below them, on the landing, there was much\nrunning about, and shifting of packages and boxes, and shouting of men,\nwhose figures, stooping, heaving, hauling, looked, in the light of the\ncrackling torches kindled in their aid, like the laboring genii of the\nfantastic Eastern tales. A galley was being laden for instant\ndeparture. Simonides had not yet come from his office, in which, at the\nlast moment, he would deliver to the captain of the vessel instructions\nto proceed without stop to Ostia, the seaport of Rome, and, after\nlanding a passenger there, continue more leisurely to Valentia, on the\ncoast of Spain.\n\nThe passenger is the agent going to dispose of the estate derived from\nArrius the duumvir. When the lines of the vessel are cast off, and she\nis put about, and her voyage begun, Ben-Hur will be committed\nirrevocably to the work undertaken the night before. If he is disposed\nto repent the agreement with Ilderim, a little time is allowed him to\ngive notice and break it off. He is master, and has only to say the\nword.\n\nSuch may have been the thought at the moment in his mind. He was\nstanding with folded arms, looking upon the scene in the manner of a\nman debating with himself. Young, handsome, rich, but recently from the\npatrician circles of Roman society, it is easy to think of the world\nbesetting him with appeals not to give more to onerous duty or ambition\nattended with outlawry and danger. We can even imagine the arguments\nwith which he was pressed; the hopelessness of contention with C\u00e6sar;\nthe uncertainty veiling everything connected with the King and his\ncoming; the ease, honors, state, purchasable like goods in market; and,\nstrongest of all, the sense newly acquired of home, with friends to\nmake it delightful. Only those who have been wanderers long desolate\ncan know the power there was in the latter appeal.\n\nLet us add now, the world\u2014always cunning enough of itself; always\nwhispering to the weak, Stay, take thine ease; always presenting the\nsunny side of life\u2014the world was in this instance helped by Ben-Hur\u2019s\ncompanion.\n\n\u201cWere you ever at Rome?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d Esther replied.\n\n\u201cWould you like to go?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think not.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am afraid of Rome,\u201d she answered, with a perceptible tremor of the\nvoice.\n\nHe looked at her then\u2014or rather down upon her, for at his side she\nappeared little more than a child. In the dim light he could not see\nher face distinctly; even the form was shadowy. But again he was\nreminded of Tirzah, and a sudden tenderness fell upon him\u2014just so the\nlost sister stood with him on the house-top the calamitous morning of\nthe accident to Gratus. Poor Tirzah! Where was she now? Esther had the\nbenefit of the feeling evoked. If not his sister, he could never look\nupon her as his servant; and that she was his servant in fact would\nmake him always the more considerate and gentle towards her.\n\n\u201cI cannot think of Rome,\u201d she continued, recovering her voice, and\nspeaking in her quiet womanly way\u2014\u201cI cannot think of Rome as a city of\npalaces and temples, and crowded with people; she is to me a monster\nwhich has possession of one of the beautiful lands, and lies there\nluring men to ruin and death\u2014a monster which it is not possible to\nresist\u2014a ravenous beast gorging with blood. Why\u2014\u201d\n\nShe faltered, looked down, stopped.\n\n\u201cGo on,\u201d said Ben-Hur, reassuringly.\n\nShe drew closer to him, looked up again, and said, \u201cWhy must you make\nher your enemy? Why not rather make peace with her, and be at rest? You\nhave had many ills, and borne them; you have survived the snares laid\nfor you by foes. Sorrow has consumed your youth; is it well to give it\nthe remainder of your days?\u201d\n\nThe girlish face under his eyes seemed to come nearer and get whiter as\nthe pleading went on; he stooped towards it, and asked, softly, \u201cWhat\nwould you have me do, Esther?\u201d\n\nShe hesitated a moment, then asked, in return, \u201cIs the property near\nRome a residence?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd pretty?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is beautiful\u2014a palace in the midst of gardens and shell-strewn\nwalks; fountains without and within; statuary in the shady nooks; hills\naround covered with vines, and so high that Neapolis and Vesuvius are\nin sight, and the sea an expanse of purpling blue dotted with restless\nsails. C\u00e6sar has a country-seat near-by, but in Rome they say the old\nArrian villa is the prettiest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the life there, is it quiet?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was never a summer day, never a moonlit night, more quiet, save\nwhen visitors come. Now that the old owner is gone, and I am here,\nthere is nothing to break its silence\u2014nothing, unless it be the\nwhispering of servants, or the whistling of happy birds, or the noise\nof fountains at play; it is changeless, except as day by day old\nflowers fade and fall, and new ones bud and bloom, and the sunlight\ngives place to the shadow of a passing cloud. The life, Esther, was all\ntoo quiet for me. It made me restless by keeping always present a\nfeeling that I, who have so much to do, was dropping into idle habits,\nand tying myself with silken chains, and after a while\u2014and not a long\nwhile either\u2014would end with nothing done.\u201d\n\nShe looked off over the river.\n\n\u201cWhy did you ask?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cGood my master\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, Esther\u2014not that. Call me friend\u2014brother, if you will; I am not\nyour master, and will not be. Call me brother.\u201d\n\nHe could not see the flush of pleasure which reddened her face, and the\nglow of the eyes that went out lost in the void above the river.\n\n\u201cI cannot understand,\u201d she said, \u201cthe nature which prefers the life you\nare going to\u2014a life of\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cOf violence, and it may be of blood,\u201d he said, completing the\nsentence.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she added, \u201cthe nature which could prefer that life to such as\nmight be in the beautiful villa.\u201d\n\n\u201cEsther, you mistake. There is no preference. Alas! the Roman is not so\nkind. I am going of necessity. To stay here is to die; and if I go\nthere, the end will be the same\u2014a poisoned cup, a bravo\u2019s blow, or a\njudge\u2019s sentence obtained by perjury. Messala and the procurator Gratus\nare rich with plunder of my father\u2019s estate, and it is more important\nto them to keep their gains now than was their getting in the first\ninstance. A peaceable settlement is out of reach, because of the\nconfession it would imply. And then\u2014then\u2014 Ah, Esther, if I could buy\nthem, I do not know that I would. I do not believe peace possible to\nme; no, not even in the sleepy shade and sweet air of the marble\nporches of the old villa\u2014no matter who might be there to help me bear\nthe burden of the days, nor by what patience of love she made the\neffort. Peace is not possible to me while my people are lost, for I\nmust be watchful to find them. If I find them, and they have suffered\nwrong, shall not the guilty suffer for it? If they are dead by\nviolence, shall the murderers escape? Oh, I could not sleep for dreams!\nNor could the holiest love, by any stratagem, lull me to a rest which\nconscience would not strangle.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it so bad then?\u201d she asked, her voice tremulous with feeling. \u201cCan\nnothing, nothing, be done?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took her hand.\n\n\u201cDo you care so much for me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she answered, simply.\n\nThe hand was warm, and in the palm of his it was lost. He felt it\ntremble. Then the Egyptian came, so the opposite of this little one; so\ntall, so audacious, with a flattery so cunning, a wit so ready, a\nbeauty so wonderful, a manner so bewitching. He carried the hand to his\nlips, and gave it back.\n\n\u201cYou shall be another Tirzah to me, Esther.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is Tirzah?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe little sister the Roman stole from me, and whom I must find before\nI can rest or be happy.\u201d\n\nJust then a gleam of light flashed athwart the terrace and fell upon\nthe two; and, looking round, they saw a servant roll Simonides in his\nchair out of the door. They went to the merchant, and in the after-talk\nhe was principal.\n\nImmediately the lines of the galley were cast off, and she swung round,\nand, midst the flashing of torches and the shouting of joyous sailors,\nhurried off to the sea\u2014leaving Ben-Hur committed to the cause of the\nKING WHO WAS TO COME.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nThe day before the games, in the afternoon, all Ilderim\u2019s racing\nproperty was taken to the city, and put in quarters adjoining the\nCircus. Along with it the good man carried a great deal of property not\nof that class; so with servants, retainers mounted and armed, horses in\nleading, cattle driven, camels laden with baggage, his outgoing from\nthe Orchard was not unlike a tribal migration. The people along the\nroad failed not to laugh at his motley procession; on the other side,\nit was observed that, with all his irascibility, he was not in the\nleast offended by their rudeness. If he was under surveillance, as he\nhad reason to believe, the informer would describe the semi-barbarous\nshow with which he came up to the races. The Romans would laugh; the\ncity would be amused; but what cared he? Next morning the pageant would\nbe far on the road to the desert, and going with it would be every\nmovable thing of value belonging to the Orchard\u2014everything save such as\nwere essential to the success of his four. He was, in fact, started\nhome; his tents were all folded; the dowar was no more; in twelve hours\nall would be out of reach, pursue who might. A man is never safer than\nwhen he is under the laugh; and the shrewd old Arab knew it.\n\nNeither he nor Ben-Hur overestimated the influence of Messala; it was\ntheir opinion, however, that he would not begin active measures against\nthem until after the meeting in the Circus; if defeated there,\nespecially if defeated by Ben-Hur, they might instantly look for the\nworst he could do; he might not even wait for advices from Gratus. With\nthis view, they shaped their course, and were prepared to betake\nthemselves out of harm\u2019s way. They rode together now in good spirits,\ncalmly confident of success on the morrow.\n\nOn the way, they came upon Malluch in waiting for them. The faithful\nfellow gave no sign by which it was possible to infer any knowledge on\nhis part of the relationship so recently admitted between Ben-Hur and\nSimonides, or of the treaty between them and Ilderim. He exchanged\nsalutations as usual, and produced a paper, saying to the sheik, \u201cI\nhave here the notice of the editor of the games, just issued, in which\nyou will find your horses published for the race. You will find in it\nalso the order of exercises. Without waiting, good sheik, I\ncongratulate you upon your victory.\u201d\n\nHe gave the paper over, and, leaving the worthy to master it, turned to\nBen-Hur.\n\n\u201cTo you also, son of Arrius, my congratulations. There is nothing now\nto prevent your meeting Messala. Every condition preliminary to the\nrace is complied with. I have the assurance from the editor himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank you, Malluch,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\nMalluch proceeded:\n\n\u201cYour color is white, and Messala\u2019s mixed scarlet and gold. The good\neffects of the choice are visible already. Boys are now hawking white\nribbons along the streets; tomorrow every Arab and Jew in the city will\nwear them. In the Circus you will see the white fairly divide the\ngalleries with the red.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe galleries\u2014but not the tribunal over the Porta Pompae.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; the scarlet and gold will rule there. But if we win\u201d\u2014Malluch\nchuckled with the pleasure of the thought\u2014\u201cif we win, how the\ndignitaries will tremble! They will bet, of course, according to their\nscorn of everything not Roman\u2014two, three, five to one on Messala,\nbecause he is Roman.\u201d Dropping his voice yet lower, he added, \u201cIt ill\nbecomes a Jew of good standing in the Temple to put his money at such a\nhazard; yet, in confidence, I will have a friend next behind the\nconsul\u2019s seat to accept offers of three to one, or five, or ten\u2014the\nmadness may go to such height. I have put to his order six thousand\nshekels for the purpose.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, Malluch,\u201d said Ben-Hur, \u201ca Roman will wager only in his Roman\ncoin. Suppose you find your friend to-night, and place to his order\nsestertii in such amount as you choose. And look you, Malluch\u2014let him\nbe instructed to seek wagers with Messala and his supporters; Ilderim\u2019s\nfour against Messala\u2019s.\u201d\n\nMalluch reflected a moment.\n\n\u201cThe effect will be to centre interest upon your contest.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very thing I seek, Malluch.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see, I see.\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, Malluch; would you serve me perfectly, help me to fix the public\neye upon our race\u2014Messala\u2019s and mine.\u201d\n\nMalluch spoke quickly\u2014\u201cIt can be done.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen let it be done,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cEnormous wagers offered will answer; if the offers are accepted, all\nthe better.\u201d\n\nMalluch turned his eyes watchfully upon Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cShall I not have back the equivalent of his robbery?\u201d said Ben-Hur,\npartly to himself. \u201cAnother opportunity may not come. And if I could\nbreak him in fortune as well as in pride! Our father Jacob could take\nno offence.\u201d\n\nA look of determined will knit his handsome face, giving emphasis to\nhis further speech.\n\n\u201cYes, it shall be. Hark, Malluch! Stop not in thy offer of sestertii.\nAdvance them to talents, if any there be who dare so high. Five, ten,\ntwenty talents; ay, fifty, so the wager be with Messala himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a mighty sum,\u201d said Malluch. \u201cI must have security.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo thou shalt. Go to Simonides, and tell him I wish the matter\narranged. Tell him my heart is set on the ruin of my enemy, and that\nthe opportunity hath such excellent promise that I choose such hazards.\nOn our side be the God of our fathers. Go, good Malluch. Let this not\nslip.\u201d\n\nAnd Malluch, greatly delighted, gave him parting salutation, and\nstarted to ride away, but returned presently.\n\n\u201cYour pardon,\u201d he said to Ben-Hur. \u201cThere was another matter. I could\nnot get near Messala\u2019s chariot myself, but I had another measure it;\nand, from his report, its hub stands quite a palm higher from the\nground than yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cA palm! So much?\u201d cried Ben-Hur, joyfully.\n\nThen he leaned over to Malluch.\n\n\u201cAs thou art a son of Judah, Malluch, and faithful to thy kin, get thee\na seat in the gallery over the Gate of Triumph, down close to the\nbalcony in front of the pillars, and watch well when we make the turns\nthere; watch well, for if I have favor at all, I will\u2014 Nay, Malluch,\nlet it go unsaid! Only get thee there, and watch well.\u201d\n\nAt that moment a cry burst from Ilderim.\n\n\u201cHa! By the splendor of God! what is this?\u201d\n\nHe drew near Ben-Hur with a finger pointing on the face of the notice.\n\n\u201cRead,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cNo; better thou.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took the paper, which, signed by the prefect of the province as\neditor, performed the office of a modern programme, giving particularly\nthe several divertisements provided for the occasion. It informed the\npublic that there would be first a procession of extraordinary\nsplendor; that the procession would be succeeded by the customary\nhonors to the god Consus, whereupon the games would begin; running,\nleaping, wrestling, boxing, each in the order stated. The names of the\ncompetitors were given, with their several nationalities and schools of\ntraining, the trials in which they had been engaged, the prizes won,\nand the prizes now offered; under the latter head the sums of money\nwere stated in illuminated letters, telling of the departure of the day\nwhen the simple chaplet of pine or laurel was fully enough for the\nvictor, hungering for glory as something better than riches, and\ncontent with it.\n\nOver these parts of the programme Ben-Hur sped with rapid eyes. At last\nhe came to the announcement of the race. He read it slowly. Attending\nlovers of the heroic sports were assured they would certainly be\ngratified by an Orestean struggle unparalleled in Antioch. The city\noffered the spectacle in honor of the consul. One hundred thousand\nsestertii and a crown of laurel were the prizes. Then followed the\nparticulars. The entries were six in all\u2014fours only permitted; and, to\nfurther interest in the performance, the competitors would be turned\ninto the course together. Each four then received description.\n\n\u201cI. A four of Lysippus the Corinthian\u2014two grays, a bay, and a black;\nentered at Alexandria last year, and again at Corinth, where they were\nwinners. Lysippus, driver. Color, yellow.\n\n\u201cII. A four of Messala of Rome\u2014two white, two black; victors of the\nCircensian as exhibited in the Circus Maximus last year. Messala,\ndriver. Colors, scarlet and gold.\n\n\u201cIII. A four of Cleanthes the Athenian\u2014three gray, one bay; winners at\nthe Isthmian last year. Cleanthes, driver. Color, green.\n\n\u201cIV. A four of Dicaeus the Byzantine\u2014two black, one gray, one bay;\nwinners this year at Byzantium. Dicaeus, driver. Color, black.\n\n\u201cV. A four of Admetus the Sidonian\u2014all grays. Thrice entered at\nC\u00e6sarea, and thrice victors. Admetus, driver. Color, blue.\n\n\u201cVI. A four of Ilderim, sheik of the Desert. All bays; first race.\nBen-Hur, a Jew, driver. Color, white.\u201d\n\nBEN-HUR, A JEW, DRIVER!\n\nWhy that name instead of Arrius?\n\nBen-Hur raised his eyes to Ilderim. He had found the cause of the\nArab\u2019s outcry. Both rushed to the same conclusion.\n\nThe hand was the hand of Messala!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nEvening was hardly come upon Antioch, when the Omphalus, nearly in the\ncentre of the city, became a troubled fountain from which in every\ndirection, but chiefly down to the Nymphaeum and east and west along\nthe Colonnade of Herod, flowed currents of people, for the time given\nup to Bacchus and Apollo.\n\nFor such indulgence anything more fitting cannot be imagined than the\ngreat roofed streets, which were literally miles on miles of porticos\nwrought of marble, polished to the last degree of finish, and all gifts\nto the voluptuous city by princes careless of expenditure where, as in\nthis instance, they thought they were eternizing themselves. Darkness\nwas not permitted anywhere; and the singing, the laughter, the\nshouting, were incessant, and in compound like the roar of waters\ndashing through hollow grots, confused by a multitude of echoes.\n\nThe many nationalities represented, though they might have amazed a\nstranger, were not peculiar to Antioch. Of the various missions of the\ngreat empire, one seems to have been the fusion of men and the\nintroduction of strangers to each other; accordingly, whole peoples\nrose up and went at pleasure, taking with them their costumes, customs,\nspeech, and gods; and where they chose, they stopped, engaged in\nbusiness, built houses, erected altars, and were what they had been at\nhome.\n\nThere was a peculiarity, however, which could not have failed the\nnotice of a looker-on this night in Antioch. Nearly everybody wore the\ncolors of one or other of the charioteers announced for the morrow\u2019s\nrace. Sometimes it was in form of a scarf, sometimes a badge; often a\nribbon or a feather. Whatever the form, it signified merely the\nwearer\u2019s partiality; thus, green published a friend of Cleanthes the\nAthenian, and black an adherent of the Byzantine. This was according to\na custom, old probably as the day of the race of Orestes\u2014a custom, by\nthe way, worthy of study as a marvel of history, illustrative of the\nabsurd yet appalling extremities to which men frequently suffer their\nfollies to drag them.\n\nThe observer abroad on this occasion, once attracted to the wearing of\ncolors, would have very shortly decided that there were three in\npredominance\u2014green, white, and the mixed scarlet and gold.\n\nBut let us from the streets to the palace on the island.\n\nThe five great chandeliers in the saloon are freshly lighted. The\nassemblage is much the same as that already noticed in connection with\nthe place. The divan has its corps of sleepers and burden of garments,\nand the tables yet resound with the rattle and clash of dice. Yet the\ngreater part of the company are not doing anything. They walk about, or\nyawn tremendously, or pause as they pass each other to exchange idle\nnothings. Will the weather be fair to-morrow? Are the preparations for\nthe games complete? Do the laws of the Circus in Antioch differ from\nthe laws of the Circus in Rome? Truth is, the young fellows are\nsuffering from ennui. Their heavy work is done; that is, we would find\ntheir tablets, could we look at them, covered with memoranda of\nwagers\u2014wagers on every contest; on the running, the wrestling, the\nboxing; on everything but the chariot-race.\n\nAnd why not on that?\n\nGood reader, they cannot find anybody who will hazard so much as a\ndenarius with them against Messala.\n\nThere are no colors in the saloon but his.\n\nNo one thinks of his defeat.\n\nWhy, they say, is he not perfect in his training? Did he not graduate\nfrom an imperial lanista? Were not his horses winners at the Circensian\nin the Circus Maximus? And then\u2014ah, yes! he is a Roman!\n\nIn a corner, at ease on the divan, Messala himself may be seen. Around\nhim, sitting or standing, are his courtierly admirers, plying him with\nquestions. There is, of course, but one topic.\n\nEnter Drusus and Cecilius.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d cries the young prince, throwing himself on the divan at\nMessala\u2019s feet, \u201cAh, by Bacchus, I am tired!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhither away?\u201d asks Messala.\n\n\u201cUp the street; up to the Omphalus, and beyond\u2014who shall say how far?\nRivers of people; never so many in the city before. They say we will\nsee the whole world at the Circus to-morrow.\u201d\n\nMessala laughed scornfully.\n\n\u201cThe idiots! Perpol! They never beheld a Circensian with C\u00e6sar for\neditor. But, my Drusus, what found you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cO\u2014ah! You forget,\u201d said Cecilius.\n\n\u201cWhat?\u201d asked Drusus.\n\n\u201cThe procession of whites.\u201d\n\n\u201cMirabile!\u201d cried Drusus, half rising. \u201cWe met a faction of whites, and\nthey had a banner. But\u2014ha, ha, ha!\u201d\n\nHe fell back indolently.\n\n\u201cCruel Drusus\u2014not to go on,\u201d said Messala.\n\n\u201cScum of the desert were they, my Messala, and garbage-eaters from the\nJacob\u2019s Temple in Jerusalem. What had I to do with them!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Cecilius, \u201cDrusus is afraid of a laugh, but I am not, my\nMessala.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak thou, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, we stopped the faction, and\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cOffered them a wager,\u201d said Drusus, relenting, and taking the word\nfrom the shadow\u2019s mouth. \u201cAnd\u2014ha, ha, ha!\u2014one fellow with not enough\nskin on his face to make a worm for a carp stepped forth, and\u2014ha, ha,\nha!\u2014said yes. I drew my tablets. \u2018Who is your man?\u2019 I asked. \u2018Ben-Hur,\nthe Jew,\u2019 said he. Then I: \u2018What shall it be? How much?\u2019 He answered,\n\u2018A\u2014a\u2014\u2019 Excuse me, Messala. By Jove\u2019s thunder, I cannot go on for\nlaughter! Ha, ha, ha!\u201d\n\nThe listeners leaned forward.\n\nMessala looked to Cecilius.\n\n\u201cA shekel,\u201d said the latter.\n\n\u201cA shekel! A shekel!\u201d\n\nA burst of scornful laughter ran fast upon the repetition.\n\n\u201cAnd what did Drusus?\u201d asked Messala.\n\nAn outcry over about the door just then occasioned a rush to that\nquarter; and, as the noise there continued, and grew louder, even\nCecilius betook himself off, pausing only to say, \u201cThe noble Drusus, my\nMessala, put up his tablets and\u2014lost the shekel.\u201d\n\n\u201cA white! A white!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him come!\u201d\n\n\u201cThis way, this way!\u201d\n\nThese and like exclamations filled the saloon, to the stoppage of other\nspeech. The dice-players quit their games; the sleepers awoke, rubbed\ntheir eyes, drew their tablets, and hurried to the common centre.\n\n\u201cI offer you\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2014\u201d\n\nThe person so warmly received was the respectable Jew, Ben-Hur\u2019s\nfellow-voyager from Cyprus. He entered grave, quiet, observant. His\nrobe was spotlessly white; so was the cloth of his turban. Bowing and\nsmiling at the welcome, he moved slowly towards the central table.\nArrived there, he drew his robe about him in a stately manner, took\nseat, and waved his hand. The gleam of a jewel on a finger helped him\nnot a little to the silence which ensued.\n\n\u201cRomans\u2014most noble Romans\u2014I salute you!\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cEasy, by Jupiter! Who is he?\u201d asked Drusus.\n\n\u201cA dog of Israel\u2014Sanballat by name\u2014purveyor for the army; residence,\nRome; vastly rich; grown so as a contractor of furnishments which he\nnever furnishes. He spins mischiefs, nevertheless, finer than spiders\nspin their webs. Come\u2014by the girdle of Venus! let us catch him!\u201d\n\nMessala arose as he spoke, and, with Drusus, joined the mass crowded\nabout the purveyor.\n\n\u201cIt came to me on the street,\u201d said that person, producing his tablets,\nand opening them on the table with an impressive air of business, \u201cthat\nthere was great discomfort in the palace because offers on Messala were\ngoing without takers. The gods, you know, must have sacrifices; and\nhere am I. You see my color; let us to the matter. Odds first, amounts\nnext. What will you give me?\u201d\n\nThe audacity seemed to stun his hearers.\n\n\u201cHaste!\u201d he said. \u201cI have an engagement with the consul.\u201d\n\nThe spur was effective.\n\n\u201cTwo to one,\u201d cried half a dozen in a voice.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d exclaimed the purveyor, astonished. \u201cOnly two to one, and yours\na Roman!\u201d\n\n\u201cTake three, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cThree say you\u2014only three\u2014and mine but a dog of a Jew! Give me four.\u201d\n\n\u201cFour it is,\u201d said a boy, stung by the taunt.\n\n\u201cFive\u2014give me five,\u201d cried the purveyor, instantly.\n\nA profound stillness fell upon the assemblage.\n\n\u201cThe consul\u2014your master and mine\u2014is waiting for me.\u201d\n\nThe inaction became awkward to the many.\n\n\u201cGive me five\u2014for the honor of Rome, five.\u201d\n\n\u201cFive let it be,\u201d said one in answer.\n\nThere was a sharp cheer\u2014a commotion\u2014and Messala himself appeared.\n\n\u201cFive let it be,\u201d he said.\n\nAnd Sanballat smiled, and made ready to write.\n\n\u201cIf C\u00e6sar die to-morrow,\u201d he said, \u201cRome will not be all bereft. There\nis at least one other with spirit to take his place. Give me six.\u201d\n\n\u201cSix be it,\u201d answered Messala.\n\nThere was another shout louder than the first.\n\n\u201cSix be it,\u201d repeated Messala. \u201cSix to one\u2014the difference between a\nRoman and a Jew. And, having found it, now, O redemptor of the flesh of\nswine, let us on. The amount\u2014and quickly. The consul may send for thee,\nand I will then be bereft.\u201d\n\nSanballat took the laugh against him coolly, and wrote, and offered the\nwriting to Messala.\n\n\u201cRead, read!\u201d everybody demanded.\n\nAnd Messala read:\n\n\u201cMem.\u2014Chariot-race. Messala of Rome, in wager with Sanballat, also of\nRome, says he will beat Ben-Hur, the Jew. Amount of wager, twenty\ntalents. Odds to Sanballat, six to one.\n\n\u201cWitnesses: SANBALLAT.\u201d\n\nThere was no noise, no motion. Each person seemed held in the pose the\nreading found him. Messala stared at the memorandum, while the eyes\nwhich had him in view opened wide, and stared at him. He felt the gaze,\nand thought rapidly. So lately he stood in the same place, and in the\nsame way hectored the countrymen around him. They would remember it. If\nhe refused to sign, his hero-ship was lost. And sign he could not; he\nwas not worth one hundred talents, nor the fifth part of the sum.\nSuddenly his mind became a blank; he stood speechless; the color fled\nhis face. An idea at last came to his relief.\n\n\u201cThou Jew!\u201d he said, \u201cwhere hast thou twenty talents? Show me.\u201d\n\nSanballat\u2019s provoking smile deepened.\n\n\u201cThere,\u201d he replied, offering Messala a paper.\n\n\u201cRead, read!\u201d arose all around.\n\nAgain Messala read:\n\n\u201cAT ANTIOCH, Tammuz 16th day.\n\n\u201cThe bearer, Sanballat of Rome, hath now to his order with me fifty\ntalents, coin of C\u00e6sar.\n\nSIMONIDES.\u201d\n\n\u201cFifty talents, fifty talents!\u201d echoed the throng, in amazement.\n\nThen Drusus came to the rescue.\n\n\u201cBy Hercules!\u201d he shouted, \u201cthe paper lies, and the Jew is a liar. Who\nbut C\u00e6sar hath fifty talents at order? Down with the insolent white!\u201d\n\nThe cry was angry, and it was angrily repeated; yet Sanballat kept his\nseat, and his smile grew more exasperating the longer he waited. At\nlength Messala spoke.\n\n\u201cHush! One to one, my countrymen\u2014one to one, for love of our ancient\nRoman name.\u201d\n\nThe timely action recovered him his ascendancy.\n\n\u201cO thou circumcised dog!\u201d he continued, to Sanballat, \u201cI gave thee six\nto one, did I not?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the Jew, quietly.\n\n\u201cWell, give me now the fixing of the amount.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith reserve, if the amount be trifling, have thy will,\u201d answered\nSanballat.\n\n\u201cWrite, then, five in place of twenty.\u201d\n\n\u201cHast thou so much?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the mother of the gods, I will show you receipts.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, the word of so brave a Roman must pass. Only make the sum\neven\u2014six make it, and I will write.\u201d\n\n\u201cWrite it so.\u201d\n\nAnd forthwith they exchanged writings.\n\nSanballat immediately arose and looked around him, a sneer in place of\nhis smile. No man better than he knew those with whom he was dealing.\n\n\u201cRomans,\u201d he said, \u201canother wager, if you dare! Five talents against\nfive talents that the white will win. I challenge you collectively.\u201d\n\nThey were again surprised.\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d he cried, louder. \u201cShall it be said in the Circus to-morrow\nthat a dog of Israel went into the saloon of the palace full of Roman\nnobles\u2014among them the scion of a C\u00e6sar\u2014and laid five talents before\nthem in challenge, and they had not the courage to take it up?\u201d\n\nThe sting was unendurable.\n\n\u201cHave done, O insolent!\u201d said Drusus, \u201cwrite the challenge, and leave\nit on the table; and to-morrow, if we find thou hast indeed so much\nmoney to put at such hopeless hazard, I, Drusus, promise it shall be\ntaken.\u201d\n\nSanballat wrote again, and, rising, said, unmoved as ever, \u201cSee,\nDrusus, I leave the offer with you. When it is signed, send it to me\nany time before the race begins. I will be found with the consul in a\nseat over the Porta Pompae. Peace to you; peace to all.\u201d\n\nHe bowed, and departed, careless of the shout of derision with which\nthey pursued him out of the door.\n\nIn the night the story of the prodigious wager flew along the streets\nand over the city; and Ben-Hur, lying with his four, was told of it,\nand also that Messala\u2019s whole fortune was on the hazard.\n\nAnd he slept never so soundly.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nThe Circus at Antioch stood on the south bank of the river, nearly\nopposite the island, differing in no respect from the plan of such\nbuildings in general.\n\nIn the purest sense, the games were a gift to the public; consequently,\neverybody was free to attend; and, vast as the holding capacity of the\nstructure was, so fearful were the people, on this occasion, lest there\nshould not be room for them, that, early the day before the opening of\nthe exhibition, they took up all the vacant spaces in the vicinity,\nwhere their temporary shelter suggested an army in waiting.\n\nAt midnight the entrances were thrown wide, and the rabble, surging in,\noccupied the quarters assigned to them, from which nothing less than an\nearthquake or an army with spears could have dislodged them. They dozed\nthe night away on the benches, and breakfasted there; and there the\nclose of the exercises found them, patient and sight-hungry as in the\nbeginning.\n\nThe better people, their seats secured, began moving towards the Circus\nabout the first hour of the morning, the noble and very rich among them\ndistinguished by litters and retinues of liveried servants.\n\nBy the second hour, the efflux from the city was a stream unbroken and\ninnumerable.\n\nExactly as the gnomon of the official dial up in the citadel pointed\nthe second hour half gone, the legion, in full panoply, and with all\nits standards on exhibit, descended from Mount Sulpius; and when the\nrear of the last cohort disappeared in the bridge, Antioch was\nliterally abandoned\u2014not that the Circus could hold the multitude, but\nthat the multitude was gone out to it, nevertheless.\n\nA great concourse on the river shore witnessed the consul come over\nfrom the island in a barge of state. As the great man landed, and was\nreceived by the legion, the martial show for one brief moment\ntranscended the attraction of the Circus.\n\nAt the third hour, the audience, if such it may be termed, was\nassembled; at last, a flourish of trumpets called for silence, and\ninstantly the gaze of over a hundred thousand persons was directed\ntowards a pile forming the eastern section of the building.\n\nThere was a basement first, broken in the middle by a broad arched\npassage, called the Porta Pompae, over which, on an elevated tribunal\nmagnificently decorated with insignia and legionary standards, the\nconsul sat in the place of honor. On both sides of the passage the\nbasement was divided into stalls termed carceres, each protected in\nfront by massive gates swung to statuesque pilasters. Over the stalls\nnext was a cornice crowned by a low balustrade; back of which the seats\narose in theatre arrangement, all occupied by a throng of dignitaries\nsuperbly attired. The pile extended the width of the Circus, and was\nflanked on both sides by towers which, besides helping the architects\ngive grace to their work, served the velaria, or purple awnings,\nstretched between them so as to throw the whole quarter in a shade that\nbecame exceedingly grateful as the day advanced.\n\nThis structure, it is now thought, can be made useful in helping the\nreader to a sufficient understanding of the arrangement of the rest of\nthe interior of the Circus. He has only to fancy himself seated on the\ntribunal with the consul, facing to the west, where everything is under\nhis eye.\n\nOn the right and left, if he will look, he will see the main entrances,\nvery ample, and guarded by gates hinged to the towers.\n\nDirectly below him is the arena\u2014a level plane of considerable extent,\ncovered with fine white sand. There all the trials will take place\nexcept the running.\n\nLooking across this sanded arena westwardly still, there is a pedestal\nof marble supporting three low conical pillars of gray stone, much\ncarven. Many an eye will hunt for those pillars before the day is done,\nfor they are the first goal, and mark the beginning and end of the\nrace-course. Behind the pedestal, leaving a passage-way and space for\nan altar, commences a wall ten or twelve feet in breadth and five or\nsix in height, extending thence exactly two hundred yards, or one\nOlympic stadium. At the farther, or westward, extremity of the wall\nthere is another pedestal, surmounted with pillars which mark the\nsecond goal.\n\nThe racers will enter the course on the right of the first goal, and\nkeep the wall all the time to their left. The beginning and ending\npoints of the contest lie, consequently, directly in front of the\nconsul across the arena; and for that reason his seat was admittedly\nthe most desirable in the Circus.\n\nNow if the reader, who is still supposed to be seated on the consular\ntribunal over the Porta Pompae, will look up from the ground\narrangement of the interior, the first point to attract his notice will\nbe the marking of the outer boundary-line of the course\u2014that is, a\nplain-faced, solid wall, fifteen or twenty feet in height, with a\nbalustrade on its cope, like that over the carceres, or stalls, in the\neast. This balcony, if followed round the course, will be found broken\nin three places to allow passages of exit and entrance, two in the\nnorth and one in the west; the latter very ornate, and called the Gate\nof Triumph, because, when all is over, the victors will pass out that\nway, crowned, and with triumphal escort and ceremonies.\n\nAt the west end the balcony encloses the course in the form of a half\ncircle, and is made to uphold two great galleries.\n\nDirectly behind the balustrade on the coping of the balcony is the\nfirst seat, from which ascend the succeeding benches, each higher than\nthe one in front of it; giving to view a spectacle of surpassing\ninterest\u2014the spectacle of a vast space ruddy and glistening with human\nfaces, and rich with varicolored costumes.\n\nThe commonalty occupy quarters over in the west, beginning at the point\nof termination of an awning, stretched, it would seem, for the\naccommodation of the better classes exclusively.\n\nHaving thus the whole interior of the Circus under view at the moment\nof the sounding of the trumpets, let the reader next imagine the\nmultitude seated and sunk to sudden silence, and motionless in its\nintensity of interest.\n\nOut of the Porta Pompae over in the east rises a sound mixed of voices\nand instruments harmonized. Presently, forth issues the chorus of the\nprocession with which the celebration begins; the editor and civic\nauthorities of the city, givers of the games, follow in robes and\ngarlands; then the gods, some on platforms borne by men, others in\ngreat four-wheel carriages gorgeously decorated; next them, again, the\ncontestants of the day, each in costume exactly as he will run,\nwrestle, leap, box, or drive.\n\nSlowly crossing the arena, the procession proceeds to make circuit of\nthe course. The display is beautiful and imposing. Approval runs before\nit in a shout, as the water rises and swells in front of a boat in\nmotion. If the dumb, figured gods make no sign of appreciation of the\nwelcome, the editor and his associates are not so backward.\n\nThe reception of the athletes is even more demonstrative, for there is\nnot a man in the assemblage who has not something in wager upon them,\nthough but a mite or farthing. And it is noticeable, as the classes\nmove by, that the favorites among them are speedily singled out: either\ntheir names are loudest in the uproar, or they are more profusely\nshowered with wreaths and garlands tossed to them from the balcony.\n\nIf there is a question as to the popularity with the public of the\nseveral games, it is now put to rest. To the splendor of the chariots\nand the superexcellent beauty of the horses, the charioteers add the\npersonality necessary to perfect the charm of their display. Their\ntunics, short, sleeveless, and of the finest woollen texture, are of\nthe assigned colors. A horseman accompanies each one of them except\nBen-Hur, who, for some reason\u2014possibly distrust\u2014has chosen to go alone;\nso, too, they are all helmeted but him. As they approach, the\nspectators stand upon the benches, and there is a sensible deepening of\nthe clamor, in which a sharp listener may detect the shrill piping of\nwomen and children; at the same time, the things roseate flying from\nthe balcony thicken into a storm, and, striking the men, drop into the\nchariot-beds, which are threatened with filling to the tops. Even the\nhorses have a share in the ovation; nor may it be said they are less\nconscious than their masters of the honors they receive.\n\nVery soon, as with the other contestants, it is made apparent that some\nof the drivers are more in favor than others; and then the discovery\nfollows that nearly every individual on the benches, women and children\nas well as men, wears a color, most frequently a ribbon upon the breast\nor in the hair: now it is green, now yellow, now blue; but, searching\nthe great body carefully, it is manifest that there is a preponderance\nof white, and scarlet and gold.\n\nIn a modern assemblage called together as this one is, particularly\nwhere there are sums at hazard upon the race, a preference would be\ndecided by the qualities or performance of the horses; here, however,\nnationality was the rule. If the Byzantine and Sidonian found small\nsupport, it was because their cities were scarcely represented on the\nbenches. On their side, the Greeks, though very numerous, were divided\nbetween the Corinthian and the Athenian, leaving but a scant showing of\ngreen and yellow. Messala\u2019s scarlet and gold would have been but little\nbetter had not the citizens of Antioch, proverbially a race of\ncourtiers, joined the Romans by adopting the color of their favorite.\nThere were left then the country people, or Syrians, the Jews, and the\nArabs; and they, from faith in the blood of the sheik\u2019s four, blent\nlargely with hate of the Romans, whom they desired, above all things,\nto see beaten and humbled, mounted the white, making the most noisy,\nand probably the most numerous, faction of all.\n\nAs the charioteers move on in the circuit, the excitement increases; at\nthe second goal, where, especially in the galleries, the white is the\nruling color, the people exhaust their flowers and rive the air with\nscreams.\n\n\u201cMessala! Messala!\u201d\n\n\u201cBen-Hur! Ben-Hur!\u201d\n\nSuch are the cries.\n\nUpon the passage of the procession, the factionists take their seats\nand resume conversation.\n\n\u201cAh, by Bacchus! was he not handsome?\u201d exclaims a woman, whose Romanism\nis betrayed by the colors flying in her hair.\n\n\u201cAnd how splendid his chariot!\u201d replies a neighbor, of the same\nproclivities. \u201cIt is all ivory and gold. Jupiter grant he wins!\u201d\n\nThe notes on the bench behind them were entirely different.\n\n\u201cA hundred shekels on the Jew!\u201d\n\nThe voice is high and shrill.\n\n\u201cNay, be thou not rash,\u201d whispers a moderating friend to the speaker.\n\u201cThe children of Jacob are not much given to Gentile sports, which are\ntoo often accursed in the sight of the Lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, but saw you ever one more cool and assured? And what an arm he\nhas!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what horses!\u201d says a third.\n\n\u201cAnd for that,\u201d a fourth one adds, \u201cthey say he has all the tricks of\nthe Romans.\u201d\n\nA woman completes the eulogium:\n\n\u201cYes, and he is even handsomer than the Roman.\u201d\n\nThus encouraged, the enthusiast shrieks again, \u201cA hundred shekels on\nthe Jew!\u201d\n\n\u201cThou fool!\u201d answers an Antiochian, from a bench well forward on the\nbalcony. \u201cKnowest thou not there are fifty talents laid against him,\nsix to one, on Messala? Put up thy shekels, lest Abraham rise and smite\nthee.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa, ha! thou ass of Antioch! Cease thy bray. Knowest thou not it was\nMessala betting on himself?\u201d\n\nSuch the reply.\n\nAnd so ran the controversy, not always good-natured.\n\nWhen at length the march was ended and the Porta Pompae received back\nthe procession, Ben-Hur knew he had his prayer.\n\nThe eyes of the East were upon his contest with Messala.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\nAbout three o\u2019clock, speaking in modern style, the program was\nconcluded except the chariot-race. The editor, wisely considerate of\nthe comfort of the people, chose that time for a recess. At once the\nvomitoria were thrown open, and all who could hastened to the portico\noutside where the restaurateurs had their quarters. Those who remained\nyawned, talked, gossiped, consulted their tablets, and, all\ndistinctions else forgotten, merged into but two classes\u2014the winners,\nwho were happy, and the losers, who were grum and captious.\n\nNow, however, a third class of spectators, composed of citizens who\ndesired only to witness the chariot-race, availed themselves of the\nrecess to come in and take their reserved seats; by so doing they\nthought to attract the least attention and give the least offence.\nAmong these were Simonides and his party, whose places were in the\nvicinity of the main entrance on the north side, opposite the consul.\n\nAs the four stout servants carried the merchant in his chair up the\naisle, curiosity was much excited. Presently some one called his name.\nThose about caught it and passed it on along the benches to the west;\nand there was hurried climbing on seats to get sight of the man about\nwhom common report had coined and put in circulation a romance so mixed\nof good fortune and bad that the like had never been known or heard of\nbefore.\n\nIlderim was also recognized and warmly greeted; but nobody knew\nBalthasar or the two women who followed him closely veiled.\n\nThe people made way for the party respectfully, and the ushers seated\nthem in easy speaking distance of each other down by the balustrade\noverlooking the arena. In providence of comfort, they sat upon cushions\nand had stools for footrests.\n\nThe women were Iras and Esther.\n\nUpon being seated, the latter cast a frightened look over the Circus,\nand drew the veil closer about her face; while the Egyptian, letting\nher veil fall upon her shoulders, gave herself to view, and gazed at\nthe scene with the seeming unconsciousness of being stared at, which,\nin a woman, is usually the result of long social habitude.\n\nThe new-comers generally were yet making their first examination of the\ngreat spectacle, beginning with the consul and his attendants, when\nsome workmen ran in and commenced to stretch a chalked rope across the\narena from balcony to balcony in front of the pillars of the first\ngoal.\n\nAbout the same time, also, six men came in through the Porta Pompae and\ntook post, one in front of each occupied stall; whereat there was a\nprolonged hum of voices in every quarter.\n\n\u201cSee, see! The green goes to number four on the right; the Athenian is\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Messala\u2014yes, he is in number two.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Corinthian\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWatch the white! See, he crosses over, he stops; number one it\nis\u2014number one on the left.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, the black stops there, and the white at number two.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it is.\u201d\n\nThese gate-keepers, it should be understood, were dressed in tunics\ncolored like those of the competing charioteers; so, when they took\ntheir stations, everybody knew the particular stall in which his\nfavorite was that moment waiting.\n\n\u201cDid you ever see Messala?\u201d the Egyptian asked Esther.\n\nThe Jewess shuddered as she answered no. If not her father\u2019s enemy, the\nRoman was Ben-Hur\u2019s.\n\n\u201cHe is beautiful as Apollo.\u201d\n\nAs Iras spoke, her large eyes brightened and she shook her jeweled fan.\nEsther looked at her with the thought, \u201cIs he, then, so much handsomer\nthan Ben-Hur?\u201d Next moment she heard Ilderim say to her father, \u201cYes,\nhis stall is number two on the left of the Porta Pompae;\u201d and, thinking\nit was of Ben-Hur he spoke, her eyes turned that way. Taking but the\nbriefest glance at the wattled face of the gate, she drew the veil\nclose and muttered a little prayer.\n\nPresently Sanballat came to the party.\n\n\u201cI am just from the stalls, O sheik,\u201d he said, bowing gravely to\nIlderim, who began combing his beard, while his eyes glittered with\neager inquiry. \u201cThe horses are in perfect condition.\u201d\n\nIlderim replied simply, \u201cIf they are beaten, I pray it be by some other\nthan Messala.\u201d\n\nTurning then to Simonides, Sanballat drew out a tablet, saying, \u201cI\nbring you also something of interest. I reported, you will remember,\nthe wager concluded with Messala last night, and stated that I left\nanother which, if taken, was to be delivered to me in writing to-day\nbefore the race began. Here it is.\u201d\n\nSimonides took the tablet and read the memorandum carefully.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said, \u201ctheir emissary came to ask me if you had so much money\nwith me. Keep the tablet close. If you lose, you know where to come; if\nyou win\u201d\u2014his face knit hard\u2014\u201cif you win\u2014ah, friend, see to it! See the\nsigners escape not; hold them to the last shekel. That is what they\nwould with us.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrust me,\u201d replied the purveyor.\n\n\u201cWill you not sit with us?\u201d asked Simonides.\n\n\u201cYou are very good,\u201d the other returned; \u201cbut if I leave the consul,\nyoung Rome yonder will boil over. Peace to you; peace to all.\u201d\n\nAt length the recess came to an end.\n\nThe trumpeters blew a call at which the absentees rushed back to their\nplaces. At the same time, some attendants appeared in the arena, and,\nclimbing upon the division wall, went to an entablature near the second\ngoal at the west end, and placed upon it seven wooden balls; then\nreturning to the first goal, upon an entablature there they set up\nseven other pieces of wood hewn to represent dolphins.\n\n\u201cWhat shall they do with the balls and fishes, O sheik?\u201d asked\nBalthasar.\n\n\u201cHast thou never attended a race?\u201d\n\n\u201cNever before; and hardly know I why I am here.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, they are to keep the count. At the end of each round run thou\nshalt see one ball and one fish taken down.\u201d\n\nThe preparations were now complete, and presently a trumpeter in gaudy\nuniform arose by the editor, ready to blow the signal of commencement\npromptly at his order. Straightway the stir of the people and the hum\nof their conversation died away. Every face near-by, and every face in\nthe lessening perspective, turned to the east, as all eyes settled upon\nthe gates of the six stalls which shut in the competitors.\n\nThe unusual flush upon his face gave proof that even Simonides had\ncaught the universal excitement. Ilderim pulled his beard fast and\nfurious.\n\n\u201cLook now for the Roman,\u201d said the fair Egyptian to Esther, who did not\nhear her, for, with close-drawn veil and beating heart, she sat\nwatching for Ben-Hur.\n\nThe structure containing the stalls, it should be observed, was in form\nof the segment of a circle, retired on the right so that its central\npoint was projected forward, and midway the course, on the starting\nside of the first goal. Every stall, consequently, was equally distant\nfrom the starting-line or chalked rope above mentioned.\n\nThe trumpet sounded short and sharp; whereupon the starters, one for\neach chariot, leaped down from behind the pillars of the goal, ready to\ngive assistance if any of the fours proved unmanageable.\n\nAgain the trumpet blew, and simultaneously the gate-keepers threw the\nstalls open.\n\nFirst appeared the mounted attendants of the charioteers, five in all,\nBen-Hur having rejected the service. The chalked line was lowered to\nlet them pass, then raised again. They were beautifully mounted, yet\nscarcely observed as they rode forward; for all the time the trampling\nof eager horses, and the voices of drivers scarcely less eager, were\nheard behind in the stalls, so that one might not look away an instant\nfrom the gaping doors.\n\nThe chalked line up again, the gate-keepers called their men; instantly\nthe ushers on the balcony waved their hands, and shouted with all their\nstrength, \u201cDown! down!\u201d\n\nAs well have whistled to stay a storm.\n\nForth from each stall, like missiles in a volley from so many great\nguns, rushed the six fours; and up the vast assemblage arose,\nelectrified and irrepressible, and, leaping upon the benches, filled\nthe Circus and the air above it with yells and screams. This was the\ntime for which they had so patiently waited!\u2014this the moment of supreme\ninterest treasured up in talk and dreams since the proclamation of the\ngames!\n\n\u201cHe is come\u2014there\u2014look!\u201d cried Iras, pointing to Messala.\n\n\u201cI see him,\u201d answered Esther, looking at Ben-Hur.\n\nThe veil was withdrawn. For an instant the little Jewess was brave. An\nidea of the joy there is in doing an heroic deed under the eyes of a\nmultitude came to her, and she understood ever after how, at such\ntimes, the souls of men, in the frenzy of performance, laugh at death\nor forget it utterly.\n\nThe competitors were now under view from nearly every part of the\nCircus, yet the race was not begun; they had first to make the chalked\nline successfully.\n\nThe line was stretched for the purpose of equalizing the start. If it\nwere dashed upon, discomfiture of man and horses might be apprehended;\non the other hand, to approach it timidly was to incur the hazard of\nbeing thrown behind in the beginning of the race; and that was certain\nforfeit of the great advantage always striven for\u2014the position next the\ndivision wall on the inner line of the course.\n\nThis trial, its perils and consequences, the spectators knew\nthoroughly; and if the opinion of old Nestor, uttered that time he\nhanded the reins to his son, were true\u2014\n\n\u201cIt is not strength, but art, obtained the prize,\nAnd to be swift is less than to be wise\u201d\u2014\n\n\nall on the benches might well look for warning of the winner to be now\ngiven, justifying the interest with which they breathlessly watched for\nthe result.\n\nThe arena swam in a dazzle of light; yet each driver looked first thing\nfor the rope, then for the coveted inner line. So, all six aiming at\nthe same point and speeding furiously, a collision seemed inevitable;\nnor that merely. What if the editor, at the last moment, dissatisfied\nwith the start, should withhold the signal to drop the rope? Or if he\nshould not give it in time?\n\nThe crossing was about two hundred and fifty feet in width. Quick the\neye, steady the hand, unerring the judgment required. If now one look\naway! or his mind wander! or a rein slip! And what attraction in the\nensemble of the thousands over the spreading balcony! Calculating upon\nthe natural impulse to give one glance\u2014just one\u2014in sooth of curiosity\nor vanity, malice might be there with an artifice; while friendship and\nlove, did they serve the same result, might be as deadly as malice.\n\nThe divine last touch in perfecting the beautiful is animation. Can we\naccept the saying, then these latter days, so tame in pastime and dull\nin sports, have scarcely anything to compare to the spectacle offered\nby the six contestants. Let the reader try to fancy it; let him first\nlook down upon the arena, and see it glistening in its frame of\ndull-gray granite walls; let him then, in this perfect field, see the\nchariots, light of wheel, very graceful, and ornate as paint and\nburnishing can make them\u2014Messala\u2019s rich with ivory and gold; let him\nsee the drivers, erect and statuesque, undisturbed by the motion of the\ncars, their limbs naked, and fresh and ruddy with the healthful polish\nof the baths\u2014in their right hands goads, suggestive of torture dreadful\nto the thought\u2014in their left hands, held in careful separation, and\nhigh, that they may not interfere with view of the steeds, the reins\npassing taut from the fore ends of the carriage-poles; let him see the\nfours, chosen for beauty as well as speed; let him see them in\nmagnificent action, their masters not more conscious of the situation\nand all that is asked and hoped from them\u2014their heads tossing, nostrils\nin play, now distent, now contracted\u2014limbs too dainty for the sand\nwhich they touch but to spurn\u2014limbs slender, yet with impact crushing\nas hammers\u2014every muscle of the rounded bodies instinct with glorious\nlife, swelling, diminishing, justifying the world in taking from them\nits ultimate measure of force; finally, along with chariots, drivers,\nhorses, let the reader see the accompanying shadows fly; and, with such\ndistinctness as the picture comes, he may share the satisfaction and\ndeeper pleasure of those to whom it was a thrilling fact, not a feeble\nfancy. Every age has its plenty of sorrows; Heaven help where there are\nno pleasures!\n\nThe competitors having started each on the shortest line for the\nposition next the wall, yielding would be like giving up the race; and\nwho dared yield? It is not in common nature to change a purpose in\nmid-career; and the cries of encouragement from the balcony were\nindistinguishable and indescribable: a roar which had the same effect\nupon all the drivers.\n\nThe fours neared the rope together. Then the trumpeter by the editor\u2019s\nside blew a signal vigorously. Twenty feet away it was not heard.\nSeeing the action, however, the judges dropped the rope, and not an\ninstant too soon, for the hoof of one of Messala\u2019s horses struck it as\nit fell. Nothing daunted, the Roman shook out his long lash, loosed the\nreins, leaned forward, and, with a triumphant shout, took the wall.\n\n\u201cJove with us! Jove with us!\u201d yelled all the Roman faction, in a frenzy\nof delight.\n\nAs Messala turned in, the bronze lion\u2019s head at the end of his axle\ncaught the fore-leg of the Athenian\u2019s right-hand trace-mate, flinging\nthe brute over against its yoke-fellow. Both staggered, struggled, and\nlost their headway. The ushers had their will at least in part. The\nthousands held their breath with horror; only up where the consul sat\nwas there shouting.\n\n\u201cJove with us!\u201d screamed Drusus, frantically.\n\n\u201cHe wins! Jove with us!\u201d answered his associates, seeing Messala speed\non.\n\nTablet in hand, Sanballat turned to them; a crash from the course below\nstopped his speech, and he could not but look that way.\n\nMessala having passed, the Corinthian was the only contestant on the\nAthenian\u2019s right, and to that side the latter tried to turn his broken\nfour; and then; as ill-fortune would have it, the wheel of the\nByzantine, who was next on the left, struck the tail-piece of his\nchariot, knocking his feet from under him. There was a crash, a scream\nof rage and fear, and the unfortunate Cleanthes fell under the hoofs of\nhis own steeds: a terrible sight, against which Esther covered her\neyes.\n\nOn swept the Corinthian, on the Byzantine, on the Sidonian.\n\nSanballat looked for Ben-Hur, and turned again to Drusus and his\ncoterie.\n\n\u201cA hundred sestertii on the Jew!\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cTaken!\u201d answered Drusus.\n\n\u201cAnother hundred on the Jew!\u201d shouted Sanballat.\n\nNobody appeared to hear him. He called again; the situation below was\ntoo absorbing, and they were too busy shouting, \u201cMessala! Messala! Jove\nwith us!\u201d\n\nWhen the Jewess ventured to look again, a party of workmen were\nremoving the horses and broken car; another party were taking off the\nman himself; and every bench upon which there was a Greek was vocal\nwith execrations and prayers for vengeance. Suddenly she dropped her\nhands; Ben-Hur, unhurt, was to the front, coursing freely forward along\nwith the Roman! Behind them, in a group, followed the Sidonian, the\nCorinthian, and the Byzantine.\n\nThe race was on; the souls of the racers were in it; over them bent the\nmyriads.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\nWhen the dash for position began, Ben-Hur, as we have seen, was on the\nextreme left of the six. For a moment, like the others, he was half\nblinded by the light in the arena; yet he managed to catch sight of his\nantagonists and divine their purpose. At Messala, who was more than an\nantagonist to him, he gave one searching look. The air of passionless\nhauteur characteristic of the fine patrician face was there as of old,\nand so was the Italian beauty, which the helmet rather increased; but\nmore\u2014it may have been a jealous fancy, or the effect of the brassy\nshadow in which the features were at the moment cast, still the\nIsraelite thought he saw the soul of the man as through a glass,\ndarkly: cruel, cunning, desperate; not so excited as determined\u2014a soul\nin a tension of watchfulness and fierce resolve.\n\nIn a time not longer than was required to turn to his four again,\nBen-Hur felt his own resolution harden to a like temper. At whatever\ncost, at all hazards, he would humble this enemy! Prize, friends,\nwagers, honor\u2014everything that can be thought of as a possible interest\nin the race was lost in the one deliberate purpose. Regard for life\neven should not hold him back. Yet there was no passion, on his part;\nno blinding rush of heated blood from heart to brain, and back again;\nno impulse to fling himself upon Fortune: he did not believe in\nFortune; far otherwise. He had his plan, and, confiding in himself, he\nsettled to the task never more observant, never more capable. The air\nabout him seemed aglow with a renewed and perfect transparency.\n\nWhen not half-way across the arena, he saw that Messala\u2019s rush would,\nif there was no collision, and the rope fell, give him the wall; that\nthe rope would fall, he ceased as soon to doubt; and, further, it came\nto him, a sudden flash-like insight, that Messala knew it was to be let\ndrop at the last moment (prearrangement with the editor could safely\nreach that point in the contest); and it suggested, what more\nRoman-like than for the official to lend himself to a countryman who,\nbesides being so popular, had also so much at stake? There could be no\nother accounting for the confidence with which Messala pushed his four\nforward the instant his competitors were prudentially checking their\nfours in front of the obstruction\u2014no other except madness.\n\nIt is one thing to see a necessity and another to act upon it. Ben-Hur\nyielded the wall for the time.\n\nThe rope fell, and all the fours but his sprang into the course under\nurgency of voice and lash. He drew head to the right, and, with all the\nspeed of his Arabs, darted across the trails of his opponents, the\nangle of movement being such as to lose the least time and gain the\ngreatest possible advance. So, while the spectators were shivering at\nthe Athenian\u2019s mishap, and the Sidonian, Byzantine, and Corinthian were\nstriving, with such skill as they possessed, to avoid involvement in\nthe ruin, Ben-Hur swept around and took the course neck and neck with\nMessala, though on the outside. The marvellous skill shown in making\nthe change thus from the extreme left across to the right without\nappreciable loss did not fail the sharp eyes upon the benches; the\nCircus seemed to rock and rock again with prolonged applause. Then\nEsther clasped her hands in glad surprise; then Sanballat, smiling,\noffered his hundred sestertii a second time without a taker; and then\nthe Romans began to doubt, thinking Messala might have found an equal,\nif not a master, and that in an Israelite!\n\nAnd now, racing together side by side, a narrow interval between them,\nthe two neared the second goal.\n\nThe pedestal of the three pillars there, viewed from the west, was a\nstone wall in the form of a half-circle, around which the course and\nopposite balcony were bent in exact parallelism. Making this turn was\nconsidered in all respects the most telling test of a charioteer; it\nwas, in fact, the very feat in which Oraetes failed. As an involuntary\nadmission of interest on the part of the spectators, a hush fell over\nall the Circus, so that for the first time in the race the rattle and\nclang of the cars plunging after the tugging steeds were distinctly\nheard. Then, it would seem, Messala observed Ben-Hur, and recognized\nhim; and at once the audacity of the man flamed out in an astonishing\nmanner.\n\n\u201cDown Eros, up Mars!\u201d he shouted, whirling his lash with practised\nhand\u2014\u201cDown Eros, up Mars!\u201d he repeated, and caught the well-doing Arabs\nof Ben-Hur a cut the like of which they had never known.\n\nThe blow was seen in every quarter, and the amazement was universal.\nThe silence deepened; up on the benches behind the consul the boldest\nheld his breath, waiting for the outcome. Only a moment thus: then,\ninvoluntarily, down from the balcony, as thunder falls, burst the\nindignant cry of the people.\n\nThe four sprang forward affrighted. No hand had ever been laid upon\nthem except in love; they had been nurtured ever so tenderly; and as\nthey grew, their confidence in man became a lesson to men beautiful to\nsee. What should such dainty natures do under such indignity but leap\nas from death?\n\nForward they sprang as with one impulse, and forward leaped the car.\nPast question, every experience is serviceable to us. Where got Ben-Hur\nthe large hand and mighty grip which helped him now so well? Where but\nfrom the oar with which so long he fought the sea? And what was this\nspring of the floor under his feet to the dizzy eccentric lurch with\nwhich in the old time the trembling ship yielded to the beat of\nstaggering billows, drunk with their power? So he kept his place, and\ngave the four free rein, and called to them in soothing voice, trying\nmerely to guide them round the dangerous turn; and before the fever of\nthe people began to abate, he had back the mastery. Nor that only: on\napproaching the first goal, he was again side by side with Messala,\nbearing with him the sympathy and admiration of every one not a Roman.\nSo clearly was the feeling shown, so vigorous its manifestation, that\nMessala, with all his boldness, felt it unsafe to trifle further.\n\nAs the cars whirled round the goal, Esther caught sight of Ben-Hur\u2019s\nface\u2014a little pale, a little higher raised, otherwise calm, even\nplacid.\n\nImmediately a man climbed on the entablature at the west end of the\ndivision wall, and took down one of the conical wooden balls. A dolphin\non the east entablature was taken down at the same time.\n\nIn like manner, the second ball and second dolphin disappeared.\n\nAnd then the third ball and third dolphin.\n\nThree rounds concluded: still Messala held the inside position; still\nBen-Hur moved with him side by side; still the other competitors\nfollowed as before. The contest began to have the appearance of one of\nthe double races which became so popular in Rome during the later\nC\u00e6sarean period\u2014Messala and Ben-Hur in the first, the Corinthian,\nSidonian, and Byzantine in the second. Meantime the ushers succeeded in\nreturning the multitude to their seats, though the clamor continued to\nrun the rounds, keeping, as it were, even pace with the rivals in the\ncourse below.\n\nIn the fifth round the Sidonian succeeded in getting a place outside\nBen-Hur, but lost it directly.\n\nThe sixth round was entered upon without change of relative position.\n\nGradually the speed had been quickened\u2014gradually the blood of the\ncompetitors warmed with the work. Men and beasts seemed to know alike\nthat the final crisis was near, bringing the time for the winner to\nassert himself.\n\nThe interest which from the beginning had centred chiefly in the\nstruggle between the Roman and the Jew, with an intense and general\nsympathy for the latter, was fast changing to anxiety on his account.\nOn all the benches the spectators bent forward motionless, except as\ntheir faces turned following the contestants. Ilderim quitted combing\nhis beard, and Esther forgot her fears.\n\n\u201cA hundred sestertii on the Jew!\u201d cried Sanballat to the Romans under\nthe consul\u2019s awning.\n\nThere was no reply.\n\n\u201cA talent\u2014or five talents, or ten; choose ye!\u201d\n\nHe shook his tablets at them defiantly.\n\n\u201cI will take thy sestertii,\u201d answered a Roman youth, preparing to\nwrite.\n\n\u201cDo not so,\u201d interposed a friend.\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMessala hath reached his utmost speed. See him lean over his chariot\nrim, the reins loose as flying ribbons. Look then at the Jew.\u201d\n\nThe first one looked.\n\n\u201cBy Hercules!\u201d he replied, his countenance falling. \u201cThe dog throws all\nhis weight on the bits. I see, I see! If the gods help not our friend,\nhe will be run away with by the Israelite. No, not yet. Look! Jove with\nus, Jove with us!\u201d\n\nThe cry, swelled by every Latin tongue, shook the velaria over the\nconsul\u2019s head.\n\nIf it were true that Messala had attained his utmost speed, the effort\nwas with effect; slowly but certainly he was beginning to forge ahead.\nHis horses were running with their heads low down; from the balcony\ntheir bodies appeared actually to skim the earth; their nostrils showed\nblood red in expansion; their eyes seemed straining in their sockets.\nCertainly the good steeds were doing their best! How long could they\nkeep the pace? It was but the commencement of the sixth round. On they\ndashed. As they neared the second goal, Ben-Hur turned in behind the\nRoman\u2019s car.\n\nThe joy of the Messala faction reached its bound: they screamed and\nhowled, and tossed their colors; and Sanballat filled his tablets with\nwagers of their tendering.\n\nMalluch, in the lower gallery over the Gate of Triumph, found it hard\nto keep his cheer. He had cherished the vague hint dropped to him by\nBen-Hur of something to happen in the turning of the western pillars.\nIt was the fifth round, yet the something had not come; and he had said\nto himself, the sixth will bring it; but, lo! Ben-Hur was hardly\nholding a place at the tail of his enemy\u2019s car.\n\nOver in the east end, Simonides\u2019 party held their peace. The merchant\u2019s\nhead was bent low. Ilderim tugged at his beard, and dropped his brows\ntill there was nothing of his eyes but an occasional sparkle of light.\nEsther scarcely breathed. Iras alone appeared glad.\n\nAlong the home-stretch\u2014sixth round\u2014Messala leading, next him Ben-Hur,\nand so close it was the old story:\n\n\u201cFirst flew Eumelus on Pheretian steeds;\nWith those of Tros bold Diomed succeeds;\nClose on Eumelus\u2019 back they puff the wind,\nAnd seem just mounting on his car behind;\nFull on his neck he feels the sultry breeze,\nAnd, hovering o\u2019er, their stretching shadow sees.\u201d\n\n\nThus to the first goal, and round it. Messala, fearful of losing his\nplace, hugged the stony wall with perilous clasp; a foot to the left,\nand he had been dashed to pieces; yet, when the turn was finished, no\nman, looking at the wheel-tracks of the two cars, could have said, here\nwent Messala, there the Jew. They left but one trace behind them.\n\nAs they whirled by, Esther saw Ben-Hur\u2019s face again, and it was whiter\nthan before.\n\nSimonides, shrewder than Esther, said to Ilderim, the moment the rivals\nturned into the course, \u201cI am no judge, good sheik, if Ben-Hur be not\nabout to execute some design. His face hath that look.\u201d\n\nTo which Ilderim answered, \u201cSaw you how clean they were and fresh? By\nthe splendor of God, friend, they have not been running! But now\nwatch!\u201d\n\nOne ball and one dolphin remained on the entablatures; and all the\npeople drew a long breath, for the beginning of the end was at hand.\n\nFirst, the Sidonian gave the scourge to his four, and, smarting with\nfear and pain, they dashed desperately forward, promising for a brief\ntime to go to the front. The effort ended in promise. Next, the\nByzantine and the Corinthian each made the trial with like result,\nafter which they were practically out of the race. Thereupon, with a\nreadiness perfectly explicable, all the factions except the Romans\njoined hope in Ben-Hur, and openly indulged their feeling.\n\n\u201cBen-Hur! Ben-Hur!\u201d they shouted, and the blent voices of the many\nrolled overwhelmingly against the consular stand.\n\nFrom the benches above him as he passed, the favor descended in fierce\ninjunctions.\n\n\u201cSpeed thee, Jew!\u201d\n\n\u201cTake the wall now!\u201d\n\n\u201cOn! loose the Arabs! Give them rein and scourge!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him not have the turn on thee again. Now or never!\u201d\n\nOver the balustrade they stooped low, stretching their hands\nimploringly to him.\n\nEither he did not hear, or could not do better, for halfway round the\ncourse and he was still following; at the second goal even still no\nchange!\n\nAnd now, to make the turn, Messala began to draw in his left-hand\nsteeds, an act which necessarily slackened their speed. His spirit was\nhigh; more than one altar was richer of his vows; the Roman genius was\nstill president. On the three pillars only six hundred feet away were\nfame, increase of fortune, promotions, and a triumph ineffably\nsweetened by hate, all in store for him! That moment Malluch, in the\ngallery, saw Ben-Hur lean forward over his Arabs, and give them the\nreins. Out flew the many-folded lash in his hand; over the backs of the\nstartled steeds it writhed and hissed, and hissed and writhed again and\nagain; and though it fell not, there were both sting and menace in its\nquick report; and as the man passed thus from quiet to resistless\naction, his face suffused, his eyes gleaming, along the reins he seemed\nto flash his will; and instantly not one, but the four as one, answered\nwith a leap that landed them alongside the Roman\u2019s car. Messala, on the\nperilous edge of the goal, heard, but dared not look to see what the\nawakening portended. From the people he received no sign. Above the\nnoises of the race there was but one voice, and that was Ben-Hur\u2019s. In\nthe old Aramaic, as the sheik himself, he called to the Arabs,\n\n\u201cOn, Atair! On, Rigel! What, Antares! dost thou linger now? Good\nhorse\u2014oho, Aldebaran! I hear them singing in the tents. I hear the\nchildren singing and the women\u2014singing of the stars, of Atair, Antares,\nRigel, Aldebaran, victory!\u2014and the song will never end. Well done! Home\nto-morrow, under the black tent\u2014home! On, Antares! The tribe is waiting\nfor us, and the master is waiting! \u2019Tis done! \u2019tis done! Ha, ha! We\nhave overthrown the proud. The hand that smote us is in the dust. Ours\nthe glory! Ha, ha!\u2014steady! The work is done\u2014soho! Rest!\u201d\n\nThere had never been anything of the kind more simple; seldom anything\nso instantaneous.\n\nAt the moment chosen for the dash, Messala was moving in a circle round\nthe goal. To pass him, Ben-Hur had to cross the track, and good\nstrategy required the movement to be in a forward direction; that is,\non a like circle limited to the least possible increase. The thousands\non the benches understood it all: they saw the signal given\u2014the\nmagnificent response; the four close outside Messala\u2019s outer wheel;\nBen-Hur\u2019s inner wheel behind the other\u2019s car\u2014all this they saw. Then\nthey heard a crash loud enough to send a thrill through the Circus,\nand, quicker than thought, out over the course a spray of shining white\nand yellow flinders flew. Down on its right side toppled the bed of the\nRoman\u2019s chariot. There was a rebound as of the axle hitting the hard\nearth; another and another; then the car went to pieces; and Messala,\nentangled in the reins, pitched forward headlong.\n\nTo increase the horror of the sight by making death certain, the\nSidonian, who had the wall next behind, could not stop or turn out.\nInto the wreck full speed he drove; then over the Roman, and into the\nlatter\u2019s four, all mad with fear. Presently, out of the turmoil, the\nfighting of horses, the resound of blows, the murky cloud of dust and\nsand, he crawled, in time to see the Corinthian and Byzantine go on\ndown the course after Ben-Hur, who had not been an instant delayed.\n\nThe people arose, and leaped upon the benches, and shouted and\nscreamed. Those who looked that way caught glimpses of Messala, now\nunder the trampling of the fours, now under the abandoned cars. He was\nstill; they thought him dead; but far the greater number followed\nBen-Hur in his career. They had not seen the cunning touch of the reins\nby which, turning a little to the left, he caught Messala\u2019s wheel with\nthe iron-shod point of his axle, and crushed it; but they had seen the\ntransformation of the man, and themselves felt the heat and glow of his\nspirit, the heroic resolution, the maddening energy of action with\nwhich, by look, word, and gesture, he so suddenly inspired his Arabs.\nAnd such running! It was rather the long leaping of lions in harness;\nbut for the lumbering chariot, it seemed the four were flying. When the\nByzantine and Corinthian were halfway down the course, Ben-Hur turned\nthe first goal.\n\nAND THE RACE WAS WON!\n\nThe consul arose; the people shouted themselves hoarse; the editor came\ndown from his seat, and crowned the victors.\n\nThe fortunate man among the boxers was a low-browed, yellow-haired\nSaxon, of such brutalized face as to attract a second look from\nBen-Hur, who recognized a teacher with whom he himself had been a\nfavorite at Rome. From him the young Jew looked up and beheld Simonides\nand his party on the balcony. They waved their hands to him. Esther\nkept her seat; but Iras arose, and gave him a smile and a wave of her\nfan\u2014favors not the less intoxicating to him because we know, O reader,\nthey would have fallen to Messala had he been the victor.\n\nThe procession was then formed, and, midst the shouting of the\nmultitude which had had its will, passed out of the Gate of Triumph.\n\nAnd the day was over.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\n\nBen-Hur tarried across the river with Ilderim; for at midnight, as\npreviously determined, they would take the road which the caravan, then\nthirty hours out, had pursued.\n\nThe sheik was happy; his offers of gifts had been royal; but Ben-Hur\nhad refused everything, insisting that he was satisfied with the\nhumiliation of his enemy. The generous dispute was long continued.\n\n\u201cThink,\u201d the sheik would say, \u201cwhat thou hast done for me. In every\nblack tent down to the Akaba and to the ocean, and across to the\nEuphrates, and beyond to the sea of the Scythians, the renown of my\nMira and her children will go; and they who sing of them will magnify\nme, and forget that I am in the wane of life; and all the spears now\nmasterless will come to me, and my sword-hands multiply past counting.\nThou dost not know what it is to have sway of the desert such as will\nnow be mine. I tell thee it will bring tribute incalculable from\ncommerce, and immunity from kings. Ay, by the sword of Solomon! doth my\nmessenger seek favor for me of C\u00e6sar, that will he get. Yet\nnothing\u2014nothing?\u201d\n\nAnd Ben-Hur would answer,\n\n\u201cNay, sheik, have I not thy hand and heart? Let thy increase of power\nand influence inure to the King who comes. Who shall say it was not\nallowed thee for him? In the work I am going to, I may have great need.\nSaying no now will leave me to ask of thee with better grace\nhereafter.\u201d\n\nIn the midst of a controversy of the kind, two messengers\narrived\u2014Malluch and one unknown. The former was admitted first.\n\nThe good fellow did not attempt to hide his joy over the event of the\nday.\n\n\u201cBut, coming to that with which I am charged,\u201d he said, \u201cthe master\nSimonides sends me to say that, upon the adjournment of the games, some\nof the Roman faction made haste to protest against payment of the money\nprize.\u201d\n\nIlderim started up, crying, in his shrillest tones,\n\n\u201cBy the splendor of God! the East shall decide whether the race was\nfairly won.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, good sheik,\u201d said Malluch, \u201cthe editor has paid the money.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis well.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen they said Ben-Hur struck Messala\u2019s wheel, the editor laughed, and\nreminded them of the blow the Arabs had at the turn of the goal.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what of the Athenian?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cDead!\u201d cried Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cDead!\u201d echoed Ilderim. \u201cWhat fortune these Roman monsters have!\nMessala escaped?\u201d\n\n\u201cEscaped\u2014yes, O sheik, with life; but it shall be a burden to him. The\nphysicians say he will live, but never walk again.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked silently up to heaven. He had a vision of Messala,\nchairbound like Simonides, and, like him, going abroad on the shoulders\nof servants. The good man had abode well; but what would this one with\nhis pride and ambition?\n\n\u201cSimonides bade me say, further,\u201d Malluch continued, \u201cSanballat is\nhaving trouble. Drusus, and those who signed with him, referred the\nquestion of paying the five talents they lost to the Consul Maxentius,\nand he has referred it to C\u00e6sar. Messala also refused his losses, and\nSanballat, in imitation of Drusus, went to the consul, where the matter\nis still in advisement. The better Romans say the protestants shall not\nbe excused; and all the adverse factions join with them. The city rings\nwith the scandal.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat says Simonides?\u201d asked Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cThe master laughs, and is well pleased. If the Roman pays, he is\nruined; if he refuses to pay, he is dishonored. The imperial policy\nwill decide the matter. To offend the East would be a bad beginning\nwith the Parthians; to offend Sheik Ilderim would be to antagonize the\nDesert, over which lie all Maxentius\u2019s lines of operation. Wherefore\nSimonides bade me tell you to have no disquiet; Messala will pay.\u201d\n\nIlderim was at once restored to his good-humor.\n\n\u201cLet us be off now,\u201d he said, rubbing his hands. \u201cThe business will do\nwell with Simonides. The glory is ours. I will order the horses.\u201d\n\n\u201cStay,\u201d said Malluch. \u201cI left a messenger outside. Will you see him?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the splendor of God! I forgot him.\u201d\n\nMalluch retired, and was succeeded by a lad of gentle manners and\ndelicate appearance, who knelt upon one knee, and said, winningly,\n\u201cIras, the daughter of Balthasar, well known to good Sheik Ilderim,\nhath intrusted me with a message to the sheik, who, she saith, will do\nher great favor so he receive her congratulations on account of the\nvictory of his four.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe daughter of my friend is kind,\u201d said Ilderim, with sparkling eyes.\n\u201cDo thou give her this jewel, in sign of the pleasure I have from her\nmessage.\u201d\n\nHe took a ring from his finger as he spoke.\n\n\u201cI will as thou sayest, O sheik,\u201d the lad replied, and continued, \u201cThe\ndaughter of the Egyptian charged me further. She prays the good Sheik\nIlderim to send word to the youth Ben-Hur that her father hath taken\nresidence for a time in the palace of Idernee, where she will receive\nthe youth after the fourth hour to-morrow. And if, with her\ncongratulations, Sheik Ilderim will accept her gratitude for this other\nfavor done, she will be ever so pleased.\u201d\n\nThe sheik looked at Ben-Hur, whose face was suffused with pleasure.\n\n\u201cWhat will you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBy your leave, O sheik, I will see the fair Egyptian.\u201d\n\nIlderim laughed, and said, \u201cShall not a man enjoy his youth?\u201d\n\nThen Ben-Hur answered the messenger.\n\n\u201cSay to her who sent you that I, Ben-Hur, will see her at the palace of\nIdernee, wherever that may be, to-morrow at noon.\u201d\n\nThe lad arose, and, with silent salute, departed.\n\nAt midnight Ilderim took the road, having arranged to leave a horse and\na guide for Ben-Hur, who was to follow him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\n\nGoing next day to fill his appointment with Iras, Ben-Hur turned from\nthe Omphalus, which was in the heart of the city, into the Colonnade of\nHerod, and came shortly to the palace of Idernee.\n\nFrom the street he passed first into a vestibule, on the sides of which\nwere stairways under cover, leading up to a portico. Winged lions sat\nby the stairs; in the middle there was a gigantic ibis spouting water\nover the floor; the lions, ibis, walls, and floor were reminders of the\nEgyptians: everything, even the balustrading of the stairs, was of\nmassive gray stone.\n\nAbove the vestibule, and covering the landing of the steps, arose the\nportico, a pillared grace, so light, so exquisitely proportioned, it\nwas at that period hardly possible of conception except by a Greek. Of\nmarble snowy white, its effect was that of a lily dropped carelessly\nupon a great bare rock.\n\nBen-Hur paused in the shade of the portico to admire its tracery and\nfinish, and the purity of its marble; then he passed on into the\npalace. Ample folding-doors stood open to receive him. The passage into\nwhich he first entered was high, but somewhat narrow; red tiling formed\nthe floor, and the walls were tinted to correspond. Yet this plainness\nwas a warning of something beautiful to come.\n\nHe moved on slowly, all his faculties in repose. Presently he would be\nin the presence of Iras; she was waiting for him; waiting with song and\nstory and badinage, sparkling, fanciful, capricious\u2014with smiles which\nglorified her glance, and glances which lent voluptuous suggestion to\nher whisper. She had sent for him the evening of the boat-ride on the\nlake in the Orchard of Palms; she had sent for him now; and he was\ngoing to her in the beautiful palace of Idernee. He was happy and\ndreamful rather than thoughtless.\n\nThe passage brought him to a closed door, in front of which he paused;\nand, as he did so, the broad leaves began to open of themselves,\nwithout creak or sound of lock or latch, or touch of foot or finger.\nThe singularity was lost in the view that broke upon him.\n\nStanding in the shade of the dull passage, and looking through the\ndoorway, he beheld the atrium of a Roman house, roomy and rich to a\nfabulous degree of magnificence.\n\nHow large the chamber was cannot be stated, because of the deceit there\nis in exact proportions; its depth was vista-like, something never to\nbe said of an equal interior. When he stopped to make survey, and\nlooked down upon the floor, he was standing upon the breast of a Leda,\nrepresented as caressing a swan; and, looking farther, he saw the whole\nfloor was similarly laid in mosaic pictures of mythological subjects.\nAnd there were stools and chairs, each a separate design, and a work of\nart exquisitely composed, and tables much carven, and here and there\ncouches which were invitations of themselves. The articles of\nfurniture, which stood out from the walls, were duplicated on the floor\ndistinctly as if they floated unrippled water; even the panelling of\nthe walls, the figures upon them in painting and bas-relief, and the\nfresco of the ceiling were reflected on the floor. The ceiling curved\nup towards the centre, where there was an opening through which the\nsunlight poured without hindrance, and the sky, ever so blue, seemed in\nhand-reach; the impluvium under the opening was guarded by bronzed\nrails; the gilded pillars supporting the roof at the edges of the\nopening shone like flame where the sun struck them, and their\nreflections beneath seemed to stretch to infinite depth. And there were\ncandelabra quaint and curious, and statuary and vases; the whole making\nan interior that would have befitted well the house on the Palatine\nHill which Cicero bought of Crassus, or that other, yet more famous for\nextravagance, the Tusculan villa of Scaurus.\n\nStill in his dreamful mood, Ben-Hur sauntered about, charmed by all he\nbeheld, and waiting. He did not mind a little delay; when Iras was\nready, she would come or send a servant. In every well-regulated Roman\nhouse the atrium was the reception chamber for visitors.\n\nTwice, thrice, he made the round. As often he stood under the opening\nin the roof, and pondered the sky and its azure depth; then, leaning\nagainst a pillar, he studied the distribution of light and shade, and\nits effects; here a veil diminishing objects, there a brilliance\nexaggerating others; yet nobody came. Time, or rather the passage of\ntime, began at length to impress itself upon him, and he wondered why\nIras stayed so long. Again he traced out the figures upon the floor,\nbut not with the satisfaction the first inspection gave him. He paused\noften to listen: directly impatience blew a little fevered breath upon\nhis spirit; next time it blew stronger and hotter; and at last he woke\nto a consciousness of the silence which held the house in thrall, and\nthe thought of it made him uneasy and distrustful. Still he put the\nfeeling off with a smile and a promise. \u201cOh, she is giving the last\ntouch to her eyelids, or she is arranging a chaplet for me; she will\ncome presently, more beautiful of the delay!\u201d He sat down then to\nadmire a candelabrum\u2014a bronze plinth on rollers, filigree on the sides\nand edges; the post at one end, and on the end opposite it an altar and\na female celebrant; the lamp-rests swinging by delicate chains from the\nextremities of drooping palm-branches; altogether a wonder in its way.\nBut the silence would obtrude itself: he listened even as he looked at\nthe pretty object\u2014he listened, but there was not a sound; the palace\nwas still as a tomb.\n\nThere might be a mistake. No, the messenger had come from the Egyptian,\nand this was the palace of Idernee. Then he remembered how mysteriously\nthe door had opened so soundlessly, so of itself. He would see!\n\nHe went to the same door. Though he walked ever so lightly the sound of\nhis stepping was loud and harsh, and he shrank from it. He was getting\nnervous. The cumbrous Roman lock resisted his first effort to raise it;\nand the second\u2014the blood chilled in his cheeks\u2014he wrenched with all his\nmight: in vain\u2014the door was not even shaken. A sense of danger seized\nhim, and for a moment he stood irresolute.\n\nWho in Antioch had the motive to do him harm?\n\nMessala!\n\nAnd this palace of Idernee? He had seen Egypt in the vestibule, Athens\nin the snowy portico; but here, in the atrium, was Rome; everything\nabout him betrayed Roman ownership. True, the site was on the great\nthoroughfare of the city, a very public place in which to do him\nviolence; but for that reason it was more accordant with the audacious\ngenius of his enemy. The atrium underwent a change; with all its\nelegance and beauty, it was no more than a trap. Apprehension always\npaints in black.\n\nThe idea irritated Ben-Hur.\n\nThere were many doors on the right and left of the atrium, leading,\ndoubtless, to sleeping-chambers; he tried them, but they were all\nfirmly fastened. Knocking might bring response. Ashamed to make outcry,\nhe betook himself to a couch, and, lying down, tried to reflect.\n\nAll too plainly he was a prisoner; but for what purpose? and by whom?\n\nIf the work were Messala\u2019s! He sat up, looked about, and smiled\ndefiantly. There were weapons in every table. But birds had been\nstarved in golden cages; not so would he\u2014the couches would serve him as\nbattering-rams; and he was strong, and there was such increase of might\nin rage and despair!\n\nMessala himself could not come. He would never walk again; he was a\ncripple like Simonides; still he could move others. And where were\nthere not others to be moved by him? Ben-Hur arose, and tried the doors\nagain. Once he called out; the room echoed so that he was startled.\nWith such calmness as he could assume, he made up his mind to wait a\ntime before attempting to break a way out.\n\nIn such a situation the mind has its ebb and flow of disquiet, with\nintervals of peace between. At length\u2014how long, though, he could not\nhave said\u2014he came to the conclusion that the affair was an accident or\nmistake. The palace certainly belonged to somebody; it must have care\nand keeping: and the keeper would come; the evening or the night would\nbring him. Patience!\n\nSo concluding, he waited.\n\nHalf an hour passed\u2014a much longer period to Ben-Hur\u2014when the door which\nhad admitted him opened and closed noiselessly as before, and without\nattracting his attention.\n\nThe moment of the occurrence he was sitting at the farther end of the\nroom. A footstep startled him.\n\n\u201cAt last she has come!\u201d he thought, with a throb of relief and\npleasure, and arose.\n\nThe step was heavy, and accompanied with the gride and clang of coarse\nsandals. The gilded pillars were between him and the door; he advanced\nquietly, and leaned against one of them. Presently he heard voices\u2014the\nvoices of men\u2014one of them rough and guttural. What was said he could\nnot understand, as the language was not of the East or South of Europe.\n\nAfter a general survey of the room, the strangers crossed to their\nleft, and were brought into Ben-Hur\u2019s view\u2014two men, one very stout,\nboth tall, and both in short tunics. They had not the air of masters of\nthe house or domestics. Everything they saw appeared wonderful to them;\neverything they stopped to examine they touched. They were vulgarians.\nThe atrium seemed profaned by their presence. At the same time, their\nleisurely manner and the assurance with which they proceeded pointed to\nsome right or business; if business, with whom?\n\nWith much jargon they sauntered this way and that, all the time\ngradually approaching the pillar by which Ben-Hur was standing. Off a\nlittle way, where a slanted gleam of the sun fell with a glare upon the\nmosaic of the floor, there was a statue which attracted their notice.\nIn examining it, they stopped in the light.\n\nThe mystery surrounding his own presence in the palace tended, as we\nhave seen, to make Ben-Hur nervous; so now, when in the tall stout\nstranger he recognized the Northman whom he had known in Rome, and seen\ncrowned only the day before in the Circus as the winning pugilist; when\nhe saw the man\u2019s face, scarred with the wounds of many battles, and\nimbruted by ferocious passions; when he surveyed the fellow\u2019s naked\nlimbs, very marvels of exercise and training, and his shoulders of\nHerculean breadth, a thought of personal danger started a chill along\nevery vein. A sure instinct warned him that the opportunity for murder\nwas too perfect to have come by chance; and here now were the\nmyrmidons, and their business was with him. He turned an anxious eye\nupon the Northman\u2019s comrade\u2014young, black-eyed, black-haired, and\naltogether Jewish in appearance; he observed, also, that both the men\nwere in costume exactly such as professionals of their class were in\nthe habit of wearing in the arena. Putting the several circumstances\ntogether, Ben-Hur could not be longer in doubt: he had been lured into\nthe palace with design. Out of reach of aid, in this splendid privacy,\nhe was to die!\n\nAt a loss what to do, he gazed from man to man, while there was enacted\nwithin him that miracle of mind by which life is passed before us in\nawful detail, to be looked at by ourselves as if it were another\u2019s; and\nfrom the evolvement, from a hidden depth, cast up, as it were, by a\nhidden hand, he was given to see that he had entered upon a new life,\ndifferent from the old one in this: whereas, in that, he had been the\nvictim of violences done to him, henceforth he was to be the aggressor.\nOnly yesterday he had found his first victim! To the purely Christian\nnature the presentation would have brought the weakness of remorse. Not\nso with Ben-Hur; his spirit had its emotions from the teachings of the\nfirst lawgiver, not the last and greatest one. He had dealt punishment,\nnot wrong, to Messala. By permission of the Lord, he had triumphed; and\nhe derived faith from the circumstance\u2014faith the source of all rational\nstrength, especially strength in peril.\n\nNor did the influence stop there. The new life was made appear to him a\nmission just begun, and holy as the King to come was holy, and certain\nas the coming of the King was certain\u2014a mission in which force was\nlawful if only because it was unavoidable. Should he, on the very\nthreshold of such an errand, be afraid?\n\nHe undid the sash around his waist, and, baring his head and casting\noff his white Jewish gown, stood forth in an undertunic not unlike\nthose of the enemy, and was ready, body and mind. Folding his arms, he\nplaced his back against the pillar, and calmly waited.\n\nThe examination of the statue was brief. Directly the Northman turned,\nand said something in the unknown tongue; then both looked at Ben-Hur.\nA few more words, and they advanced towards him.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d he asked, in Latin.\n\nThe Northman fetched a smile which did not relieve his face of its\nbrutalism, and answered,\n\n\u201cBarbarians.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is the palace of Idernee. Whom seek you? Stand and answer.\u201d\n\nThe words were spoken with earnestness. The strangers stopped; and in\nhis turn the Northman asked, \u201cWho are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cA Roman.\u201d\n\nThe giant laid his head back upon his shoulders.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha! I have heard how a god once came from a cow licking a\nsalted stone; but not even a god can make a Roman of a Jew.\u201d\n\nThe laugh over, he spoke to his companion again, and they moved nearer.\n\n\u201cHold!\u201d said Ben-Hur, quitting the pillar. \u201cOne word.\u201d\n\nThey stopped again.\n\n\u201cA word!\u201d replied the Saxon, folding his immense arms across his\nbreast, and relaxing the menace beginning to blacken his face. \u201cA word!\nSpeak.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are Thord the Northman.\u201d\n\nThe giant opened his blue eyes.\n\n\u201cYou were lanista in Rome.\u201d\n\nThord nodded.\n\n\u201cI was your scholar.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Thord, shaking his head. \u201cBy the beard of Irmin, I had never\na Jew to make a fighting-man of.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I will prove my saying.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou came here to kill me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen let this man fight me singly, and I will make the proof on his\nbody.\u201d\n\nA gleam of humor shone in the Northman\u2019s face. He spoke to his\ncompanion, who made answer; then he replied with the naivete of a\ndiverted child,\n\n\u201cWait till I say begin.\u201d\n\nBy repeated touches of his foot, he pushed a couch out on the floor,\nand proceeded leisurely to stretch his burly form upon it; when\nperfectly at ease, he said, simply, \u201cNow begin.\u201d\n\nWithout ado, Ben-Hur walked to his antagonist.\n\n\u201cDefend thyself,\u201d he said.\n\nThe man, nothing loath, put up his hands.\n\nAs the two thus confronted each other in approved position, there was\nno discernible inequality between them; on the contrary, they were as\nlike as brothers. To the stranger\u2019s confident smile, Ben-Hur opposed an\nearnestness which, had his skill been known, would have been accepted\nfair warning of danger. Both knew the combat was to be mortal.\n\nBen-Hur feinted with his right hand. The stranger warded, slightly\nadvancing his left arm. Ere he could return to guard, Ben-Hur caught\nhim by the wrist in a grip which years at the oar had made terrible as\na vise. The surprise was complete, and no time given. To throw himself\nforward; to push the arm across the man\u2019s throat and over his right\nshoulder, and turn him left side front; to strike surely with the ready\nleft hand; to strike the bare neck under the ear\u2014were but petty\ndivisions of the same act. No need of a second blow. The myrmidon fell\nheavily, and without a cry, and lay still.\n\nBen-Hur turned to Thord.\n\n\u201cHa! What! By the beard of Irmin!\u201d the latter cried, in astonishment,\nrising to a sitting posture. Then he laughed.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha! I could not have done it better myself.\u201d\n\nHe viewed Ben-Hur coolly from head to foot, and, rising, faced him with\nundisguised admiration.\n\n\u201cIt was my trick\u2014the trick I have practised for ten years in the\nschools of Rome. You are not a Jew. Who are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou knew Arrius the duumvir.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuintus Arrius? Yes, he was my patron.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe had a son.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Thord, his battered features lighting dully, \u201cI knew the\nboy; he would have made a king gladiator. C\u00e6sar offered him his\npatronage. I taught him the very trick you played on this one here\u2014a\ntrick impossible except to a hand and arm like mine. It has won me many\na crown.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am that son of Arrius.\u201d\n\nThord drew nearer, and viewed him carefully; then his eyes brightened\nwith genuine pleasure, and, laughing, he held out his hand.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha! He told me I would find a Jew here\u2014a Jew\u2014a dog of a\nJew\u2014killing whom was serving the gods.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho told you so?\u201d asked Ben-Hur, taking the hand.\n\n\u201cHe\u2014Messala\u2014ha, ha, ha!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen, Thord?\u201d\n\n\u201cLast night.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought he was hurt.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will never walk again. On his bed he told me between groans.\u201d\n\nA very vivid portrayal of hate in a few words; and Ben-Hur saw that the\nRoman, if he lived, would still be capable and dangerous, and follow\nhim unrelentingly. Revenge remained to sweeten the ruined life;\ntherefore the clinging to fortune lost in the wager with Sanballat.\nBen-Hur ran the ground over, with a distinct foresight of the many ways\nin which it would be possible for his enemy to interfere with him in\nthe work he had undertaken for the King who was coming. Why not he\nresort to the Roman\u2019s methods? The man hired to kill him could be hired\nto strike back. It was in his power to offer higher wages. The\ntemptation was strong; and, half yielding, he chanced to look down at\nhis late antagonist lying still, with white upturned face, so like\nhimself. A light came to him, and he asked, \u201cThord, what was Messala to\ngive you for killing me?\u201d\n\n\u201cA thousand sestertii.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall have them yet; and so you do now what I tell you, I will add\nthree thousand more to the sum.\u201d\n\nThe giant reflected aloud,\n\n\u201cI won five thousand yesterday; from the Roman one\u2014six. Give me four,\ngood Arrius\u2014four more\u2014and I will stand firm for you, though old Thor,\nmy namesake, strike me with his hammer. Make it four, and I will kill\nthe lying patrician, if you say so. I have only to cover his mouth with\nmy hand\u2014thus.\u201d\n\nHe illustrated the process by clapping his hand over his own mouth.\n\n\u201cI see,\u201d said Ben-Hur; \u201cten thousand sestertii is a fortune. It will\nenable you to return to Rome, and open a wine-shop near the Great\nCircus, and live as becomes the first of the lanistae.\u201d\n\nThe very scars on the giant\u2019s face glowed afresh with the pleasure the\npicture gave him.\n\n\u201cI will make it four thousand,\u201d Ben-Hur continued; \u201cand in what you\nshall do for the money there will be no blood on your hands, Thord.\nHear me now. Did not your friend here look like me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would have said he was an apple from the same tree.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if I put on his tunic, and dress him in these clothes of mine,\nand you and I go away together, leaving him here, can you not get your\nsestertii from Messala all the same? You have only to make him believe\nit me that is dead.\u201d\n\nThord laughed till the tears ran into his mouth.\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha! Ten thousand sestertii were never won so easily. And a\nwine-shop by the Great Circus!\u2014all for a lie without blood in it! Ha,\nha, ha! Give me thy hand, O son of Arrius. Get on now, and\u2014ha, ha,\nha!\u2014if ever you come to Rome, fail not to ask for the wine-shop of\nThord the Northman. By the beard of Irmin, I will give you the best,\nthough I borrow it from C\u00e6sar!\u201d\n\nThey shook hands again; after which the exchange of clothes was\neffected. It was arranged then that a messenger should go at night to\nThord\u2019s lodging-place with the four thousand sestertii. When they were\ndone, the giant knocked at the front door; it opened to him; and,\npassing out of the atrium, he led Ben-Hur into a room adjoining, where\nthe latter completed his attire from the coarse garments of the dead\npugilist. They separated directly in the Omphalus.\n\n\u201cFail not, O son of Arrius, fail not the wine-shop near the Great\nCircus! Ha, ha, ha! By the beard of Irmin, there was never fortune\ngained so cheap. The gods keep you!\u201d\n\nUpon leaving the atrium, Ben-Hur gave a last look at the myrmidon as he\nlay in the Jewish vestments, and was satisfied. The likeness was\nstriking. If Thord kept faith, the cheat was a secret to endure\nforever.\n\n\nAt night, in the house of Simonides, Ben-Hur told the good man all that\nhad taken place in the palace of Idernee; and it was agreed that, after\na few days, public inquiry should be set afloat for the discovery of\nthe whereabouts of the son of Arrius. Eventually the matter was to be\ncarried boldly to Maxentius; then, if the mystery came not out, it was\nconcluded that Messala and Gratus would be at rest and happy, and\nBen-Hur free to betake himself to Jerusalem, to make search for his\nlost people.\n\nAt the leave-taking, Simonides sat in his chair out on the terrace\noverlooking the river, and gave his farewell and the peace of the Lord\nwith the impressment of a father. Esther went with the young man to the\nhead of the steps.\n\n\u201cIf I find my mother, Esther, thou shalt go to her at Jerusalem, and be\na sister to Tirzah.\u201d\n\nAnd with the words he kissed her.\n\nWas it only a kiss of peace?\n\nHe crossed the river next to the late quarters of Ilderim, where he\nfound the Arab who was to serve him as guide. The horses were brought\nout.\n\n\u201cThis one is thine,\u201d said the Arab.\n\nBen-Hur looked, and, lo! it was Aldebaran, the swiftest and brightest\nof the sons of Mira, and, next to Sirius, the beloved of the sheik; and\nhe knew the old man\u2019s heart came to him along with the gift.\n\nThe corpse in the atrium was taken up and buried by night; and, as part\nof Messala\u2019s plan, a courier was sent off to Gratus to make him at rest\nby the announcement of Ben-Hur\u2019s death\u2014this time past question.\n\nEre long a wine-shop was opened near the Circus Maximus, with\ninscription over the door:\n\nTHORD THE NORTHMAN.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK SIXTH\n\n\n\u201cIs that a Death? and are there two?\nIs Death that woman\u2019s mate?\n\nHer skin was as white as leprosy,\nThe Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,\nWho thicks man\u2019s blood with cold.\u201d\n\nCOLERIDGE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nOur story moves forward now thirty days from the night Ben-Hur left\nAntioch to go out with Sheik Ilderim into the desert.\n\nA great change has befallen\u2014great at least as respects the fortunes of\nour hero. _Valerius Gratus has been succeeded by Pontius Pilate!_\n\nThe removal, it may be remarked, cost Simonides exactly five talents\nRoman money in hand paid to Sejanus, who was then in height of power as\nimperial favorite; the object being to help Ben-Hur, by lessening his\nexposure while in and about Jerusalem attempting discovery of his\npeople. To such pious use the faithful servant put the winnings from\nDrusus and his associates; all of whom, having paid their wagers,\nbecame at once and naturally the enemies of Messala, whose repudiation\nwas yet an unsettled question in Rome.\n\nBrief as the time was, already the Jews knew the change of rulers was\nnot for the better.\n\nThe cohorts sent to relieve the garrison of Antonia made their entry\ninto the city by night; next morning the first sight that greeted the\npeople resident in the neighborhood was the walls of the old Tower\ndecorated with military ensigns, which unfortunately consisted of busts\nof the emperor mixed with eagles and globes. A multitude, in passion,\nmarched to C\u00e6sarea, where Pilate was lingering, and implored him to\nremove the detested images. Five days and nights they beset his palace\ngates; at last he appointed a meeting with them in the Circus. When\nthey were assembled, he encircled them with soldiers; instead of\nresisting, they offered him their lives, and conquered. He recalled the\nimages and ensigns to C\u00e6sarea, where Gratus, with more consideration,\nhad kept such abominations housed during the eleven years of his reign.\n\nThe worst of men do once in a while vary their wickednesses by good\nacts; so with Pilate. He ordered an inspection of all the prisons in\nJudea, and a return of the names of the persons in custody, with a\nstatement of the crimes for which they had been committed. Doubtless,\nthe motive was the one so common with officials just installed\u2014dread of\nentailed responsibility; the people, however, in thought of the good\nwhich might come of the measure, gave him credit, and, for a period,\nwere comforted. The revelations were astonishing. Hundreds of persons\nwere released against whom there were no accusations; many others came\nto light who had long been accounted dead; yet more amazing, there was\nopening of dungeons not merely unknown at the time by the people, but\nactually forgotten by the prison authorities. With one instance of the\nlatter kind we have now to deal; and, strange to say, it occurred in\nJerusalem.\n\nThe Tower of Antonia, which will be remembered as occupying two thirds\nof the sacred area on Mount Moriah, was originally a castle built by\nthe Macedonians. Afterwards, John Hyrcanus erected the castle into a\nfortress for the defence of the Temple, and in his day it was\nconsidered impregnable to assault; but when Herod came with his bolder\ngenius, he strengthened its walls and extended them, leaving a vast\npile which included every appurtenance necessary for the stronghold he\nintended it to be forever; such as offices, barracks, armories,\nmagazines, cisterns, and last, though not least, prisons of all grades.\nHe levelled the solid rock, and tapped it with deep excavations, and\nbuilt over them; connecting the whole great mass with the Temple by a\nbeautiful colonnade, from the roof of which one could look down over\nthe courts of the sacred structure. In such condition the Tower fell at\nlast out of his hands into those of the Romans, who were quick to see\nits strength and advantages, and convert it to uses becoming such\nmasters. All through the administration of Gratus it had been a\ngarrisoned citadel and underground prison terrible to revolutionists.\nWoe when the cohorts poured from its gates to suppress disorder! Woe\nnot less when a Jew passed the same gates going in under arrest!\n\nWith this explanation, we hasten to our story.\n\n\nThe order of the new procurator requiring a report of the persons in\ncustody was received at the Tower of Antonia, and promptly executed;\nand two days have gone since the last unfortunate was brought up for\nexamination. The tabulated statement, ready for forwarding, lies on the\ntable of the tribune in command; in five minutes more it will be on the\nway to Pilate, sojourning in the palace up on Mount Zion.\n\nThe tribune\u2019s office is spacious and cool, and furnished in a style\nsuitable to the dignity of the commandant of a post in every respect so\nimportant. Looking in upon him about the seventh hour of the day, the\nofficer appears weary and impatient; when the report is despatched, he\nwill to the roof of the colonnade for air and exercise, and the\namusement to be had watching the Jews over in the courts of the Temple.\nHis subordinates and clerks share his impatience.\n\nIn the spell of waiting a man appeared in a doorway leading to an\nadjoining apartment. He rattled a bunch of keys, each heavy as a\nhammer, and at once attracted the chief\u2019s attention.\n\n\u201cAh, Gesius! come in,\u201d the tribune said.\n\nAs the new-comer approached the table behind which the chief sat in an\neasy-chair, everybody present looked at him, and, observing a certain\nexpression of alarm and mortification on his face, became silent that\nthey might hear what he had to say.\n\n\u201cO tribune!\u201d he began, bending low, \u201cI fear to tell what now I bring\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnother mistake\u2014ha, Gesius?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I could persuade myself it is but a mistake, I would not be\nafraid.\u201d\n\n\u201cA crime then\u2014or, worse, a breach of duty. Thou mayst laugh at C\u00e6sar,\nor curse the gods, and live; but if the offence be to the eagles\u2014ah,\nthou knowest, Gesius\u2014go on!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is now about eight years since Valerius Gratus selected me to be\nkeeper of prisoners here in the Tower,\u201d said the man, deliberately. \u201cI\nremember the morning I entered upon the duties of my office. There had\nbeen a riot the day before, and fighting in the streets. We slew many\nJews, and suffered on our side. The affair came, it was said, of an\nattempt to assassinate Gratus, who had been knocked from his horse by a\ntile thrown from a roof. I found him sitting where you now sit, O\ntribune, his head swathed in bandages. He told me of my selection, and\ngave me these keys, numbered to correspond with the numbers of the\ncells; they were the badges of my office, he said, and not to be parted\nwith. There was a roll of parchment on the table. Calling me to him, he\nopened the roll. \u2018Here are maps of the cells,\u2019 said he. There were\nthree of them. \u2018This one,\u2019 he went on, \u2018shows the arrangement of the\nupper floor; this second one gives you the second floor; and this last\nis of the lower floor. I give them to you in trust.\u2019 I took them from\nhis hand, and he said, further, \u2018Now you have the keys and the maps; go\nimmediately, and acquaint yourself with the whole arrangement; visit\neach cell, and see to its condition. When anything is needed for the\nsecurity of a prisoner, order it according to your judgment, for you\nare the master under me, and no other.\u2019\n\n\u201cI saluted him, and turned to go away; he called me back. \u2018Ah, I\nforgot,\u2019 he said. \u2018Give me the map of the third floor.\u2019 I gave it to\nhim, and he spread it upon the table. \u2018Here, Gesius,\u2019 he said, \u2018see\nthis cell.\u2019 He laid his finger on the one numbered V. \u2018There are three\nmen confined in that cell, desperate characters, who by some means got\nhold of a state secret, and suffer for their curiosity, which\u2019\u2014he\nlooked at me severely\u2014\u2018in such matters is worse than a crime.\nAccordingly, they are blind and tongueless, and are placed there for\nlife. They shall have nothing but food and drink, to be given them\nthrough a hole, which you will find in the wall covered by a slide. Do\nyou hear, Gesius?\u2019 I made him answer. \u2018It is well,\u2019 he continued. \u2018One\nthing more which you shall not forget, or\u2019\u2014he looked at me\nthreateningly\u2014\u2018The door of their cell\u2014cell number V. on the same\nfloor\u2014this one, Gesius\u2019\u2014he put his finger on the particular cell to\nimpress my memory\u2014\u2018shall never be opened for any purpose, neither to\nlet one in nor out, not even yourself.\u2019 \u2018But if they die?\u2019 I asked. \u2018If\nthey die,\u2019 he said, \u2018the cell shall be their tomb. They were put there\nto die, and be lost. The cell is leprous. Do you understand?\u2019 With that\nhe let me go.\u201d\n\nGesius stopped, and from the breast of his tunic drew three parchments,\nall much yellowed by time and use; selecting one of them, he spread it\nupon the table before the tribune, saying, simply, \u201cThis is the lower\nfloor.\u201d\n\nThe whole company looked at\n\nTHE MAP\n\n   __________________________________________\n  |                                          |\n  |                 Passage                  |\n  |                                          |\n  |--][---+---][---+---][---+---][---+---][--|\n  |       |        |        |        |       |\n  |   V   |   IV   |   III  |   II   |   I   |\n  |_______|________|________|________|_______|\n\n\n\u201cThis is exactly, O tribune, as I had it from Gratus. See, there is\ncell number V.,\u201d said Gesius.\n\n\u201cI see,\u201d the tribune replied. \u201cGo on now. The cell was leprous, he\nsaid.\u201d\n\n\u201cI would like to ask you a question,\u201d remarked the keeper, modestly.\n\nThe tribune assented.\n\n\u201cHad I not a right, under the circumstances, to believe the map a true\none?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat else couldst thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it is not a true one.\u201d\n\nThe chief looked up surprised.\n\n\u201cIt is not a true one,\u201d the keeper repeated. \u201cIt shows but five cells\nupon that floor, while there are six.\u201d\n\n\u201cSix, sayest thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will show you the floor as it is\u2014or as I believe it to be.\u201d\n\nUpon a page of his tablets, Gesius drew the following diagram, and gave\nit to the tribune:\n\n   __________________________________________\n  |                                          |\n  |--][---+---][---+---][---+---][---+---][--|\n  |       |        |        |        |       |\n  |   V   |   IV   |   III  |   II   |   I   |\n  |--][---+--------+--------+--------+-------|\n  |                    VI                    |\n  |__________________________________________|\n\n\n\u201cThou hast done well,\u201d said the tribune, examining the drawing, and\nthinking the narrative at an end. \u201cI will have the map corrected, or,\nbetter, I will have a new one made, and given thee. Come for it in the\nmorning.\u201d\n\nSo saying, he arose.\n\n\u201cBut hear me further, O tribune.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow, Gesius, to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat which I have yet to tell will not wait.\u201d\n\nThe tribune good-naturedly resumed his chair.\n\n\u201cI will hurry,\u201d said the keeper, humbly, \u201conly let me ask another\nquestion. Had I not a right to believe Gratus in what he further told\nme as to the prisoners in cell number V.?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, it was thy duty to believe there were three prisoners in the\ncell\u2014prisoners of state\u2014blind and without tongues.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the keeper, \u201cthat was not true either.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d said the tribune, with returning interest.\n\n\u201cHear, and judge for yourself, O tribune. As required, I visited all\nthe cells, beginning with those on the first floor, and ending with\nthose on the lower. The order that the door of number V. should not be\nopened had been respected; through all the eight years food and drink\nfor three men had been passed through a hole in the wall. I went to the\ndoor yesterday, curious to see the wretches who, against all\nexpectation, had lived so long. The locks refused the key. We pulled a\nlittle, and the door fell down, rusted from its hinges. Going in, I\nfound but one man, old, blind, tongueless, and naked. His hair dropped\nin stiffened mats below his waist. His skin was like the parchment\nthere. He held his hands out, and the finger-nails curled and twisted\nlike the claws of a bird. I asked him where his companions were. He\nshook his head in denial. Thinking to find the others, we searched the\ncell. The floor was dry; so were the walls. If three men had been shut\nin there, and two of them had died, at least their bones would have\nendured.\u201d\n\n\u201cWherefore thou thinkest\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cI think, O tribune, there has been but one prisoner there in the eight\nyears.\u201d\n\nThe chief regarded the keeper sharply, and said, \u201cHave a care; thou art\nmore than saying Valerius lied.\u201d\n\nGesius bowed, but said, \u201cHe might have been mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, he was right,\u201d said the tribune, warmly. \u201cBy thine own statement\nhe was right. Didst thou not say but now that for eight years food and\ndrink had been furnished three men?\u201d\n\nThe bystanders approved the shrewdness of their chief; yet Gesius did\nnot seem discomfited.\n\n\u201cYou have but half the story, O tribune. When you have it all, you will\nagree with me. You know what I did with the man: that I sent him to the\nbath, and had him shorn and clothed, and then took him to the gate of\nthe Tower, and bade him go free. I washed my hands of him. To-day he\ncame back, and was brought to me. By signs and tears he at last made me\nunderstand he wished to return to his cell, and I so ordered. As they\nwere leading him off, he broke away and kissed my feet, and, by piteous\ndumb imploration, insisted I should go with him; and I went. The\nmystery of the three men stayed in my mind. I was not satisfied about\nit. Now I am glad I yielded to his entreaty.\u201d\n\nThe whole company at this point became very still.\n\n\u201cWhen we were in the cell again, and the prisoner knew it, he caught my\nhand eagerly, and led me to a hole like that through which we were\naccustomed to pass him his food. Though large enough to push your\nhelmet through, it escaped me yesterday. Still holding my hand, he put\nhis face to the hole and gave a beast-like cry. A sound came faintly\nback. I was astonished, and drew him away, and called out, \u2018Ho, here!\u2019\nAt first there was no answer. I called again, and received back these\nwords, \u2018Be thou praised, O Lord!\u2019 Yet more astonishing, O tribune, the\nvoice was a woman\u2019s. And I asked, \u2018Who are you?\u2019 and had reply, \u2018A\nwoman of Israel, entombed here with her daughter. Help us quickly, or\nwe die.\u2019 I told them to be of cheer, and hurried here to know your\nwill.\u201d\n\nThe tribune arose hastily.\n\n\u201cThou wert right, Gesius,\u201d he said, \u201cand I see now. The map was a lie,\nand so was the tale of the three men. There have been better Romans\nthan Valerius Gratus.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the keeper. \u201cI gleaned from the prisoner that he had\nregularly given the women of the food and drink he had received.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is accounted for,\u201d replied the tribune, and observing the\ncountenances of his friends, and reflecting how well it would be to\nhave witnesses, he added, \u201cLet us rescue the women. Come all.\u201d\n\nGesuis was pleased.\n\n\u201cWe will have to pierce the wall,\u201d he said. \u201cI found where a door had\nbeen, but it was filled solidly with stones and mortar.\u201d\n\nThe tribune stayed to say to a clerk, \u201cSend workmen after me with\ntools. Make haste; but hold the report, for I see it will have to be\ncorrected.\u201d\n\nIn a short time they were gone.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\n\u201cA woman of Israel, entombed here with her daughter. Help us quickly,\nor we die.\u201d\n\nSuch was the reply Gesius, the keeper, had from the cell which appears\non his amended map as VI. The reader, when he observed the answer, knew\nwho the unfortunates were, and, doubtless, said to himself, \u201cAt last\nthe mother of Ben-Hur, and Tirzah, his sister!\u201d\n\nAnd so it was.\n\nThe morning of their seizure, eight years before, they had been carried\nto the Tower, where Gratus proposed to put them out of the way. He had\nchosen the Tower for the purpose as more immediately in his own\nkeeping, and cell VI. because, first, it could be better lost than any\nother; and, secondly, it was infected with leprosy; for these prisoners\nwere not merely to be put in a safe place, but in a place to die. They\nwere, accordingly, taken down by slaves in the night-time, when there\nwere no witnesses of the deed; then, in completion of the savage task,\nthe same slaves walled up the door, after which they were themselves\nseparated, and sent away never to be heard of more. To save accusation,\nand, in the event of discovery, to leave himself such justification as\nmight be allowed in a distinction between the infliction of a\npunishment and the commission of a double murder, Gratus preferred\nsinking his victims where natural death was certain, though slow. That\nthey might linger along, he selected a convict who had been made blind\nand tongueless, and sank him in the only connecting cell, there to\nserve them with food and drink. Under no circumstances could the poor\nwretch tell the tale or identify either the prisoners or their\ndoomsman. So, with a cunning partly due to Messala, the Roman, under\ncolor of punishing a brood of assassins, smoothed a path to\nconfiscation of the estate of the Hurs, of which no portion ever\nreached the imperial coffers.\n\nAs the last step in the scheme, Gratus summarily removed the old keeper\nof the prisons; not because he knew what had been done\u2014for he did\nnot\u2014but because, knowing the underground floors as he did, it would be\nnext to impossible to keep the transaction from him. Then, with\nmasterly ingenuity, the procurator had new maps drawn for delivery to a\nnew keeper, with the omission, as we have seen, of cell VI. The\ninstructions given the latter, taken with the omission on the map,\naccomplished the design\u2014the cell and its unhappy tenants were all alike\nlost.\n\nWhat may be thought of the life of the mother and daughter during the\neight years must have relation to their culture and previous habits.\nConditions are pleasant or grievous to us according to our\nsensibilities. It is not extreme to say, if there was a sudden exit of\nall men from the world, heaven, as prefigured in the Christian idea,\nwould not be a heaven to the majority; on the other hand, neither would\nall suffer equally in the so-called Tophet. Cultivation has its\nbalances. As the mind is made intelligent, the capacity of the soul for\npure enjoyment is proportionally increased. Well, therefore, if it be\nsaved! If lost, however, alas that it ever had cultivation! its\ncapacity for enjoyment in the one case is the measure of its capacity\nto suffer in the other. Wherefore repentance must be something more\nthan mere remorse for sins; it comprehends a change of nature befitting\nheaven.\n\nWe repeat, to form an adequate idea of the suffering endured by the\nmother of Ben-Hur, the reader must think of her spirit and its\nsensibilities as much as, if not more than, of the conditions of the\nimmurement; the question being, not what the conditions were, but how\nshe was affected by them. And now we may be permitted to say it was in\nanticipation of this thought that the scene in the summer-house on the\nroof of the family palace was given so fully in the beginning of the\nSecond Book of our story. So, too, to be helpful when the inquiry\nshould come up, we ventured the elaborate description of the palace of\nthe Hurs.\n\nIn other words, let the serene, happy, luxurious life in the princely\nhouse be recalled and contrasted with this existence in the lower\ndungeon of the Tower of Antonia; then if the reader, in his effort to\nrealize the misery of the woman, persists in mere reference to\nconditions physical, he cannot go amiss; as he is a lover of his kind,\ntender of heart, he will be melted with much sympathy. But will he go\nfurther; will he more than sympathize with her; will he share her agony\nof mind and spirit; will he at least try to measure it\u2014let him recall\nher as she discoursed to her son of God and nations and heroes; one\nmoment a philosopher, the next a teacher, and all the time a mother.\n\nWould you hurt a man keenest, strike at his self-love; would you hurt a\nwoman worst, aim at her affections.\n\nWith quickened remembrance of these unfortunates\u2014remembrance of them as\nthey were\u2014let us go down and see them as they are.\n\nThe cell VI. was in form as Gesius drew it on his map. Of its\ndimensions but little idea can be had; enough that it was a roomy,\nroughened interior, with ledged and broken walls and floor.\n\nIn the beginning, the site of the Macedonian Castle was separated from\nthe site of the Temple by a narrow but deep cliff somewhat in shape of\na wedge. The workmen, wishing to hew out a series of chambers, made\ntheir entry in the north face of the cleft, and worked in, leaving a\nceiling of the natural stone; delving farther, they executed the cells\nV., IV., III., II., I., with no connection with number VI. except\nthrough number V. In like manner, they constructed the passage and\nstairs to the floor above. The process of the work was precisely that\nresorted to in carving out the Tombs of the Kings, yet to be seen a\nshort distance north of Jerusalem; only when the cutting was done, cell\nVI. was enclosed on its outer side by a wall of prodigious stones, in\nwhich, for ventilation, narrow apertures were left bevelled like modern\nport-holes. Herod, when he took hold of the Temple and Tower, put a\nfacing yet more massive upon this outer wall, and shut up all the\napertures but one, which yet admitted a little vitalizing air, and a\nray of light not nearly strong enough to redeem the room from darkness.\n\nSuch was cell VI.\n\nStartle not now!\n\nThe description of the blind and tongueless wretch just liberated from\ncell V. may be accepted to break the horror of what is coming.\n\nThe two women are grouped close by the aperture; one is seated, the\nother is half reclining against her; there is nothing between them and\nthe bare rock. The light, slanting upwards, strikes them with ghastly\neffect, and we cannot avoid seeing they are without vesture or\ncovering. At the same time we are helped to the knowledge that love is\nthere yet, for the two are in each other\u2019s arms. Riches take wings,\ncomforts vanish, hope withers away, but love stays with us. Love is\nGod.\n\nWhere the two are thus grouped the stony floor is polished shining\nsmooth. Who shall say how much of the eight years they have spent in\nthat space there in front of the aperture, nursing their hope of rescue\nby that timid yet friendly ray of light? When the brightness came\ncreeping in, they knew it was dawn; when it began to fade, they knew\nthe world was hushing for the night, which could not be anywhere so\nlong and utterly dark as with them. The world! Through that crevice, as\nif it were broad and high as a king\u2019s gate, they went to the world in\nthought, and passed the weary time going up and down as spirits go,\nlooking and asking, the one for her son, the other for her brother. On\nthe seas they sought him, and on the islands of the seas; to-day he was\nin this city, to-morrow in that other; and everywhere, and at all\ntimes, he was a flitting sojourner; for, as they lived waiting for him,\nhe lived looking for them. How often their thoughts passed each other\nin the endless search, his coming, theirs going! It was such sweet\nflattery for them to say to each other, \u201cWhile he lives, we shall not\nbe forgotten; as long as he remembers us, there is hope!\u201d The strength\none can eke from little, who knows till he has been subjected to the\ntrial?\n\nOur recollections of them in former days enjoin us to be respectful;\ntheir sorrows clothe them with sanctity. Without going too near, across\nthe dungeon, we see they have undergone a change of appearance not to\nbe accounted for by time or long confinement. The mother was beautiful\nas a woman, the daughter beautiful as a child; not even love could say\nso much now. Their hair is long, unkempt, and strangely white; they\nmake us shrink and shudder with an indefinable repulsion, though the\neffect may be from an illusory glozing of the light glimmering dismally\nthrough the unhealthy murk; or they may be enduring the tortures of\nhunger and thirst, not having had to eat or drink since their servant,\nthe convict, was taken away\u2014that is, since yesterday.\n\nTirzah, reclining against her mother in half embrace, moans piteously.\n\n\u201cBe quiet, Tirzah. They will come. God is good. We have been mindful of\nhim, and forgotten not to pray at every sounding of the trumpets over\nin the Temple. The light, you see, is still bright; the sun is standing\nin the south sky yet, and it is hardly more than the seventh hour.\nSomebody will come to us. Let us have faith. God is good.\u201d\n\nThus the mother. The words were simple and effective, although, eight\nyears being now to be added to the thirteen she had attained when last\nwe saw her, Tirzah was no longer a child.\n\n\u201cI will try and be strong, mother,\u201d she said. \u201cYour suffering must be\nas great as mine; and I do so want to live for you and my brother! But\nmy tongue burns, my lips scorch. I wonder where he is, and if he will\never, ever find us!\u201d\n\nThere is something in the voices that strikes us singularly\u2014an\nunexpected tone, sharp, dry, metallic, unnatural.\n\nThe mother draws the daughter closer to her breast, and says, \u201cI\ndreamed about him last night, and saw him as plainly, Tirzah, as I see\nyou. We must believe in dreams, you know, because our fathers did. The\nLord spoke to them so often in that way. I thought we were in the\nWomen\u2019s Court just before the Gate Beautiful; there were many women\nwith us; and he came and stood in the shade of the Gate, and looked\nhere and there, at this one and that. My heart beat strong. I knew he\nwas looking for us, and stretched my arms to him, and ran, calling him.\nHe heard me and saw me, but he did not know me. In a moment he was\ngone.\u201d\n\n\u201cWould it not be so, mother, if we were to meet him in fact? We are so\nchanged.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt might be so; but\u2014\u201d The mother\u2019s head droops, and her face knits as\nwith a wrench of pain; recovering, however, she goes on\u2014\u201cbut we could\nmake ourselves known to him.\u201d\n\nTirzah tossed her arms, and moaned again.\n\n\u201cWater, mother, water, though but a drop.\u201d\n\nThe mother stares around in blank helplessness. She has named God so\noften, and so often promised in his name, the repetition is beginning\nto have a mocking effect upon herself. A shadow passes before her\ndimming the dim light, and she is brought down to think of death as\nvery near, waiting to come in as her faith goes out. Hardly knowing\nwhat she does, speaking aimlessly, because speak she must, she says\nagain,\n\n\u201cPatience, Tirzah; they are coming\u2014they are almost here.\u201d\n\nShe thought she heard a sound over by the little trap in the\npartition-wall through which they held all their actual communication\nwith the world. And she was not mistaken. A moment, and the cry of the\nconvict rang through the cell. Tirzah heard it also; and they both\narose, still keeping hold of each other.\n\n\u201cPraised be the Lord forever!\u201d exclaimed the mother, with the fervor of\nrestored faith and hope.\n\n\u201cHo, there!\u201d they heard next; and then, \u201cWho are you?\u201d\n\nThe voice was strange. What matter? Except from Tirzah, they were the\nfirst and only words the mother had heard in eight years. The revulsion\nwas mighty\u2014from death to life\u2014and so instantly!\n\n\u201cA woman of Israel, entombed here with her daughter. Help us quickly,\nor we die.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe of cheer. I will return.\u201d\n\nThe women sobbed aloud. They were found; help was coming. From wish to\nwish hope flew as the twittering swallows fly. They were found; they\nwould be released. And restoration would follow\u2014restoration to all they\nhad lost\u2014home, society, property, son and brother! The scanty light\nglozed them with the glory of day, and, forgetful of pain and thirst\nand hunger, and of the menace of death, they sank upon the floor and\ncried, keeping fast hold of each other the while.\n\nAnd this time they had not long to wait. Gesius, the keeper, told his\ntale methodically, but finished it at last. The tribune was prompt.\n\n\u201cWithin there!\u201d he shouted through the trap.\n\n\u201cHere!\u201d said the mother, rising.\n\nDirectly she heard another sound in another place, as of blows on the\nwall\u2014blows quick, ringing, and delivered with iron tools. She did not\nspeak, nor did Tirzah, but they listened, well knowing the meaning of\nit all\u2014that a way to liberty was being made for them. So men a long\ntime buried in deep mines hear the coming of rescuers, heralded by\nthrust of bar and beat of pick, and answer gratefully with\nheart-throbs, their eyes fixed upon the spot whence the sounds proceed;\nand they cannot look away, lest the work should cease, and they be\nreturned to despair.\n\nThe arms outside were strong, the hands skillful, the will good. Each\ninstant the blows sounded more plainly; now and then a piece fell with\na crash; and liberty came nearer and nearer. Presently the workmen\ncould be heard speaking. Then\u2014O happiness!\u2014through a crevice flashed a\nred ray of torches. Into the darkness it cut incisive as diamond\nbrilliance, beautiful as if from a spear of the morning.\n\n\u201cIt is he, mother, it is he! He has found us at last!\u201d cried Tirzah,\nwith the quickened fancy of youth.\n\nBut the mother answered meekly, \u201cGod is good!\u201d\n\nA block fell inside, and another\u2014then a great mass, and the door was\nopen. A man grimed with mortar and stone-dust stepped in, and stopped,\nholding a torch over his head. Two or three others followed with\ntorches, and stood aside for the tribune to enter.\n\nRespect for women is not all a conventionality, for it is the best\nproof of their proper nature. The tribune stopped, because they fled\nfrom him\u2014not with fear, be it said, but shame; nor yet, O reader, from\nshame alone! From the obscurity of their partial hiding he heard these\nwords, the saddest, most dreadful, most utterly despairing of the human\ntongue:\n\n\u201cCome not near us\u2014unclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nThe men flared their torches while they stared at each other.\n\n\u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d came from the corner again, a slow tremulous wail\nexceedingly sorrowful. With such a cry we can imagine a spirit\nvanishing from the gates of Paradise, looking back the while.\n\nSo the widow and mother performed her duty, and in the moment realized\nthat the freedom she had prayed for and dreamed of, fruit of scarlet\nand gold seen afar, was but an apple of Sodom in the hand.\n\nSHE AND TIRZAH WERE\u2014LEPERS!\n\nPossibly the reader does not know all the word means. Let him be told\nit with reference to the Law of that time, only a little modified in\nthis.\n\n\u201cThese four are accounted as dead\u2014the blind, the leper, the poor, and\nthe childless.\u201d Thus the Talmud.\n\nThat is, to be a leper was to be treated as dead\u2014to be excluded from\nthe city as a corpse; to be spoken to by the best beloved and most\nloving only at a distance; to dwell with none but lepers; to be utterly\nunprivileged; to be denied the rites of the Temple and the synagogue;\nto go about in rent garments and with covered mouth, except when\ncrying, \u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d to find home in the wilderness or in\nabandoned tombs; to become a materialized specter of Hinnom and\nGehenna; to be at all times less a living offence to others than a\nbreathing torment to self; afraid to die, yet without hope except in\ndeath.\n\nOnce\u2014she might not tell the day or the year, for down in the haunted\nhell even time was lost\u2014once the mother felt a dry scurf in the palm of\nher right hand, a trifle which she tried to wash away. It clung to the\nmember pertinaciously; yet she thought but little of the sign till\nTirzah complained that she, too, was attacked in the same way. The\nsupply of water was scant, and they denied themselves drink that they\nmight use it as a curative. At length the whole hand was attacked; the\nskin cracked open, the fingernails loosened from the flesh. There was\nnot much pain withal, chiefly a steadily increasing discomfort. Later\ntheir lips began to parch and seam. One day the mother, who was cleanly\nto godliness, and struggled against the impurities of the dungeon with\nall ingenuity, thinking the enemy was taking hold on Tirzah\u2019s face, led\nher to the light, and, looking with the inspiration of a terrible\ndread, lo! the young girl\u2019s eyebrows were white as snow.\n\nOh, the anguish of that assurance!\n\nThe mother sat awhile speechless, motionless, paralyzed of soul, and\ncapable of but one thought\u2014leprosy, leprosy!\n\nWhen she began to think, mother-like, it was not of herself, but her\nchild, and, mother-like, her natural tenderness turned to courage, and\nshe made ready for the last sacrifice of perfect heroism. She buried\nher knowledge in her heart; hopeless herself, she redoubled her\ndevotion to Tirzah, and with wonderful ingenuity\u2014wonderful chiefly in\nits very inexhaustibility\u2014continued to keep the daughter ignorant of\nwhat they were beset with, and even hopeful that it was nothing. She\nrepeated her little games, and retold her stories, and invented new\nones, and listened with ever so much pleasure to the songs she would\nhave from Tirzah, while on her own wasting lips the psalms of the\nsinging king and their race served to bring soothing of forgetfulness,\nand keep alive in them both the recollection of the God who would seem\nto have abandoned them\u2014the world not more lightly or utterly.\n\nSlowly, steadily, with horrible certainty, the disease spread, after a\nwhile bleaching their heads white, eating holes in their lips and\neyelids, and covering their bodies with scales; then it fell to their\nthroats shrilling their voices, and to their joints, hardening the\ntissues and cartilages\u2014slowly, and, as the mother well knew, past\nremedy, it was affecting their lungs and arteries and bones, at each\nadvance making the sufferers more and more loathsome; and so it would\ncontinue till death, which might be years before them.\n\nAnother day of dread at length came\u2014the day the mother, under impulsion\nof duty, at last told Tirzah the name of their ailment; and the two, in\nagony of despair, prayed that the end might come quickly.\n\nStill, as is the force of habit, these so afflicted grew in time not\nmerely to speak composedly of their disease; they beheld the hideous\ntransformation of their persons as of course, and in despite clung to\nexistence. One tie to earth remained to them; unmindful of their own\nloneliness, they kept up a certain spirit by talking and dreaming of\nBen-Hur. The mother promised reunion with him to the sister, and she to\nthe mother, not doubting, either of them, that he was equally faithful\nto them, and would be equally happy of the meeting. And with the\nspinning and respinning of this slender thread they found pleasure, and\nexcused their not dying. In such manner as we have seen, they were\nsolacing themselves the moment Gesius called them, at the end of twelve\nhours\u2019 fasting and thirst.\n\nThe torches flashed redly through the dungeon, and liberty was come.\n\u201cGod is good,\u201d the widow cried\u2014not for what had been, O reader, but for\nwhat was. In thankfulness for present mercy, nothing so becomes us as\nlosing sight of past ills.\n\nThe tribune came directly; then in the corner to which she had fled,\nsuddenly a sense of duty smote the elder of the women, and straightway\nthe awful warning\u2014\n\n\u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nAh, the pang the effort to acquit herself of that duty cost the mother!\nNot all the selfishness of joy over the prospect could keep her blind\nto the consequences of release, now that it was at hand. The old happy\nlife could never be again. If she went near the house called home, it\nwould be to stop at the gate and cry, \u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d She must go\nabout with the yearnings of love alive in her breast strong as ever,\nand more sensitive even, because return in kind could not be. The boy\nof whom she had so constantly thought, and with all sweet promises such\nas mothers find their purest delight in, must, at meeting her, stand\nafar off. If he held out his hands to her, and called \u201cMother, mother,\u201d\nfor very love of him she must answer, \u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d And this\nother child, before whom, in want of other covering, she was spreading\nher long tangled locks, bleached unnaturally white\u2014ah! that she was she\nmust continue, sole partner of her blasted remainder of life. Yet, O\nreader, the brave woman accepted the lot, and took up the cry which had\nbeen its sign immemorially, and which thenceforward was to be her\nsalutation without change\u2014\u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nThe tribune heard it with a tremor, but kept his place.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cTwo women dying of hunger and thirst. Yet\u201d\u2014the mother did not\nfalter\u2014\u201ccome not near us, nor touch the floor or the wall. Unclean,\nunclean!\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me thy story, woman\u2014thy name, and when thou wert put here, and by\nwhom, and for what.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was once in this city of Jerusalem a Prince Ben-Hur, the friend\nof all generous Romans, and who had C\u00e6sar for his friend. I am his\nwidow, and this one with me is his child. How may I tell you for what\nwe were sunk here, when I do not know, unless it was because we were\nrich? Valerius Gratus can tell you who our enemy was, and when our\nimprisonment began. I cannot. See to what we have been reduced\u2014oh, see,\nand have pity!\u201d\n\nThe air was heavy with the pest and the smoke of the torches, yet the\nRoman called one of the torch-bearers to his side, and wrote the answer\nnearly word for word. It was terse, and comprehensive, containing at\nonce a history, an accusation, and a prayer. No common person could\nhave made it, and he could not but pity and believe.\n\n\u201cThou shalt have relief, woman,\u201d he said, closing the tablets. \u201cI will\nsend thee food and drink.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd raiment, and purifying water, we pray you, O generous Roman!\u201d\n\n\u201cAs thou wilt,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cGod is good,\u201d said the widow, sobbing. \u201cMay his peace abide with you!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd, further,\u201d he added, \u201cI cannot see thee again. Make preparation,\nand to-night I will have thee taken to the gate of the Tower, and set\nfree. Thou knowest the law. Farewell.\u201d\n\nHe spoke to the men, and went out the door.\n\nVery shortly some slaves came to the cell with a large gurglet of\nwater, a basin and napkins, a platter with bread and meat, and some\ngarments of women\u2019s wear; and, setting them down within reach of the\nprisoners, they ran away.\n\nAbout the middle of the first watch, the two were conducted to the\ngate, and turned into the street. So the Roman quit himself of them,\nand in the city of their fathers they were once more free.\n\nUp to the stars, twinkling merrily as of old, they looked; then they\nasked themselves,\n\n\u201cWhat next? and where to?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nAbout the hour Gesius, the keeper, made his appearance before the\ntribune in the Tower of Antonia, a footman was climbing the eastern\nface of Mount Olivet. The road was rough and dusty, and vegetation on\nthat side burned brown, for it was the dry season in Judea. Well for\nthe traveller that he had youth and strength, not to speak of the cool,\nflowing garments with which he was clothed.\n\nHe proceeded slowly, looking often to his right and left; not with the\nvexed, anxious expression which marks a man going forward uncertain of\nthe way, but rather the air with which one approaches as old\nacquaintance after a long separation\u2014half of pleasure, half of inquiry;\nas if he were saying, \u201cI am glad to be with you again; let me see in\nwhat you are changed.\u201d\n\nAs he arose higher, he sometimes paused to look behind him over the\ngradually widening view terminating in the mountains of Moab; but when\nat length he drew near the summit, he quickened his step, unmindful of\nfatigue, and hurried on without pause or turning of the face. On the\nsummit\u2014to reach which he bent his steps somewhat right of the beaten\npath\u2014he came to a dead stop, arrested as if by a strong hand. Then one\nmight have seen his eyes dilate, his cheeks flush, his breath quicken,\neffects all of one bright sweeping glance at what lay before him.\n\nThe traveller, good reader, was no other than Ben-Hur; the spectacle,\nJerusalem.\n\nNot the Holy City of to-day, but the Holy City as left by Herod\u2014the\nHoly City of the Christ. Beautiful yet, as seen from old Olivet, what\nmust it have been then?\n\nBen-Hur betook him to a stone and sat down, and, stripping his head of\nthe close white handkerchief which served it for covering, made the\nsurvey at leisure.\n\nThe same has been done often since by a great variety of persons, under\ncircumstances surpassingly singular\u2014by the son of Vespasian, by the\nIslamite, by the Crusader, conquerors all of them; by many a pilgrim\nfrom the great New World, which waited discovery nearly fifteen hundred\nyears after the time of our story; but of the multitude probably not\none has taken that view with sensations more keenly poignant, more\nsadly sweet, more proudly bitter, than Ben-Hur. He was stirred by\nrecollections of his countrymen, their triumphs and vicissitudes, their\nhistory the history of God. The city was of their building, at once a\nlasting testimony of their crimes and devotion, their weakness and\ngenius, their religion and their irreligion. Though he had seen Rome to\nfamiliarity, he was gratified. The sight filled a measure of pride\nwhich would have made him drunk with vainglory but for the thought,\nprincely as the property was, it did not any longer belong to his\ncountrymen; the worship in the Temple was by permission of strangers;\nthe hill where David dwelt was a marbled cheat\u2014an office in which the\nchosen of the Lord were wrung and wrung for taxes, and scourged for\nvery deathlessness of faith. These, however, were pleasures and griefs\nof patriotism common to every Jew of the period; in addition, Ben-Hur\nbrought with him a personal history which would not out of mind for\nother consideration whatever, which the spectacle served only to\nfreshen and vivify.\n\nA country of hills changes but little; where the hills are of rock, it\nchanges not at all. The scene Ben-Hur beheld is the same now, except as\nrespects the city. The failure is in the handiwork of man alone.\n\nThe sun dealt more kindly by the west side of Olivet than by the east,\nand men were certainly more loving towards it. The vines with which it\nwas partially clad, and the sprinkling of trees, chiefly figs and old\nwild olives, were comparatively green. Down to the dry bed of the\nCedron the verdure extended, a refreshment to the vision; there Olivet\nceased and Moriah began\u2014a wall of bluff boldness, white as snow,\nfounded by Solomon, completed by Herod. Up, up the wall the eye climbed\ncourse by course of the ponderous rocks composing it\u2014up to Solomon\u2019s\nPorch, which was as the pedestal of the monument, the hill being the\nplinth. Lingering there a moment, the eye resumed its climbing, going\nnext to the Gentiles\u2019 Court, then to the Israelites\u2019 Court, then to the\nWomen\u2019s Court, then to the Court of the Priests, each a pillared tier\nof white marble, one above the other in terraced retrocession; over\nthem all a crown of crowns infinitely sacred, infinitely beautiful,\nmajestic in proportions, effulgent with beaten gold\u2014lo! the Tent, the\nTabernacle, the Holy of Holies. The Ark was not there, but Jehovah\nwas\u2014in the faith of every child of Israel he was there a personal\nPresence. As a temple, as a monument, there was nowhere anything of\nman\u2019s building to approach that superlative apparition. Now, not a\nstone of it remains above another. Who shall rebuild that building?\nWhen shall the rebuilding be begun? So asks every pilgrim who has stood\nwhere Ben-Hur was\u2014he asks, knowing the answer is in the bosom of God,\nwhose secrets are not least marvellous in their well-keeping. And then\nthe third question, What of him who foretold the ruin which has so\ncertainly befallen? God? Or man of God? Or\u2014enough that the question is\nfor us to answer.\n\nAnd still Ben-Hur\u2019s eyes climbed on and up\u2014up over the roof of the\nTemple, to the hill Zion, consecrated to sacred memories, inseparable\nfrom the anointed kings. He knew the Cheesemonger\u2019s Valley dipped deep\ndown between Moriah and Zion; that it was spanned by the Xystus; that\nthere were gardens and palaces in its depths; but over them all his\nthoughts soared with his vision to the great grouping on the royal\nhill\u2014the house of Caiaphas, the Central Synagogue, the Roman\nPraetorium, Hippicus the eternal, and the sad but mighty cenotaphs\nPhasaelus and Mariamne\u2014all relieved against Gareb, purpling in the\ndistance. And when midst them he singled out the palace of Herod, what\ncould he but think of the King Who Was Coming, to whom he was himself\ndevoted, whose path he had undertaken to smooth, whose empty hands he\ndreamed of filling? And forward ran his fancy to the day the new King\nshould come to claim his own and take possession of it\u2014of Moriah and\nits Temple; of Zion and its towers and palaces; of Antonia, frowning\ndarkly there just to the right of the Temple; of the new unwalled city\nof Bezetha; of the millions of Israel to assemble with palm-branches\nand banners, to sing rejoicing because the Lord had conquered and given\nthem the world.\n\nMen speak of dreaming as if it were a phenomenon of night and sleep.\nThey should know better. All results achieved by us are self-promised,\nand all self-promises are made in dreams awake. Dreaming is the relief\nof labor, the wine that sustains us in act. We learn to love labor, not\nfor itself, but for the opportunity it furnishes for dreaming, which is\nthe great under-monotone of real life, unheard, unnoticed, because of\nits constancy. Living is dreaming. Only in the grave are there no\ndreams. Let no one smile at Ben-Hur for doing that which he himself\nwould have done at that time and place under the same circumstances.\n\nThe sun stooped low in its course. Awhile the flaring disk seemed to\nperch itself on the far summit of the mountains in the west, brazening\nall the sky above the city, and rimming the walls and towers with the\nbrightness of gold. Then it disappeared as with a plunge. The quiet\nturned Ben-Hur\u2019s thought homeward. There was a point in the sky a\nlittle north of the peerless front of the Holy of Holies upon which he\nfixed his gaze: under it, straight as a leadline would have dropped,\nlay his father\u2019s house, if yet the house endured.\n\nThe mellowing influences of the evening mellowed his feelings, and,\nputting his ambitions aside, he thought of the duty that was bringing\nhim to Jerusalem.\n\nOut in the desert while with Ilderim, looking for strong places and\nacquainting himself with it generally, as a soldier studies a country\nin which he has projected a campaign, a messenger came one evening with\nthe news that Gratus was removed, and Pontius Pilate sent to take his\nplace.\n\nMessala was disabled and believed him dead; Gratus was powerless and\ngone; why should Ben-Hur longer defer the search for his mother and\nsister? There was nothing to fear now. If he could not himself see into\nthe prisons of Judea, he could examine them with the eyes of others. If\nthe lost were found, Pilate could have no motive in holding them in\ncustody\u2014none, at least, which could not be overcome by purchase. If\nfound, he would carry them to a place of safety, and then, in calmer\nmind, his conscience at rest, this one first duty done, he could give\nhimself more entirely to the King Who Was Coming. He resolved at once.\nThat night he counselled with Ilderim, and obtained his assent. Three\nArabs came with him to Jericho, where he left them and the horses, and\nproceeded alone and on foot. Malluch was to meet him in Jerusalem.\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s scheme, be it observed, was as yet a generality.\n\nIn view of the future, it was advisable to keep himself in hiding from\nthe authorities, particularly the Romans. Malluch was shrewd and\ntrusty; the very man to charge with the conduct of the investigation.\n\nWhere to begin was the first point. He had no clear idea about it. His\nwish was to commence with the Tower of Antonia. Tradition not of long\nstanding planted the gloomy pile over a labyrinth of prison-cells,\nwhich, more even than the strong garrison, kept it a terror to the\nJewish fancy. A burial, such as his people had been subjected to, might\nbe possible there. Besides, in such a strait, the natural inclination\nis to start search at the place where the loss occurred, and he could\nnot forget that his last sight of the loved ones was as the guard\npushed them along the street in the direction to the Tower. If they\nwere not there now, but had been, some record of the fact must remain,\na clew which had only to be followed faithfully to the end.\n\nUnder this inclination, moreover, there was a hope which he could not\nforego. From Simonides he knew Amrah, the Egyptian nurse, was living.\nIt will be remembered, doubtless, that the faithful creature, the\nmorning the calamity overtook the Hurs, broke from the guard and ran\nback into the palace, where, along with other chattels, she had been\nsealed up. During the years following, Simonides kept her supplied; so\nshe was there now, sole occupant of the great house, which, with all\nhis offers, Gratus had not been able to sell. The story of its rightful\nowners sufficed to secure the property from strangers, whether\npurchasers or mere occupants. People going to and fro passed it with\nwhispers. Its reputation was that of a haunted house; derived probably\nfrom the infrequent glimpses of poor old Amrah, sometimes on the roof,\nsometimes in a latticed window. Certainly no more constant spirit ever\nabided than she; nor was there ever a tenement so shunned and fitted\nfor ghostly habitation. Now, if he could get to her, Ben-Hur fancied\nshe could help him to knowledge which, though faint, might yet be\nserviceable. Anyhow, sight of her in that place, so endeared by\nrecollection, would be to him a pleasure next to finding the objects of\nhis solicitude.\n\nSo, first of all things, he would go to the old house, and look for\nAmrah.\n\nThus resolved, he arose shortly after the going-down of the sun, and\nbegan descent of the Mount by the road which, from the summit, bends a\nlittle north of east. Down nearly at the foot, close by the bed of the\nCedron, he came to the intersection with the road leading south to the\nvillage of Siloam and the pool of that name. There he fell in with a\nherdsman driving some sheep to market. He spoke to the man, and joined\nhim, and in his company passed by Gethsemane on into the city through\nthe Fish Gate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nIt was dark when, parting with the drover inside the gate, Ben-Hur\nturned into a narrow lane leading to the south. A few of the people\nwhom he met saluted him. The bouldering of the pavement was rough. The\nhouses on both sides were low, dark, and cheerless; the doors all\nclosed: from the roofs, occasionally, he heard women crooning to\nchildren. The loneliness of his situation, the night, the uncertainty\ncloaking the object of his coming, all affected him cheerlessly. With\nfeelings sinking lower and lower, he came directly to the deep\nreservoir now known as the Pool of Bethesda, in which the water\nreflected the over-pending sky. Looking up, he beheld the northern wall\nof the Tower of Antonia, a black frowning heap reared into the dim\nsteel-gray sky. He halted as if challenged by a threatening sentinel.\n\nThe Tower stood up so high, and seemed so vast, resting apparently upon\nfoundations so sure, that he was constrained to acknowledge its\nstrength. If his mother were there in living burial, what could he do\nfor her? By the strong hand, nothing. An army might beat the stony face\nwith ballista and ram, and be laughed at. Against him alone, the\ngigantic southeast turret looked down in the self-containment of a\nhill. And he thought, cunning is so easily baffled; and God, always the\nlast resort of the helpless\u2014God is sometimes so slow to act!\n\nIn doubt and misgiving, he turned into the street in front of the\nTower, and followed it slowly on to the west.\n\nOver in Bezetha he knew there was a khan, where it was his intention to\nseek lodging while in the city; but just now he could not resist the\nimpulse to go home. His heart drew him that way.\n\nThe old formal salutation which he received from the few people who\npassed him had never sounded so pleasantly. Presently, all the eastern\nsky began to silver and shine, and objects before invisible in the\nwest\u2014chiefly the tall towers on Mount Zion\u2014emerged as from a shadowy\ndepth, and put on spectral distinctness, floating, as it were, above\nthe yawning blackness of the valley below, very castles in the air.\n\nHe came, at length, to his father\u2019s house.\n\nOf those who read this page, some there will be to divine his feelings\nwithout prompting. They are such as had happy homes in their youth, no\nmatter how far that may have been back in time\u2014homes which are now the\nstarting-points of all recollection; paradises from which they went\nforth in tears, and which they would now return to, if they could, as\nlittle children; places of laughter and singing, and associations\ndearer than any or all the triumphs of after-life.\n\nAt the gate on the north side of the old house Ben-Hur stopped. In the\ncorners the wax used in the sealing-up was still plainly seen, and\nacross the valves was the board with the inscription\u2014\n\n\u201cTHIS IS THE PROPERTY OF\nTHE EMPEROR.\u201d\n\nNobody had gone in or out the gate since the dreadful day of the\nseparation. Should he knock as of old? It was useless, he knew; yet he\ncould not resist the temptation. Amrah might hear, and look out of one\nof the windows on that side. Taking a stone, he mounted the broad stone\nstep, and tapped three times. A dull echo replied. He tried again,\nlouder than before; and again, pausing each time to listen. The silence\nwas mocking. Retiring into the street, he watched the windows; but\nthey, too, were lifeless. The parapet on the roof was defined sharply\nagainst the brightening sky; nothing could have stirred upon it unseen\nby him, and nothing did stir.\n\nFrom the north side he passed to the west, where there were four\nwindows which he watched long and anxiously, but with as little effect.\nAt times his heart swelled with impotent wishes; at others, he trembled\nat the deceptions of his own fancy. Amrah made no sign\u2014not even a ghost\nstirred.\n\nSilently, then, he stole round to the south. There, too, the gate was\nsealed and inscribed. The mellow splendor of the August moon, pouring\nover the crest of Olivet, since termed the Mount of Offence, brought\nthe lettering boldly out; and he read, and was filled with rage. All he\ncould do was to wrench the board from its nailing, and hurl it into the\nditch. Then he sat upon the step, and prayed for the New King, and that\nhis coming might be hastened. As his blood cooled, insensibly he\nyielded to the fatigue of long travel in the summer heat, and sank down\nlower, and, at last, slept.\n\nAbout that time two women came down the street from the direction of\nthe Tower of Antonia, approaching the palace of the Hurs. They advanced\nstealthily, with timid steps, pausing often to listen. At the corner of\nthe rugged pile, one said to the other, in a low voice,\n\n\u201cThis is it, Tirzah!\u201d\n\nAnd Tirzah, after a look, caught her mother\u2019s hand, and leaned upon her\nheavily, sobbing, but silent.\n\n\u201cLet us go on, my child, because\u201d\u2014the mother hesitated and trembled;\nthen, with an effort to be calm, continued\u2014\u201cbecause when morning comes\nthey will put us out of the gate of the city to\u2014return no more.\u201d\n\nTirzah sank almost to the stones.\n\n\u201cAh, yes!\u201d she said, between sobs; \u201cI forgot. I had the feeling of\ngoing home. But we are lepers, and have no homes; we belong to the\ndead!\u201d\n\nThe mother stooped and raised her tenderly, saying, \u201cWe have nothing to\nfear. Let us go on.\u201d\n\nIndeed, lifting their empty hands, they could have run upon a legion\nand put it to flight.\n\nAnd, creeping in close to the rough wall, they glided on, like two\nghosts, till they came to the gate, before which they also paused.\nSeeing the board, they stepped upon the stone in the scarce cold tracks\nof Ben-Hur, and read the inscription\u2014\u201cThis is the Property of the\nEmperor.\u201d\n\nThen the mother clasped her hands, and, with upraised eyes, moaned in\nunutterable anguish.\n\n\u201cWhat now, mother? You scare me!\u201d\n\nAnd the answer was, presently, \u201cOh, Tirzah, the poor are dead! He is\ndead!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho, mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour brother! They took everything from him\u2014everything\u2014even this\nhouse!\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor!\u201d said Tirzah, vacantly.\n\n\u201cHe will never be able to help us.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd then, mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow\u2014to-morrow, my child, we must find a seat by the wayside, and\nbeg alms as the lepers do; beg, or\u2014\u201d\n\nTirzah leaned upon her again, and said, whispering, \u201cLet us\u2014let us\ndie!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d the mother said, firmly. \u201cThe Lord has appointed our times, and\nwe are believers in the Lord. We will wait on him even in this. Come\naway!\u201d\n\nShe caught Tirzah\u2019s hand as she spoke, and hastened to the west corner\nof the house, keeping close to the wall. No one being in sight there,\nthey kept on to the next corner, and shrank from the moonlight, which\nlay exceedingly bright over the whole south front, and along a part of\nthe street. The mother\u2019s will was strong. Casting one look back and up\nto the windows on the west side, she stepped out into the light,\ndrawing Tirzah after her; and the extent of their affliction was then\nto be seen\u2014on their lips and cheeks, in their bleared eyes, in their\ncracked hands; especially in the long, snaky locks, stiff with\nloathsome ichor, and, like their eyebrows, ghastly white. Nor was it\npossible to have told which was mother, which daughter; both alike\nseemed witch-like old.\n\n\u201cHist!\u201d said the mother. \u201cThere is some one lying upon the step\u2014a man.\nLet us go round him.\u201d\n\nThey crossed to the opposite side of the street quickly, and, in the\nshade there, moved on till before the gate, where they stopped.\n\n\u201cHe is asleep, Tirzah!\u201d\n\nThe man was very still.\n\n\u201cStay here, and I will try the gate.\u201d\n\nSo saying, the mother stole noiselessly across, and ventured to touch\nthe wicket; she never knew if it yielded, for that moment the man\nsighed, and, turning restlessly, shifted the handkerchief on his head\nin such manner that the face was left upturned and fair in the broad\nmoonlight. She looked down at it and started; then looked again,\nstooping a little, and arose and clasped her hands and raised her eyes\nto heaven in mute appeal. An instant so, and she ran back to Tirzah.\n\n\u201cAs the Lord liveth, the man is my son\u2014thy brother!\u201d she said, in an\nawe-inspiring whisper.\n\n\u201cMy brother?\u2014Judah?\u201d\n\nThe mother caught her hand eagerly.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d she said, in the same enforced whisper, \u201clet us look at him\ntogether\u2014once more\u2014only once\u2014then help thou thy servants, Lord!\u201d\n\nThey crossed the street hand in hand ghostly-quick, ghostly-still. When\ntheir shadows fell upon him, they stopped. One of his hands was lying\nout upon the step palm up. Tirzah fell upon her knees, and would have\nkissed it; but the mother drew her back.\n\n\u201cNot for thy life; not for thy life! Unclean, unclean!\u201d she whispered.\n\nTirzah shrank from him, as if he were the leprous one.\n\nBen-Hur was handsome as the manly are. His cheeks and forehead were\nswarthy from exposure to the desert sun and air; yet under the light\nmustache the lips were red, and the teeth shone white, and the soft\nbeard did not hide the full roundness of chin and throat. How beautiful\nhe appeared to the mother\u2019s eyes! How mightily she yearned to put her\narms about him, and take his head upon her bosom and kiss him, as had\nbeen her wont in his happy childhood! Where got she the strength to\nresist the impulse? From her love, O, reader!\u2014her mother-love, which,\nif thou wilt observe well, hath this unlikeness to any other love:\ntender to the object, it can be infinitely tyrannical to itself, and\nthence all its power of self-sacrifice. Not for restoration to health\nand fortune, not for any blessing of life, not for life itself, would\nshe have left her leprous kiss upon his cheek! Yet touch him she must;\nin that instant of finding him she must renounce him forever! How\nbitter, bitter hard it was, let some other mother say! She knelt down,\nand, crawling to his feet, touched the sole of one of his sandals with\nher lips, yellow though it was with the dust of the street\u2014and touched\nit again and again; and her very soul was in the kisses.\n\nHe stirred, and tossed his hand. They moved back, but heard him mutter\nin his dream,\n\n\u201cMother! Amrah! Where is\u2014\u201d\n\nHe fell off into the deep sleep.\n\nTirzah stared wistfully. The mother put her face in the dust,\nstruggling to suppress a sob so deep and strong it seemed her heart was\nbursting. Almost she wished he might waken.\n\nHe had asked for her; she was not forgotten; in his sleep he was\nthinking of her. Was it not enough?\n\nPresently mother beckoned to Tirzah, and they arose, and taking one\nmore look, as if to print his image past fading, hand in hand they\nrecrossed the street. Back in the shade of the wall there, they retired\nand knelt, looking at him, waiting for him to wake\u2014waiting some\nrevelation, they knew not what. Nobody has yet given us a measure for\nthe patience of a love like theirs.\n\nBy-and-by, the sleep being yet upon him, another woman appeared at the\ncorner of the palace. The two in the shade saw her plainly in the\nlight; a small figure, much bent, dark-skinned, gray-haired, dressed\nneatly in servant\u2019s garb, and carrying a basket full of vegetables.\n\nAt sight of the man upon the step the new-comer stopped; then, as if\ndecided, she walked on\u2014very lightly as she drew near the sleeper.\nPassing round him, she went to the gate, slid the wicket latch easily\nto one side, and put her hand in the opening. One of the broad boards\nin the left valve swung ajar without noise. She put the basket through,\nand was about to follow, when, yielding to curiosity, she lingered to\nhave one look at the stranger whose face was below her in open view.\n\nThe spectators across the street heard a low exclamation, and saw the\nwoman rub her eyes as if to renew their power, bend closer down, clasp\nher hands, gaze wildly around, look at the sleeper, stoop and raise the\noutlying hand, and kiss it fondly\u2014that which they wished so mightily to\ndo, but dared not.\n\nAwakened by the action, Ben-Hur instinctively withdrew the hand; as he\ndid so, his eyes met the woman\u2019s.\n\n\u201cAmrah! O Amrah, is it thou?\u201d he said.\n\nThe good heart made no answer in words, but fell upon his neck, crying\nfor joy.\n\nGently he put her arms away, and lifting the dark face wet with tears,\nkissed it, his joy only a little less than hers. Then those across the\nway heard him say,\n\n\u201cMother\u2014Tirzah\u2014O Amrah, tell me of them! Speak, speak, I pray thee!\u201d\n\nAmrah only cried afresh.\n\n\u201cThou has seen them, Amrah. Thou knowest where they are; tell me they\nare at home.\u201d\n\nTirzah moved, but her mother, divining her purpose, caught her and\nwhispered, \u201cDo not go\u2014not for life. Unclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nHer love was in tyrannical mood. Though both their hearts broke, he\nshould not become what they were; and she conquered.\n\nMeantime, Amrah, so entreated, only wept the more.\n\n\u201cWert thou going in?\u201d he asked, presently, seeing the board swung back.\n\u201cCome, then. I will go with thee.\u201d He arose as he spoke. \u201cThe Romans\u2014be\nthe curse of the Lord upon them!\u2014the Romans lied. The house is mine.\nRise, Amrah, and let us go in.\u201d A moment and they were gone, leaving\nthe two in the shade to behold the gate staring blankly at them\u2014the\ngate which they might not ever enter more. They nestled together in the\ndust.\n\nThey had done their duty.\n\nTheir love was proven.\n\nNext morning they were found, and driven out the city with stones.\n\n\u201cBegone! Ye are of the dead; go to the dead!\u201d\n\nWith the doom ringing in their ears, they went forth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nNowadays travellers in the Holy Land looking for the famous place with\nthe beautiful name, the King\u2019s Garden, descend the bed of the Cedron or\nthe curve of Gihon and Hinnom as far as the old well En-rogel, take a\ndrink of the sweet living water, and stop, having reached the limit of\nthe interesting in that direction. They look at the great stones with\nwhich the well is curbed, ask its depth, smile at the primitive mode of\ndrawing the purling treasure, and waste some pity on the ragged wretch\nwho presides over it; then, facing about, they are enraptured with the\nmounts Moriah and Zion, both of which slope towards them from the\nnorth, one terminating in Ophel, the other in what used to be the site\nof the city of David. In the background, up far in the sky, the\ngarniture of the sacred places is visible: here the Haram, with its\ngraceful dome; yonder the stalward remains of Hippicus, defiant even in\nruins. When that view has been enjoyed, and is sufficiently impressed\nupon the memory, the travellers glance at the Mount of Offence standing\nin rugged stateliness at their right hand, and then at the Hill of Evil\nCounsel over on the left, in which, if they be well up in Scriptural\nhistory and in the traditions rabbinical and monkish, they will find a\ncertain interest not to be overcome by superstitious horror.\n\nIt were long to tell all the points of interest grouped around that\nhill; for the present purpose, enough that its feet are planted in the\nveritable orthodox Hell of the moderns\u2014the Hell of brimstone and\nfire\u2014in the old nomenclature Gehenna; and that now, as in the days of\nChrist, its bluff face opposite the city on the south and southeast is\nseamed and pitted with tombs which have been immemorially the\ndwelling-places of lepers, not singly, but collectively. There they set\nup their government and established their society; there they founded a\ncity and dwelt by themselves, avoided as the accursed of God.\n\nThe second morning after the incidents of the preceding chapter, Amrah\ndrew near the well En-rogel, and seated herself upon a stone. One\nfamiliar with Jerusalem, looking at her, would have said she was the\nfavorite servant of some well-to-do family. She brought with her a\nwater-jar and a basket, the contents of the latter covered with a\nsnow-white napkin. Placing them on the ground at her side, she loosened\nthe shawl which fell from her head, knit her fingers together in her\nlap, and gazed demurely up to where the hill drops steeply down into\nAceldama and the Potter\u2019s Field.\n\nIt was very early, and she was the first to arrive at the well. Soon,\nhowever, a man came bringing a rope and a leathern bucket. Saluting the\nlittle dark-faced woman, he undid the rope, fixed it to the bucket, and\nwaited customers. Others who chose to do so might draw water for\nthemselves, he was a professional in the business, and would fill the\nlargest jar the stoutest woman could carry for a gerah.\n\nAmrah sat still, and had nothing to say. Seeing the jar, the man asked\nafter a while if she wished it filled; she answered him civilly, \u201cNot\nnow;\u201d whereupon he gave her no more attention. When the dawn was fairly\ndefined over Olivet, his patrons began to arrive, and he had all he\ncould do to attend to them. All the time she kept her seat, looking\nintently up at the hill.\n\nThe sun made its appearance, yet she sat watching and waiting; and\nwhile she thus waits, let us see what her purpose is.\n\nHer custom had been to go to market after nightfall. Stealing out\nunobserved, she would seek the shops in the Tyropoeon, or those over by\nthe Fish Gate in the east, make her purchases of meat and vegetables,\nand return and shut herself up again.\n\nThe pleasure she derived from the presence of Ben-Hur in the old house\nonce more may be imagined. She had nothing to tell him of her mistress\nor Tirzah\u2014nothing. He would have had her move to a place not so\nlonesome; she refused. She would have had him take his own room again,\nwhich was just as he had left it; but the danger of discovery was too\ngreat, and he wished above all things to avoid inquiry. He would come\nand see her often as possible. Coming in the night, he would also go\naway in the night. She was compelled to be satisfied, and at once\noccupied herself contriving ways to make him happy. That he was a man\nnow did not occur to her; nor did it enter her mind that he might have\nput by or lost his boyish tastes; to please him, she thought to go on\nher old round of services. He used to be fond of confections; she\nremembered the things in that line which delighted him most, and\nresolved to make them, and have a supply always ready when he came.\nCould anything be happier? So next night, earlier than usual, she stole\nout with her basket, and went over to the Fish Gate Market. Wandering\nabout, seeking the best honey, she chanced to hear a man telling a\nstory.\n\nWhat the story was the reader can arrive at with sufficient certainty\nwhen told that the narrator was one of the men who had held torches for\nthe commandant of the Tower of Antonia when, down in cell VI., the Hurs\nwere found. The particulars of the finding were all told, and she heard\nthem, with the names of the prisoners, and the widow\u2019s account of\nherself.\n\nThe feelings with which Amrah listened to the recital were such as\nbecame the devoted creature she was. She made her purchases, and\nreturned home in a dream. What a happiness she had in store for her\nboy! She had found his mother!\n\nShe put the basket away, now laughing, now crying. Suddenly she stopped\nand thought. It would kill him to be told that his mother and Tirzah\nwere lepers. He would go through the awful city over on the Hill of\nEvil Counsel\u2014into each infected tomb he would go without rest, asking\nfor them, and the disease would catch him, and their fate would be his.\nShe wrung her hands. What should she do?\n\nLike many a one before her, and many a one since, she derived\ninspiration, if not wisdom, from her affection, and came to a singular\nconclusion.\n\nThe lepers, she knew, were accustomed of mornings to come down from\ntheir sepulchral abodes in the hill, and take a supply of water for the\nday from the well En-rogel. Bringing their jars, they would set them on\nthe ground and wait, standing afar until they were filled. To that the\nmistress and Tirzah must come; for the law was inexorable, and admitted\nno distinction. A rich leper was no better than a poor one.\n\nSo Amrah decided not to speak to Ben-Hur of the story she had heard,\nbut go alone to the well and wait. Hunger and thirst would drive the\nunfortunates thither, and she believed she could recognize them at\nsight; if not, they might recognize her.\n\nMeantime Ben-Hur came, and they talked much. To-morrow Malluch would\narrive; then the search should be immediately begun. He was impatient\nto be about it. To amuse himself he would visit the sacred places in\nthe vicinity. The secret, we may be sure, weighed heavily on the woman,\nbut she held her peace.\n\nWhen he was gone she busied herself in the preparation of things good\nto eat, applying her utmost skill to the work. At the approach of day,\nas signalled by the stars, she filled the basket, selected a jar, and\ntook the road to En-rogel, going out by the Fish Gate which was\nearliest open, and arriving as we have seen.\n\nShortly after sunrise, when business at the well was most pressing, and\nthe drawer of water most hurried; when, in fact, half a dozen buckets\nwere in use at the same time, everybody making haste to get away before\nthe cool of the morning melted into the heat of the day, the tenantry\nof the hill began to appear and move about the doors of their tombs.\nSomewhat later they were discernible in groups, of which not a few were\nchildren so young that they suggested the holiest relation. Numbers\ncame momentarily around the turn of the bluff\u2014women with jars upon\ntheir shoulders, old and very feeble men hobbling along on staffs and\ncrutches. Some leaned upon the shoulders of others; a few\u2014the utterly\nhelpless\u2014lay, like heaps of rags, upon litters. Even that community of\nsuperlative sorrow had its love-light to make life endurable and\nattractive. Distance softened without entirely veiling the misery of\nthe outcasts.\n\nFrom her seat by the well Amrah kept watch upon the spectral groups.\nShe scarcely moved. More than once she imagined she saw those she\nsought. That they were there upon the hill she had no doubt; that they\nmust come down and near she knew; when the people at the well were all\nserved they would come.\n\nNow, quite at the base of the bluff there was a tomb which had more\nthan once attracted Amrah by its wide gaping. A stone of large\ndimensions stood near its mouth. The sun looked into it through the\nhottest hours of the day, and altogether it seemed uninhabitable by\nanything living, unless, perchance, by some wild dogs returning from\nscavenger duty down in Gehenna. Thence, however, and greatly to her\nsurprise, the patient Egyptian beheld two women come, one half\nsupporting, half leading, the other. They were both white-haired; both\nlooked old; but their garments were not rent, and they gazed about them\nas if the locality were new. The witness below thought she even saw\nthem shrink terrified at the spectacle offered by the hideous\nassemblage of which they found themselves part. Slight reasons,\ncertainly, to make her heart beat faster, and draw her attention to\nthem exclusively; but so they did.\n\nThe two remained by the stone awhile; then they moved slowly,\npainfully, and with much fear towards the well, whereat several voices\nwere raised to stop them; yet they kept on. The drawer of water picked\nup some pebbles, and made ready to drive them back. The company cursed\nthem. The greater company on the hill shouted shrilly, \u201cUnclean,\nunclean!\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely,\u201d thought Amrah of the two, as they kept coming\u2014\u201csurely, they\nare strangers to the usage of lepers.\u201d\n\nShe arose, and went to meet them, taking the basket and jar. The alarm\nat the well immediately subsided.\n\n\u201cWhat a fool,\u201d said one, laughing, \u201cwhat a fool to give good bread to\nthe dead in that way!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd to think of her coming so far!\u201d said another. \u201cI would at least\nmake them meet me at the gate.\u201d\n\nAmrah, with better impulse, proceeded. If she should be mistaken! Her\nheart arose into her throat. And the farther she went the more doubtful\nand confused she became. Four or five yards from where they stood\nwaiting for her she stopped.\n\nThat the mistress she loved! whose hand she had so often kissed in\ngratitude! whose image of matronly loveliness she had treasured in\nmemory so faithfully! And that the Tirzah she had nursed through\nbabyhood! whose pains she had soothed, whose sports she had shared!\nthat the smiling, sweet-faced, songful Tirzah, the light of the great\nhouse, the promised blessing of her old age! Her mistress, her\ndarling\u2014they? The soul of the woman sickened at the sight.\n\n\u201cThese are old women,\u201d she said to herself. \u201cI never saw them before. I\nwill go back.\u201d\n\nShe turned away.\n\n\u201cAmrah,\u201d said one of the lepers.\n\nThe Egyptian dropped the jar, and looked back, trembling.\n\n\u201cWho called me?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cAmrah.\u201d\n\nThe servant\u2019s wondering eyes settled upon the speaker\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d she cried.\n\n\u201cWe are they you are seeking.\u201d\n\nAmrah fell upon her knees.\n\n\u201cO my mistress, my mistress! As I have made your God my God, be he\npraised that he has led me to you!\u201d\n\nAnd upon her knees the poor overwhelmed creature began moving forward.\n\n\u201cStay, Amrah! Come not nearer. Unclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nThe words sufficed. Amrah fell upon her face, sobbing so loud the\npeople at the well heard her. Suddenly she arose upon her knees again.\n\n\u201cO my mistress, where is Tirzah?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere I am, Amrah, here! Will you not bring me a little water?\u201d\n\nThe habit of the servant renewed itself. Putting back the coarse hair\nfallen over her face, Amrah arose and went to the basket and uncovered\nit.\n\n\u201cSee,\u201d she said, \u201chere are bread and meat.\u201d\n\nShe would have spread the napkin upon the ground, but the mistress\nspoke again,\n\n\u201cDo not so, Amrah. Those yonder may stone you, and refuse us drink.\nLeave the basket with me. Take up the jar and fill it, and bring it\nhere. We will carry them to the tomb with us. For this day you will\nthen have rendered all the service that is lawful. Haste, Amrah.\u201d\n\nThe people under whose eyes all this had passed made way for the\nservant, and even helped her fill the jar, so piteous was the grief her\ncountenance showed.\n\n\u201cWho are they?\u201d a woman asked.\n\nAmrah meekly answered, \u201cThey used to be good to me.\u201d\n\nRaising the jar upon her shoulder, she hurried back. In forgetfulness,\nshe would have gone to them, but the cry \u201cUnclean, unclean! Beware!\u201d\narrested her. Placing the water by the basket, she stepped back, and\nstood off a little way.\n\n\u201cThank you, Amrah,\u201d said the mistress, taking the articles into\npossession. \u201cThis is very good of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there nothing more I can do?\u201d asked Amrah.\n\nThe mother\u2019s hand was upon the jar, and she was fevered with thirst;\nyet she paused, and rising, said firmly, \u201cYes, I know that Judah has\ncome home. I saw him at the gate night before last asleep on the step.\nI saw you wake him.\u201d\n\nAmrah clasped her hands.\n\n\u201cO my mistress! You saw it, and did not come!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat would have been to kill him. I can never take him in my arms\nagain. I can never kiss him more. O Amrah, Amrah, you love him, I\nknow!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the true heart, bursting into tears again, and kneeling. \u201cI\nwould die for him.\u201d\n\n\u201cProve to me what you say, Amrah.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you shall not tell him where we are or that you have seen us\u2014only\nthat, Amrah.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he is looking for you. He has come from afar to find you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe must not find us. He shall not become what we are. Hear, Amrah. You\nshall serve us as you have this day. You shall bring us the little we\nneed\u2014not long now\u2014not long. You shall come every morning and evening\nthus, and\u2014and\u201d\u2014the voice trembled, the strong will almost broke\ndown\u2014\u201cand you shall tell us of him, Amrah; but to him you shall say\nnothing of us. Hear you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, it will be so hard to hear him speak of you, and see him going\nabout looking for you\u2014to see all his love, and not tell him so much as\nthat you are alive!\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you tell him we are well, Amrah?\u201d\n\nThe servant bowed her head in her arms.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d the mistress continued; \u201cwherefore to be silent altogether. Go\nnow, and come this evening. We will look for you. Till then, farewell.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe burden will be heavy, O my mistress, and hard to bear,\u201d said\nAmrah, falling upon her face.\n\n\u201cHow much harder would it be to see him as we are,\u201d the mother answered\nas she gave the basket to Tirzah. \u201cCome again this evening,\u201d she\nrepeated, taking up the water, and starting for the tomb.\n\nAmrah waited kneeling until they had disappeared; then she took the\nroad sorrowfully home.\n\nIn the evening she returned; and thereafter it became her custom to\nserve them in the morning and evening, so that they wanted for nothing\nneedful. The tomb, though ever so stony and desolate, was less\ncheerless than the cell in the Tower had been. Daylight gilded its\ndoor, and it was in the beautiful world. Then, one can wait death with\nso much more faith out under the open sky.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nThe morning of the first day of the seventh month\u2014Tishri in the Hebrew,\nOctober in English\u2014Ben-Hur arose from his couch in the khan ill\nsatisfied with the whole world.\n\nLittle time had been lost in consultation upon the arrival of Malluch.\nThe latter began the search at the Tower of Antonia, and began it\nboldly, by a direct inquiry of the tribune commanding. He gave the\nofficer a history of the Hurs, and all the particulars of the accident\nto Gratus, describing the affair as wholly without criminality. The\nobject of the quest now, he said, was if any of the unhappy family were\ndiscovered alive to carry a petition to the feet of C\u00e6sar, praying\nrestitution of the estate and return to their civil rights. Such a\npetition, he had no doubt, would result in an investigation by the\nimperial order, a proceeding of which the friends of the family had no\nfear.\n\nIn reply the tribune stated circumstantially the discovery of the women\nin the Tower, and permitted a reading of the memorandum he had taken of\ntheir account of themselves; when leave to copy it was prayed, he even\npermitted that.\n\nMalluch thereupon hurried to Ben-Hur.\n\nIt were useless to attempt description of the effect the terrible story\nhad upon the young man. The pain was not relieved by tears or\npassionate outcries; it was too deep for any expression. He sat still a\nlong time, with pallid face and laboring heart. Now and then, as if to\nshow the thoughts which were most poignant, he muttered,\n\n\u201cLepers, lepers! They\u2014my mother and Tirzah\u2014they lepers! How long, how\nlong, O Lord!\u201d\n\nOne moment he was torn by a virtuous rage of sorrow, next by a longing\nfor vengeance which, it must be admitted, was scarcely less virtuous.\n\nAt length he arose.\n\n\u201cI must look for them. They may be dying.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere will you look?\u201d asked Malluch.\n\n\u201cThere is but one place for them to go.\u201d\n\nMalluch interposed, and finally prevailed so far as to have the\nmanagement of the further attempt intrusted to him. Together they went\nto the gate over on the side opposite the Hill of Evil Counsel,\nimmemorially the lepers\u2019 begging-ground. There they stayed all day,\ngiving alms, asking for the two women, and offering rich rewards for\ntheir discovery. So they did in repetition day after day through the\nremainder of the fifth month, and all the sixth. There was diligent\nscouring of the dread city on the hill by lepers to whom the rewards\noffered were mighty incentives, for they were only dead in law. Over\nand over again the gaping tomb down by the well was invaded, and its\ntenants subjected to inquiry; but they kept their secret fast. The\nresult was failure. And now, the morning of the first day of the\nseventh month, the extent of the additional information gained was that\nnot long before two leprous women had been stoned from the Fish Gate by\nthe authorities. A little pressing of the clew, together with some\nshrewd comparison of dates, led to the sad assurance that the sufferers\nwere the Hurs, and left the old questions darker than ever. Where were\nthey? And what had become of them?\n\n\u201cIt was not enough that my people should be made lepers,\u201d said the son,\nover and over again, with what intensity of bitterness the reader may\nimagine; \u201cthat was not enough. Oh no! They must be stoned from their\nnative city! My mother is dead! she has wandered to the wilderness! she\nis dead! Tirzah is dead! I alone am left. And for what? How long, O\nGod, thou Lord God of my fathers, how long shall this Rome endure?\u201d\n\nAngry, hopeless, vengeful, he entered the court of the khan, and found\nit crowded with people come in during the night. While he ate his\nbreakfast, he listened to some of them. To one party he was specially\nattracted. They were mostly young, stout, active, hardy men, in manner\nand speech provincial. In their look, the certain indefinable air, the\npose of the head, glance of the eye, there was a spirit which did not,\nas a rule, belong to the outward seeming of the lower orders of\nJerusalem; the spirit thought by some to be a peculiarity of life in\nmountainous districts, but which may be more surely traced to a life of\nhealthful freedom. In a short time he ascertained they were Galileans,\nin the city for various purposes, but chiefly to take part in the Feast\nof Trumpets, set for that day. They became to him at once objects of\ninterest, as hailing from the region in which he hoped to find readiest\nsupport in the work he was shortly to set about.\n\nWhile observing them, his mind running ahead in thought of achievements\npossible to a legion of such spirits disciplined after the severe Roman\nstyle, a man came into the court, his face much flushed, his eyes\nbright with excitement.\n\n\u201cWhy are you here?\u201d he said to the Galileans. \u201cThe rabbis and elders\nare going from the Temple to see Pilate. Come, make haste, and let us\ngo with them.\u201d\n\nThey surrounded him in a moment.\n\n\u201cTo see Pilate! For what?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey have discovered a conspiracy. Pilate\u2019s new aqueduct is to be paid\nfor with money of the Temple.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, with the sacred treasure?\u201d\n\nThey repeated the question to each other with flashing eyes.\n\n\u201cIt is Corban\u2014money of God. Let him touch a shekel of it if he dare!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d cried the messenger. \u201cThe procession is by this time across the\nbridge. The whole city is pouring after. We may be needed. Make haste!\u201d\n\nAs if the thought and the act were one, there was quick putting away of\nuseless garments, and the party stood forth bareheaded, and in the\nshort sleeveless under-tunics they were used to wearing as reapers in\nthe field and boatmen on the lake\u2014the garb in which they climbed the\nhills following the herds, and plucked the ripened vintage, careless of\nthe sun. Lingering only to tighten their girdles, they said, \u201cWe are\nready.\u201d\n\nThen Ben-Hur spoke to them.\n\n\u201cMen of Galilee,\u201d he said, \u201cI am a son of Judah. Will you take me in\nyour company?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe may have to fight,\u201d they replied.\n\n\u201cOh, then, I will not be first to run away!\u201d\n\nThey took the retort in good humor, and the messenger said, \u201cYou seem\nstout enough. Come along.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur put off his outer garments.\n\n\u201cYou think there may be fighting?\u201d he asked, quietly, as he tightened\nhis girdle.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe guard.\u201d\n\n\u201cLegionaries?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom else can a Roman trust?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat have you to fight with?\u201d\n\nThey looked at him silently.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d he continued, \u201cwe will have to do the best we can; but had we\nnot better choose a leader? The legionaries always have one, and so are\nable to act with one mind.\u201d\n\nThe Galileans stared more curiously, as if the idea were new to them.\n\n\u201cLet us at least agree to stay together,\u201d he said. \u201cNow I am ready, if\nyou are.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, let us go.\u201d\n\nThe khan, it should not be forgotten, was in Bezetha, the new town; and\nto get to the Praetorium, as the Romans resonantly styled the palace of\nHerod on Mount Zion, the party had to cross the lowlands north and west\nof the Temple. By streets\u2014if they may be so called\u2014trending north and\nsouth, with intersections hardly up to the dignity of alleys, they\npassed rapidly round the Akra district to the Tower of Mariamne, from\nwhich the way was short to the grand gate of the walled heights. In\ngoing, they overtook, or were overtaken by, people like themselves\nstirred to wrath by news of the proposed desecration. When, at length,\nthey reached the gate of the Praetorium, the procession of elders and\nrabbis had passed in with a great following, leaving a greater crowd\nclamoring outside.\n\nA centurion kept the entrance with a guard drawn up full armed under\nthe beautiful marble battlements. The sun struck the soldiers fervidly\non helm and shield; but they kept their ranks indifferent alike to its\ndazzle and to the mouthings of the rabble. Through the open bronze\ngates a current of citizens poured in, while a much lesser one poured\nout.\n\n\u201cWhat is going on?\u201d one of the Galileans asked an outcomer.\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d was the reply. \u201cThe rabbis are before the door of the palace\nasking to see Pilate. He has refused to come out. They have sent one to\ntell him they will not go away till he has heard them. They are\nwaiting.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us go in,\u201d said Ben-Hur, in his quiet way, seeing what his\ncompanions probably did not, that there was not only a disagreement\nbetween the suitors and the governor, but an issue joined, and a\nserious question as to who should have his will.\n\nInside the gate there was a row of trees in leaf, with seats under\nthem. The people, whether going or coming, carefully avoided the shade\ncast gratefully upon the white, clean-swept pavement; for, strange as\nit may seem, a rabbinical ordinance, alleged to have been derived from\nthe law, permitted no green thing to be grown within the walls of\nJerusalem. Even the wise king, it was said, wanting a garden for his\nEgyptian bride, was constrained to found it down in the meeting-place\nof the valleys above En-rogel.\n\nThrough the tree-tops shone the outer fronts of the palace. Turning to\nthe right, the party proceeded a short distance to a spacious square,\non the west side of which stood the residence of the governor. An\nexcited multitude filled the square. Every face was directed towards a\nportico built over a broad doorway which was closed. Under the portico\nthere was another array of legionaries.\n\nThe throng was so close the friends could not well have advanced if\nsuch had been their desire; they remained therefore in the rear,\nobservers of what was going on. About the portico they could see the\nhigh turbans of the rabbis, whose impatience communicated at times to\nthe mass behind them; a cry was frequent to the effect \u201cPilate, if thou\nbe a governor, come forth, come forth!\u201d\n\nOnce a man coming out pushed through the crowd, his face red with\nanger.\n\n\u201cIsrael is of no account here,\u201d he said, in a loud voice. \u201cOn this holy\nground we are no better than dogs of Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill he not come out, think you?\u201d\n\n\u201cCome? Has he not thrice refused?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat will the rabbis do?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs at C\u00e6sarea\u2014camp here till he gives them ear.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will not dare touch the treasure, will he?\u201d asked one of the\nGalileans.\n\n\u201cWho can say? Did not a Roman profane the Holy of Holies? Is there\nanything sacred from Romans?\u201d\n\nAn hour passed, and though Pilate deigned them no answer, the rabbis\nand crowd remained. Noon came, bringing a shower from the west, but no\nchange in the situation, except that the multitude was larger and much\nnoisier, and the feeling more decidedly angry. The shouting was almost\ncontinuous, Come forth, come forth! The cry was sometimes with\ndisrespectful variations. Meanwhile Ben-Hur held his Galilean friends\ntogether. He judged the pride of the Roman would eventually get the\nbetter of his discretion, and that the end could not be far off. Pilate\nwas but waiting for the people to furnish him an excuse for resort to\nviolence.\n\nAnd at last the end came. In the midst of the assemblage there was\nheard the sound of blows, succeeded instantly by yells of pain and\nrage, and a most furious commotion. The venerable men in front of the\nportico faced about aghast. The common people in the rear at first\npushed forward; in the centre, the effort was to get out; and for a\nshort time the pressure of opposing forces was terrible. A thousand\nvoices made inquiry, raised all at once; as no one had time to answer,\nthe surprise speedily became a panic.\n\nBen-Hur kept his senses.\n\n\u201cYou cannot see?\u201d he said to one of the Galileans.\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will raise you up.\u201d\n\nHe caught the man about the middle, and lifted him bodily.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cI see now,\u201d said the man. \u201cThere are some armed with clubs, and they\nare beating the people. They are dressed like Jews.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cRomans, as the Lord liveth! Romans in disguise. Their clubs fly like\nflails! There, I saw a rabbi struck down\u2014an old man! They spare\nnobody!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur let the man down.\n\n\u201cMen of Galilee,\u201d he said, \u201cit is a trick of Pilate\u2019s. Now, will you do\nwhat I say, we will get even with the club-men.\u201d\n\nThe Galilean spirit arose.\n\n\u201cYes, yes!\u201d they answered.\n\n\u201cLet us go back to the trees by the gate, and we may find the planting\nof Herod, though unlawful, has some good in it after all. Come!\u201d\n\nThey ran back all of them fast as they could; and, by throwing their\nunited weight upon the limbs, tore them from the trunks. In a brief\ntime they, too, were armed. Returning, at the corner of the square they\nmet the crowd rushing madly for the gate. Behind, the clamor\ncontinued\u2014a medley of shrieks, groans, and execrations.\n\n\u201cTo the wall!\u201d Ben-Hur shouted. \u201cTo the wall!\u2014and let the herd go by!\u201d\n\nSo, clinging to the masonry at their right hand, they escaped the might\nof the rush, and little by little made headway until, at last, the\nsquare was reached.\n\n\u201cKeep together now, and follow me!\u201d\n\nBy this time Ben-Hur\u2019s leadership was perfect; and as he pushed into\nthe seething mob his party closed after him in a body. And when the\nRomans, clubbing the people and making merry as they struck them down,\ncame hand to hand with the Galileans, lithe of limb, eager for the\nfray, and equally armed, they were in turn surprised. Then the shouting\nwas close and fierce; the crash of sticks rapid and deadly; the advance\nfurious as hate could make it. No one performed his part as well as\nBen-Hur, whose training served him admirably; for, not merely he knew\nto strike and guard; his long arm, perfect action, and incomparable\nstrength helped him, also, to success in every encounter. He was at the\nsame time fighting-man and leader. The club he wielded was of goodly\nlength and weighty, so he had need to strike a man but once. He seemed,\nmoreover, to have eyes for each combat of his friends, and the faculty\nof being at the right moment exactly where he was most needed. In his\nfighting cry there were inspiration for his party and alarm for his\nenemies. Thus surprised and equally matched, the Romans at first\nretired, but finally turned their backs and fled to the portico. The\nimpetuous Galileans would have pursued them to the steps, but Ben-Hur\nwisely restrained them.\n\n\u201cStay, my men!\u201d he said. \u201cThe centurion yonder is coming with the\nguard. They have swords and shields; we cannot fight them. We have done\nwell; let us get back and out of the gate while we may.\u201d\n\nThey obeyed him, though slowly; for they had frequently to step over\ntheir countrymen lying where they had been felled; some writhing and\ngroaning, some praying help, others mute as the dead. But the fallen\nwere not all Jews. In that there was consolation.\n\nThe centurion shouted to them as they went off; Ben-Hur laughed at him,\nand replied in his own tongue, \u201cIf we are dogs of Israel, you are\njackals of Rome. Remain here, and we will come again.\u201d\n\nThe Galileans cheered, and laughing went on.\n\nOutside the gate there was a multitude the like of which Ben-Hur had\nnever seen, not even in the circus at Antioch. The house-tops, the\nstreets, the slope of the hill, appeared densely covered with people\nwailing and praying. The air was filled with their cries and\nimprecations.\n\nThe party were permitted to pass without challenge by the outer guard.\nBut hardly were they out before the centurion in charge at the portico\nappeared, and in the gateway called to Ben-Hur,\n\n\u201cHo, insolent! Art thou a Roman or a Jew?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur answered, \u201cI am a son of Judah, born here. What wouldst thou\nwith me?\u201d\n\n\u201cStay and fight.\u201d\n\n\u201cSingly?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs thou wilt!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur laughed derisively.\n\n\u201cO brave Roman! Worthy son of the bastard Roman Jove! I have no arms.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou shalt have mine,\u201d the centurion answered. \u201cI will borrow of the\nguard here.\u201d\n\nThe people in hearing of the colloquy became silent; and from them the\nhush spread afar. But lately Ben-Hur had beaten a Roman under the eyes\nof Antioch and the Farther East; now, could he beat another one under\nthe eyes of Jerusalem, the honor might be vastly profitable to the\ncause of the New King. He did not hesitate. Going frankly to the\ncenturion, he said, \u201cI am willing. Lend me thy sword and shield.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the helm and breastplate?\u201d asked the Roman.\n\n\u201cKeep them. They might not fit me.\u201d\n\nThe arms were as frankly delivered, and directly the centurion was\nready. All this time the soldiers in rank close by the gate never\nmoved; they simply listened. As to the multitude, only when the\ncombatants advanced to begin the fight the question sped from mouth to\nmouth, \u201cWho is he?\u201d And no one knew.\n\nNow the Roman supremacy in arms lay in three things\u2014submission to\ndiscipline, the legionary formation of battle, and a peculiar use of\nthe short sword. In combat, they never struck or cut; from first to\nlast they thrust\u2014they advanced thrusting, they retired thrusting; and\ngenerally their aim was at the foeman\u2019s face. All this was well known\nto Ben-Hur. As they were about to engage he said,\n\n\u201cI told thee I was a son of Judah; but I did not tell that I am\nlanista-taught. Defend thyself!\u201d\n\nAt the last word Ben-Hur closed with his antagonist. A moment, standing\nfoot to foot, they glared at each other over the rims of their embossed\nshields; then the Roman pushed forward and feinted an under-thrust. The\nJew laughed at him. A thrust at the face followed. The Jew stepped\nlightly to the left; quick as the thrust was, the step was quicker.\nUnder the lifted arm of the foe he slid his shield, advancing it until\nthe sword and sword-arm were both caught on its upper surface; another\nstep, this time forward and left, and the man\u2019s whole right side was\noffered to the point. The centurion fell heavily on his breast,\nclanging the pavement, and Ben-Hur had won. With his foot upon his\nenemy\u2019s back, he raised his shield overhead after a gladiatorial\ncustom, and saluted the imperturbable soldiers by the gate.\n\nWhen the people realized the victory they behaved like mad. On the\nhouses far as the Xystus, fast as the word could fly, they waved their\nshawls and handkerchiefs and shouted; and if he had consented, the\nGalileans would have carried Ben-Hur off upon their shoulders.\n\nTo a petty officer who then advanced from the gate he said, \u201cThy\ncomrade died like a soldier. I leave him undespoiled. Only his sword\nand shield are mine.\u201d\n\nWith that, he walked away. Off a little he spoke to the Galileans.\n\n\u201cBrethren, you have behaved well. Let us now separate, lest we be\npursued. Meet me to-night at the khan in Bethany. I have something to\npropose to you of great interest to Israel.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d they asked him.\n\n\u201cA son of Judah,\u201d he answered, simply.\n\nA throng eager to see him surged around the party.\n\n\u201cWill you come to Bethany?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes, we will come.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen bring with you this sword and shield that I may know you.\u201d\n\nPushing brusquely through the increasing crowd, he speedily\ndisappeared.\n\nAt the instance of Pilate, the people went up from the city, and\ncarried off their dead and wounded, and there was much mourning for\nthem; but the grief was greatly lightened by the victory of the unknown\nchampion, who was everywhere sought, and by every one extolled. The\nfainting spirit of the nation was revived by the brave deed; insomuch\nthat in the streets and up in the Temple even, amidst the solemnities\nof the feast, old tales of the Maccabees were told again, and thousands\nshook their heads whispering wisely,\n\n\u201cA little longer, only a little longer, brethren, and Israel will come\nto her own. Let there be faith in the Lord, and patience.\u201d\n\nIn such manner Ben-Hur obtained hold on Galilee, and paved the way to\ngreater services in the cause of the King Who Was Coming.\n\nAnd with what result we shall see.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK SEVENTH\n\n\n\u201cAnd, waking, I beheld her there\nSea-dreaming in the moted air,\nA siren lithe and debonair,\nWith wristlets woven of scarlet weeds,\nAnd oblong lucent amber beads\nOf sea-kelp shining in her hair.\u201d\n\nTHOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe meeting took place in the khan of Bethany as appointed. Thence\nBen-Hur went with the Galileans into their country, where his exploits\nup in the old Market-place gave him fame and influence. Before the\nwinter was gone he raised three legions, and organized them after the\nRoman pattern. He could have had as many more, for the martial spirit\nof that gallant people never slept. The proceeding, however, required\ncareful guarding as against both Rome and Herod Antipas. Contenting\nhimself for the present with the three, he strove to train and educate\nthem for systematic action. For that purpose he carried the officers\nover into the lava-beds of Trachonitis, and taught them the use of\narms, particularly the javelin and sword, and the manoeuvering peculiar\nto the legionary formation; after which he sent them home as teachers.\nAnd soon the training became a pastime of the people.\n\nAs may be thought, the task called for patience, skill, zeal, faith,\nand devotion on his part\u2014qualities into which the power of inspiring\nothers in matters of difficulty is always resolvable; and never man\npossessed them in greater degree or used them to better effect. How he\nlabored! And with utter denial of self! Yet withal he would have failed\nbut for the support he had from Simonides, who furnished him arms and\nmoney, and from Ilderim, who kept watch and brought him supplies. And\nstill he would have failed but for the genius of the Galileans.\n\nUnder that name were comprehended the four tribes\u2014Asher, Zebulon,\nIssachar, and Naphthali\u2014and the districts originally set apart to them.\nThe Jew born in sight of the Temple despised these brethren of the\nnorth; but the Talmud itself has said, \u201cThe Galilean loves honor, and\nthe Jew money.\u201d\n\nHating Rome fervidly as they loved their own country, in every revolt\nthey were first in the field and last to leave it. One hundred and\nfifty thousand Galilean youths perished in the final war with Rome. For\nthe great festal days, they went up to Jerusalem marching and camping\nlike armies; yet they were liberal in sentiment, and even tolerant to\nheathenism. In Herod\u2019s beautiful cities, which were Roman in all\nthings, in Sepphoris and Tiberias especially, they took pride, and in\nthe building them gave loyal support. They had for fellow-citizens men\nfrom the outside world everywhere, and lived in peace with them. To the\nglory of the Hebrew name they contributed poets like the singer of the\nSong of Songs and prophets like Hosea.\n\nUpon such a people, so quick, so proud, so brave, so devoted, so\nimaginative, a tale like that of the coming of the King was\nall-powerful. That he was coming to put Rome down would have been\nsufficient to enlist them in the scheme proposed by Ben-Hur; but when,\nbesides, they were assured he was to rule the world, more mighty than\nC\u00e6sar, more magnificent than Solomon, and that the rule was to last\nforever, the appeal was irresistible, and they vowed themselves to the\ncause body and soul. They asked Ben-Hur his authority for the sayings,\nand he quoted the prophets, and told them of Balthasar in waiting over\nin Antioch; and they were satisfied, for it was the old much-loved\nlegend of the Messiah, familiar to them almost as the name of the Lord;\nthe long-cherished dream with a time fixed for its realization. The\nKing was not merely coming now; he was at hand.\n\nSo with Ben-Hur the winter months rolled by, and spring came, with\ngladdening showers blown over from the summering sea in the west; and\nby that time so earnestly and successfully had he toiled that he could\nsay to himself and his followers, \u201cLet the good King come. He has only\nto tell us where he will have his throne set up. We have the\nsword-hands to keep it for him.\u201d\n\nAnd in all his dealings with the many men they knew him only as a son\nof Judah, and by that name.\n\n\nOne evening, over in Trachonitis, Ben-Hur was sitting with some of his\nGalileans at the mouth of the cave in which he quartered, when an Arab\ncourier rode to him, and delivered a letter. Breaking the package, he\nread,\n\n\u201cJerusalem, Nisan IV.\n\n\u201cA prophet has appeared who men say is Elias. He has been in the\nwilderness for years, and to our eyes he is a prophet; and such also is\nhis speech, the burden of which is of one much greater than himself,\nwho, he says, is to come presently, and for whom he is now waiting on\nthe eastern shore of the River Jordan. I have been to see and hear him,\nand the one he is waiting for is certainly the King you are awaiting.\nCome and judge for yourself.\n\n\u201cAll Jerusalem is going out to the prophet, and with many people else\nthe shore on which he abides is like Mount Olivet in the last days of\nthe Passover.\n\n\u201cMALLUCH.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur\u2019s face flushed with joy.\n\n\u201cBy this word, O my friends,\u201d he said\u2014\u201cby this word, our waiting is at\nend. The herald of the King has appeared and announced him.\u201d\n\nUpon hearing the letter read, they also rejoiced at the promise it held\nout.\n\n\u201cGet ready now,\u201d he added, \u201cand in the morning set your faces homeward;\nwhen arrived there, send word to those under you, and bid them be ready\nto assemble as I may direct. For myself and you, I will go see if the\nKing be indeed at hand, and send you report. Let us, in the meantime,\nlive in the pleasure of the promise.\u201d\n\nGoing into the cave, he addressed a letter to Ilderim, and another to\nSimonides, giving notice of the news received, and of his purpose to go\nup immediately to Jerusalem. The letters he despatched by swift\nmessengers. When night fell, and the stars of direction came out, he\nmounted, and with an Arab guide set out for the Jordan, intending to\nstrike the track of the caravans between Rabbath-Ammon and Damascus.\n\nThe guide was sure, and Aldebaran swift; so by midnight the two were\nout of the lava fastness speeding southward.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nIt was Ben-Hur\u2019s purpose to turn aside at the break of day, and find a\nsafe place in which to rest; but the dawn overtook him while out in the\nDesert, and he kept on, the guide promising to bring him afterwhile to\na vale shut in by great rocks, where there were a spring, some\nmulberry-trees, and herbage in plenty for the horses.\n\nAs he rode thinking of the wondrous events so soon to happen, and of\nthe changes they were to bring about in the affairs of men and nations,\nthe guide, ever on the alert, called attention to an appearance of\nstrangers behind them. Everywhere around the Desert stretched away in\nwaves of sand, slowly yellowing in the growing light, and without any\ngreen thing visible. Over on the left, but still far off, a range of\nlow mountains extended, apparently interminable. In the vacancy of such\na waste an object in motion could not long continue a mystery.\n\n\u201cIt is a camel with riders,\u201d the guide said, directly.\n\n\u201cAre there others behind?\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cIt is alone. No, there is a man on horseback\u2014the driver, probably.\u201d\n\nA little later Ben-Hur himself could see the camel was white and\nunusually large, reminding him of the wonderful animal he had seen\nbring Balthasar and Iras to the fountain in the Grove of Daphne. There\ncould be no other like it. Thinking then of the fair Egyptian,\ninsensibly his gait became slower, and at length fell into the merest\nloiter, until finally he could discern a curtained houdah, and two\npersons seated within it. If they were Balthasar and Iras! Should he\nmake himself known to them? But it could not be: this was the\nDesert\u2014and they were alone. But while he debated the question the long\nswinging stride of the camel brought its riders up to him. He heard the\nringing of the tiny bells, and beheld the rich housings which had been\nso attractive to the crowd at the Castalian fount. He beheld also the\nEthiopian, always attendant upon the Egyptians. The tall brute stopped\nclose by his horse, and Ben-Hur, looking up, lo! Iras herself under the\nraised curtain looking down at him, her great swimming eyes bright with\nastonishment and inquiry!\n\n\u201cThe blessing of the true God upon you!\u201d said Balthasar, in his\ntremulous voice.\n\n\u201cAnd to thee and thine be the peace of the Lord,\u201d Ben-Hur replied.\n\n\u201cMy eyes are weak with years,\u201d said Balthasar; \u201cbut they approve you\nthat son of Hur whom lately I knew an honored guest in the tent of\nIlderim the Generous.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd thou art that Balthasar, the wise Egyptian, whose speech\nconcerning certain holy things in expectation is having so much to do\nwith the finding me in this waste place. What dost thou here?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is never alone who is where God is\u2014and God is everywhere,\u201d\nBalthasar answered, gravely; \u201cbut in the sense of your asking, there is\na caravan short way behind us going to Alexandria; and as it is to pass\nthrough Jerusalem, I thought best to avail myself of its company as far\nas the Holy City, whither I am journeying. This morning, however, in\ndiscontent with its slow movement\u2014slower because of a Roman cohort in\nattendance upon it\u2014we rose early, and ventured thus far in advance. As\nto robbers along the way, we are not afraid, for I have here a signet\nof Sheik Ilderim; against beasts of prey, God is our sufficient trust.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur bowed and said, \u201cThe good sheik\u2019s signet is a safeguard\nwherever the wilderness extends, and the lion shall be swift that\novertakes this king of his kind.\u201d\n\nHe patted the neck of the camel as he spoke.\n\n\u201cYet,\u201d said Iras, with a smile which was not lost upon the youth, whose\neyes, it must be admitted, had several times turned to her during the\ninterchange of speeches with the elder\u2014\u201cYet even he would be better if\nhis fast were broken. Kings have hunger and headaches. If you be,\nindeed, the Ben-Hur of whom my father has spoken, and whom it was my\npleasure to have known as well, you will be happy, I am sure, to show\nus some near path to living water, that with its sparkle we may grace a\nmorning\u2019s meal in the Desert.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur, nothing loath, hastened to answer.\n\n\u201cFair Egyptian, I give you sympathy. Can you bear suffering a little\nlonger, we will find the spring you ask for, and I promise that its\ndraught shall be as sweet and cooling as that of the more famous\nCastalia. With leave, we will make haste.\u201d\n\n\u201cI give you the blessing of the thirsty,\u201d she replied; \u201cand offer you\nin return a bit of bread from the city ovens, dipped in fresh butter\nfrom the dewy meadows of Damascus.\u201d\n\n\u201cA most rare favor! Let us go on.\u201d\n\nSo saying, Ben-Hur rode forward with the guide, one of the\ninconveniences of travelling with camels being that it is necessarily\nan interdiction of polite conversation.\n\nAfterwhile the party came to a shallow wady, down which, turning to the\nright hand, the guide led them. The bed of the cut was somewhat soft\nfrom recent rains, and quite bold in its descent. Momentarily, however,\nit widened; and erelong the sides became bluffs ribbed with rocks much\nscarred by floods rushing to lower depths ahead. Finally, from a narrow\npassage, the travellers entered a spreading vale which was very\ndelightful; but come upon suddenly from the yellow, unrelieved,\nverdureless plain, it had the effect of a freshly discovered Paradise.\nThe water-channels winding here and there, definable by crisp white\nshingling, appeared like threads tangled among islands green with\ngrasses and fringed with reeds. Up from the final depths of the valley\nof the Jordan some venturous oleanders had crept, and with their large\nbloom now starred the sunken place. One palm-tree arose in royal\nassertion. The bases of the boundary-walls were cloaked with clambering\nvines, and under a leaning cliff over on the left the mulberry grove\nhad planted itself, proclaiming the spring which the party were\nseeking. And thither the guide conducted them, careless of whistling\npartridges and lesser birds of brighter hues roused whirring from the\nreedy coverts.\n\nThe water started from a crack in the cliff which some loving hand had\nenlarged into an arched cavity. Graven over it in bold Hebraic letters\nwas the word GOD. The graver had no doubt drunk there, and tarried many\ndays, and given thanks in that durable form. From the arch the stream\nran merrily over a flag spotted with bright moss, and leaped into a\npool glassy clear; thence it stole away between grassy banks, nursing\nthe trees before it vanished in the thirsty sand. A few narrow paths\nwere noticeable about the margin of the pool; otherwise the space\naround was untrodden turf, at sight of which the guide was assured of\nrest free from intrusion by men. The horses were presently turned\nloose, and from the kneeling camel the Ethiopian assisted Balthasar and\nIras; whereupon the old man, turning his face to the east, crossed his\nhands reverently upon his breast and prayed.\n\n\u201cBring me a cup,\u201d Iras said, with some impatience.\n\nFrom the houdah the slave brought her a crystal goblet; then she said\nto Ben-Hur,\n\n\u201cI will be your servant at the fountain.\u201d\n\nThey walked to the pool together. He would have dipped the water for\nher, but she refused his offer, and kneeling, held the cup to be filled\nby the stream itself; nor yet content, when it was cooled and\noverrunning, she tendered him the first draught.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he said, putting the graceful hand aside, and seeing only the\nlarge eyes half hidden beneath the arches of the upraised brows, \u201cbe\nthe service mine, I pray.\u201d\n\nShe persisted in having her way.\n\n\u201cIn my country, O son of Hur, we have a saying, \u2018Better a cupbearer to\nthe fortunate than minister to a king.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cFortunate!\u201d he said.\n\nThere were both surprise and inquiry in the tone of his voice and in\nhis look, and she said quickly,\n\n\u201cThe gods give us success as a sign by which we may know them on our\nside. Were you not winner in the Circus?\u201d\n\nHis cheeks began to flush.\n\n\u201cThat was one sign. There is another. In a combat with swords you slew\na Roman.\u201d\n\nThe flush deepened\u2014not so much for the triumphs themselves as the\nflattery there was in the thought that she had followed his career with\ninterest. A moment, and the pleasure was succeeded by a reflection. The\ncombat, he knew, was matter of report throughout the East; but the name\nof the victor had been committed to a very few\u2014Malluch, Ilderim, and\nSimonides. Could they have made a confidante of the woman? So with\nwonder and gratification he was confused; and seeing it, she arose and\nsaid, holding the cup over the pool,\n\n\u201cO gods of Egypt! I give thanks for a hero discovered\u2014thanks that the\nvictim in the Palace of Idernee was not my king of men. And so, O holy\ngods, I pour and drink.\u201d\n\nPart of the contents of the cup she returned to the stream, the rest\nshe drank. When she took the crystal from her lips, she laughed at him.\n\n\u201cO son of Hur, is it a fashion of the very brave to be so easily\novercome by a woman? Take the cup now, and see if you cannot find a\nhappy word in it for me.\u201d\n\nHe took the cup, and stooped to refill it.\n\n\u201cA son of Israel has no gods whom he can libate,\u201d he said, playing with\nthe water to hide his amazement, now greater than before. What more did\nthe Egyptian know about him? Had she been told of his relations with\nSimonides? And there was the treaty with Ilderim\u2014had she knowledge of\nthat also? He was struck with mistrust. Somebody had betrayed his\nsecrets, and they were serious. And, besides, he was going to\nJerusalem, just then of all the world the place where such intelligence\npossessed by an enemy might be most dangerous to him, his associates,\nand the cause. But was she an enemy? It is well for us that, while\nwriting is slow, thought is instantaneous. When the cup was fairly\ncooled, he filled it and arose, saying, with indifference well\naffected,\n\n\u201cMost fair, were I an Egyptian or a Greek or a Roman, I would say\u201d\u2014he\nraised the goblet overhead as he spoke\u2014\u201cO ye better gods! I give thanks\nthat there are yet left to the world, despite its wrongs and\nsufferings, the charm of beauty and the solace of love, and I drink to\nher who best represents them\u2014to Iras, loveliest of the daughters of the\nNile!\u201d\n\nShe laid her hand softly upon his shoulder.\n\n\u201cYou have offended against the law. The gods you have drunk to are\nfalse gods. Why shall I not tell the rabbis on you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d he replied, laughing, \u201cthat is very little to tell for one who\nknows so much else that is really important.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go further\u2014I will go to the little Jewess who makes the roses\ngrow and the shadows flame in the house of the great merchant over in\nAntioch. To the rabbis I will accuse you of impenitence; to her\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, to her?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will repeat what you have said to me under the lifted cup, with the\ngods for witnesses.\u201d\n\nHe was still a moment, as if waiting for the Egyptian to go on. With\nquickened fancy he saw Esther at her father\u2019s side listening to the\ndespatches he had forwarded\u2014sometimes reading them. In her presence he\nhad told Simonides the story of the affair in the Palace of Idernee.\nShe and Iras were acquainted; this one was shrewd and worldly; the\nother was simple and affectionate, and therefore easily won. Simonides\ncould not have broken faith\u2014nor Ilderim\u2014for if not held by honor, there\nwas no one, unless it might be himself, to whom the consequences of\nexposure were more serious and certain. Could Esther have been the\nEgyptian\u2019s informant? He did not accuse her; yet a suspicion was sown\nwith the thought, and suspicions, as we all know, are weeds of the mind\nwhich grow of themselves, and most rapidly when least wanted. Before he\ncould answer the allusion to the little Jewess, Balthasar came to the\npool.\n\n\u201cWe are greatly indebted to you, son of Hur,\u201d he said, in his grave\nmanner. \u201cThis vale is very beautiful; the grass, the trees, the shade,\ninvite us to stay and rest, and the spring here has the sparkle of\ndiamonds in motion, and sings to me of a loving God. It is not enough\nto thank you for the enjoyment we find; come sit with us, and taste our\nbread.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuffer me first to serve you.\u201d\n\nWith that Ben-Hur filled the goblet, and gave it to Balthasar, who\nlifted his eyes in thanksgiving.\n\nImmediately the slave brought napkins; and after laving their hands and\ndrying them, the three seated themselves in Eastern style under the\ntent which years before had served the Wise Men at the meeting in the\nDesert. And they ate heartily of the good things taken from the camel\u2019s\npack.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nThe tent was cosily pitched beneath a tree where the gurgle of the\nstream was constantly in ear. Overhead the broad leaves hung motionless\non their stems; the delicate reed-stalks off in the pearly haze stood\nup arrowy-straight; occasionally a home-returning bee shot humming\nathwart the shade, and a partridge creeping from the sedge drank,\nwhistled to his mate, and ran away. The restfulness of the vale, the\nfreshness of the air, the garden beauty, the Sabbath stillness, seemed\nto have affected the spirits of the elder Egyptian; his voice,\ngestures, and whole manner were unusually gentle; and often as he bent\nhis eyes upon Ben-Hur conversing with Iras, they softened with pity.\n\n\u201cWhen we overtook you, son of Hur,\u201d he said, at the conclusion of the\nrepast, \u201cit seemed your face was also turned towards Jerusalem. May I\nask, without offence, if you are going so far?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am going to the Holy City.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the great need I have to spare myself prolonged toil, I will\nfurther ask you, Is there a shorter road than that by Rabbath-Ammon?\u201d\n\n\u201cA rougher route, but shorter, lies by Gerasa and Rabbath-Gilead. It is\nthe one I design taking.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am impatient,\u201d said Balthasar. \u201cLatterly my sleep has been visited\nby dreams\u2014or rather by the same dream in repetition. A voice\u2014it is\nnothing more\u2014comes and tells me, \u2018Haste\u2014arise! He whom thou hast so\nlong awaited is at hand.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cYou mean he that is to be King of the Jews?\u201d Ben-Hur asked, gazing at\nthe Egyptian in wonder.\n\n\u201cEven so.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you have heard nothing of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing, except the words of the voice in the dream.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere, then, are tidings to make you glad as they made me.\u201d\n\nFrom his gown Ben-Hur drew the letter received from Malluch. The hand\nthe Egyptian held out trembled violently. He read aloud, and as he read\nhis feelings increased; the limp veins in his neck swelled and\nthrobbed. At the conclusion he raised his suffused eyes in thanksgiving\nand prayer. He asked no questions, yet had no doubts.\n\n\u201cThou hast been very good to me, O God,\u201d he said. \u201cGive me, I pray\nthee, to see the Saviour again, and worship him, and thy servant will\nbe ready to go in peace.\u201d\n\nThe words, the manner, the singular personality of the simple prayer,\ntouched Ben-Hur with a sensation new and abiding. God never seemed so\nactual and so near by; it was as if he were there bending over them or\nsitting at their side\u2014a Friend whose favors were to be had by the most\nunceremonious asking\u2014a Father to whom all his children were alike in\nlove\u2014Father, not more of the Jew than of the Gentile\u2014the Universal\nFather, who needed no intermediates, no rabbis, no priests, no\nteachers. The idea that such a God might send mankind a Saviour instead\nof a king appeared to Ben-Hur in a light not merely new, but so plain\nthat he could almost discern both the greater want of such a gift and\nits greater consistency with the nature of such a Deity. So he could\nnot resist asking,\n\n\u201cNow that he has come, O Balthasar, you still think he is to be a\nSaviour, and not a king?\u201d\n\nBalthasar gave him a look thoughtful as it was tender.\n\n\u201cHow shall I understand you?\u201d he asked, in return. \u201cThe Spirit, which\nwas the Star that was my guide of old, has not appeared to me since I\nmet you in the tent of the good sheik; that is to say, I have not seen\nor heard it as formerly. I believe the voice that spoke to me in my\ndreams was it; but other than that I have no revelation.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will recall the difference between us,\u201d said Ben-Hur, with\ndeference. \u201cYou were of opinion that he would be a king, but not as\nC\u00e6sar is; you thought his sovereignty would be spiritual, not of the\nworld.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d the Egyptian answered; \u201cand I am of the same opinion now. I\nsee the divergence in our faith. You are going to meet a king of men, I\na Saviour of souls.\u201d\n\nHe paused with the look often seen when people are struggling, with\nintroverted effort, to disentangle a thought which is either too high\nfor quick discernment or too subtle for simple expression.\n\n\u201cLet me try, O son of Hur,\u201d he said, directly, \u201cand help you to a clear\nunderstanding of my belief; then it may be, seeing how the spiritual\nkingdom I expect him to set up can be more excellent in every sense\nthan anything of mere C\u00e6sarean splendor, you will better understand\nthe reason of the interest I take in the mysterious person we are going\nto welcome.\n\n\u201cI cannot tell you when the idea of a Soul in every man had its origin.\nMost likely the first parents brought it with them out of the garden in\nwhich they had their first dwelling. We all do know, however, that it\nhas never perished entirely out of mind. By some peoples it was lost,\nbut not by all; in some ages it dulled and faded, in others it was\noverwhelmed with doubts; but, in great goodness, God kept sending us at\nintervals mighty intellects to argue it back to faith and hope.\n\n\u201cWhy should there be a Soul in every man? Look, O son of Hur\u2014for one\nmoment look at the necessity of such a device. To lie down and die, and\nbe no more\u2014no more forever\u2014time never was when man wished for such an\nend; nor has the man ever been who did not in his heart promise himself\nsomething better. The monuments of the nations are all protests against\nnothingness after death; so are statues and inscriptions; so is\nhistory. The greatest of our Egyptian kings had his effigy cut-out of a\nhill of solid rock. Day after day he went with a host in chariots to\nsee the work; at last it was finished, never effigy so grand, so\nenduring: it looked like him\u2014the features were his, faithful even in\nexpression. Now may we not think of him saying in that moment of pride,\n\u2018Let Death come; there is an after-life for me!\u2019 He had his wish. The\nstatue is there yet.\n\n\u201cBut what is the after-life he thus secured? Only a recollection by\nmen\u2014a glory unsubstantial as moonshine on the brow of the great bust; a\nstory in stone\u2014nothing more. Meantime what has become of the king?\nThere is an embalmed body up in the royal tombs which once was his\u2014an\neffigy not so fair to look at as the other out in the Desert. But\nwhere, O son of Hur, where is the king himself? Is he fallen into\nnothingness? Two thousand years have gone since he was a man alive as\nyou and I are. Was his last breath the end of him?\n\n\u201cTo say yes would be to accuse God; let us rather accept his better\nplan of attaining life after death for us\u2014actual life, I mean\u2014the\nsomething more than a place in mortal memory; life with going and\ncoming, with sensation, with knowledge, with power and all\nappreciation; life eternal in term though it may be with changes of\ncondition.\n\n\u201cAsk you what God\u2019s plan is? The gift of a Soul to each of us at birth,\nwith this simple law\u2014there shall be no immortality except through the\nSoul. In that law see the necessity of which I spoke.\n\n\u201cLet us turn from the necessity now. A word as to the pleasure there is\nin the thought of a Soul in each of us. In the first place, it robs\ndeath of its terrors by making dying a change for the better, and\nburial but the planting of a seed from which there will spring a new\nlife. In the next place, behold me as I am\u2014weak, weary, old, shrunken\nin body, and graceless; look at my wrinkled face, think of my failing\nsenses, listen to my shrilled voice. Ah! what happiness to me in the\npromise that when the tomb opens, as soon it will, to receive the\nworn-out husk I call myself, the now viewless doors of the universe,\nwhich is but the palace of God, will swing wide ajar to receive me, a\nliberated immortal Soul!\n\n\u201cI would I could tell the ecstasy there must be in that life to come!\nDo not say I know nothing about it. This much I know, and it is enough\nfor me\u2014the being a Soul implies conditions of divine superiority. In\nsuch a being there is no dust, nor any gross thing; it must be finer\nthan air, more impalpable than light, purer than essence\u2014it is life in\nabsolute purity.\n\n\u201cWhat now, O son of Hur? Knowing so much, shall I dispute with myself\nor you about the unnecessaries\u2014about the form of my soul? Or where it\nis to abide? Or whether it eats and drinks? Or is winged, or wears this\nor that? No. It is more becoming to trust in God. The beautiful in this\nworld is all from his hand declaring the perfection of taste; he is the\nauthor of all form; he clothes the lily, he colors the rose, he distils\nthe dew-drop, he makes the music of nature; in a word, he organized us\nfor this life, and imposed its conditions; and they are such guaranty\nto me that, trustful as a little child, I leave to him the organization\nof my Soul, and every arrangement for the life after death. I know he\nloves me.\u201d\n\nThe good man stopped and drank, and the hand carrying the cup to his\nlips trembled; and both Iras and Ben-Hur shared his emotion and\nremained silent. Upon the latter a light was breaking. He was beginning\nto see, as never before, that there might be a spiritual kingdom of\nmore import to men than any earthly empire; and that after all a\nSaviour would indeed be a more godly gift than the greatest king.\n\n\u201cI might ask you now,\u201d said Balthasar, continuing, \u201cwhether this human\nlife, so troubled and brief, is preferable to the perfect and\neverlasting life designed for the Soul? But take the question, and\nthink of it for yourself, formulating thus: Supposing both to be\nequally happy, is one hour more desirable than one year? From that then\nadvance to the final inquiry, what are threescore and ten years on\nearth to all eternity with God? By-and-by, son of Hur, thinking in such\nmanner, you will be filled with the meaning of the fact I present you\nnext, to me the most amazing of all events, and in its effects the most\nsorrowful; it is that the very idea of life as a Soul is a light almost\ngone out in the world. Here and there, to be sure, a philosopher may be\nfound who will talk to you of a Soul, likening it to a principle; but\nbecause philosophers take nothing upon faith, they will not go the\nlength of admitting a Soul to be a being, and on that account its\npurpose is compressed darkness to them.\n\n\u201cEverything animate has a mind measurable by its wants. Is there to you\nno meaning in the singularity that power in full degree to speculate\nupon the future was given to man alone? By the sign as I see it, God\nmeant to make us know ourselves created for another and a better life,\nsuch being in fact the greatest need of our nature. But, alas! into\nwhat a habit the nations have fallen! They live for the day, as if the\npresent were the all in all, and go about saying, \u2018There is no\nto-morrow after death; or if there be, since we know nothing about it,\nbe it a care unto itself.\u2019 So when Death calls them, \u2018Come,\u2019 they may\nnot enter into enjoyment of the glorious after-life because of their\nunfitness. That is to say, the ultimate happiness of man was\neverlasting life in the society of God. Alas, O son of Hur, that I\nshould say it! but as well yon sleeping camel constant in such society\nas the holiest priests this day serving the highest altars in the most\nrenowned temples. So much are men given to this lower earthly life! So\nnearly have they forgotten that other which is to come!\n\n\u201cSee now, I pray you, that which is to be saved to us.\n\n\u201cFor my part, speaking with the holiness of truth, I would not give one\nhour of life as a Soul for a thousand years of life as a man.\u201d\n\nHere the Egyptian seemed to become unconscious of companionship and\nfall away into abstraction.\n\n\u201cThis life has its problems,\u201d he said, \u201cand there are men who spend\ntheir days trying to solve them; but what are they to the problems of\nthe hereafter? What is there like knowing God? Not a scroll of the\nmysteries, but the mysteries themselves would for that hour at least\nlie before me revealed; even the innermost and most awful\u2014the power\nwhich now we shrink from thought of\u2014which rimmed the void with shores,\nand lighted the darkness, and out of nothing appointed the universe.\nAll places would be opened. I would be filled with divine knowledge; I\nwould see all glories, taste all delights; I would revel in being. And\nif, at the end of the hour, it should please God to tell me, \u2018I take\nthee into my service forever,\u2019 the furthest limit of desire would be\npassed; after which the attainable ambitions of life, and its joys of\nwhatever kind, would not be so much as the tinkling of little bells.\u201d\n\nBalthasar paused as if to recover from very ecstasy of feeling; and to\nBen-Hur it seemed the speech had been the delivery of a Soul speaking\nfor itself.\n\n\u201cI pray pardon, son of Hur,\u201d the good man continued, with a bow the\ngravity of which was relieved by the tender look that followed it, \u201cI\nmeant to leave the life of a Soul, its conditions, pleasures,\nsuperiority, to your own reflection and finding out. The joy of the\nthought has betrayed me into much speech. I set out to show, though\never so faintly, the reason of my faith. It grieves me that words are\nso weak. But help yourself to truth. Consider first the excellence of\nthe existence which was reserved for us after death, and give heed to\nthe feelings and impulses the thought is sure to awaken in you\u2014heed\nthem, I say, because they are your own Soul astir, doing what it can to\nurge you in the right way. Consider next that the afterlife has become\nso obscured as to justify calling it a lost light. If you find it,\nrejoice, O son of Hur\u2014rejoice as I do, though in beggary of words. For\nthen, besides the great gift which is to be saved to us, you will have\nfound the need of a Saviour so infinitely greater than the need of a\nking; and he we are going to meet will not longer hold place in your\nhope a warrior with a sword or a monarch with a crown.\n\n\u201cA practical question presents itself\u2014How shall we know him at sight?\nIf you continue in your belief as to his character\u2014that he is to be a\nking as Herod was\u2014of course you will keep on until you meet a man\nclothed in purple and with a sceptre. On the other hand, he I look for\nwill be one poor, humble, undistinguished\u2014a man in appearance as other\nmen; and the sign by which I will know him will be never so simple. He\nwill offer to show me and all mankind the way to the eternal life; the\nbeautiful pure Life of the Soul.\u201d\n\nThe company sat a moment in silence which was broken by Balthasar.\n\n\u201cLet us arise now,\u201d he said\u2014\u201clet us arise and set forward again. What I\nhave said has caused a return of impatience to see him who is ever in\nmy thought; and if I seem to hurry you, O son of Hur\u2014and you, my\ndaughter\u2014be that my excuse.\u201d\n\nAt his signal the slave brought them wine in a skin bottle; and they\npoured and drank, and shaking the lap-cloths out arose.\n\nWhile the slave restored the tent and wares to the box under the\nhoudah, and the Arab brought up the horses, the three principals laved\nthemselves in the pool.\n\nIn a little while they were retracing their steps back through the\nwady, intending to overtake the caravan if it had passed them by.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nThe caravan, stretched out upon the Desert, was very picturesque; in\nmotion, however, it was like a lazy serpent. By-and-by its stubborn\ndragging became intolerably irksome to Balthasar, patient as he was;\nso, at his suggestion, the party determined to go on by themselves.\n\nIf the reader be young, or if he has yet a sympathetic recollection of\nthe romanticisms of his youth, he will relish the pleasure with which\nBen-Hur, riding near the camel of the Egyptians, gave a last look at\nthe head of the straggling column almost out of sight on the shimmering\nplain.\n\nTo be definite as may be, and perfectly confidential, Ben-Hur found a\ncertain charm in Iras\u2019s presence. If she looked down upon him from her\nhigh place, he made haste to get near her; if she spoke to him, his\nheart beat out of its usual time. The desire to be agreeable to her was\na constant impulse. Objects on the way, though ever so common, became\ninteresting the moment she called attention to them; a black swallow in\nthe air pursued by her pointing finger went off in a halo; if a bit of\nquartz or a flake of mica was seen to sparkle in the drab sand under\nkissing of the sun, at a word he turned aside and brought it to her;\nand if she threw it away in disappointment, far from thinking of the\ntrouble he had been put to, he was sorry it proved so worthless, and\nkept a lookout for something better\u2014a ruby, perchance a diamond. So the\npurple of the far mountains became intensely deep and rich if she\ndistinguished it with an exclamation of praise; and when, now and then,\nthe curtain of the houdah fell down, it seemed a sudden dulness had\ndropped from the sky bedraggling all the landscape. Thus disposed,\nyielding to the sweet influence, what shall save him from the dangers\nthere are in days of the close companionship with the fair Egyptian\nincident to the solitary journey they were entered upon?\n\nFor that there is no logic in love, nor the least mathematical element,\nit is simply natural that she shall fashion the result who has the\nwielding of the influence.\n\nTo quicken the conclusion, there were signs, too, that she well knew\nthe influence she was exercising over him. From some place under hand\nshe had since morning drawn a caul of golden coins, and adjusted it so\nthe gleaming strings fell over her forehead and upon her cheeks,\nblending lustrously with the flowing of her blue-black hair. From the\nsame safe deposit she had also produced articles of jewelry\u2014rings for\nfinger and ear, bracelets, a necklace of pearls\u2014also, a shawl\nembroidered with threads of fine gold\u2014the effect of all which she\nsoftened with a scarf of Indian lace skillfully folded about her throat\nand shoulders. And so arrayed, she plied Ben-Hur with countless\ncoquetries of speech and manner; showering him with smiles; laughing in\nflute-like tremolo\u2014and all the while following him with glances, now\nmelting-tender, now sparkling-bright. By such play Antony was weaned\nfrom his glory; yet she who wrought his ruin was really not half so\nbeautiful as this her countrywoman.\n\nAnd so to them the nooning came, and the evening.\n\nThe sun at its going down behind a spur of the old Bashan, left the\nparty halted by a pool of clear water of the rains out in the Abilene\nDesert. There the tent was pitched, the supper eaten, and preparations\nmade for the night.\n\nThe second watch was Ben-Hur\u2019s; and he was standing, spear in hand,\nwithin arm-reach of the dozing camel, looking awhile at the stars, then\nover the veiled land. The stillness was intense; only after long spells\na warm breath of wind would sough past, but without disturbing him, for\nyet in thought he entertained the Egyptian, recounting her charms, and\nsometimes debating how she came by his secrets, the uses she might make\nof them, and the course he should pursue with her. And through all the\ndebate Love stood off but a little way\u2014a strong temptation, the\nstronger of a gleam of policy behind. At the very moment he was most\ninclined to yield to the allurement, a hand very fair even in the\nmoonless gloaming was laid softly upon his shoulder. The touch thrilled\nhim; he started, turned\u2014and she was there.\n\n\u201cI thought you asleep,\u201d he said, presently.\n\n\u201cSleep is for old people and little children, and I came out to look at\nmy friends, the stars in the south\u2014those now holding the curtains of\nmidnight over the Nile. But confess yourself surprised!\u201d\n\nHe took the hand which had fallen from his shoulder, and said, \u201cWell,\nwas it by an enemy?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no! To be an enemy is to hate, and hating is a sickness which Isis\nwill not suffer to come near me. She kissed me, you should know, on the\nheart when I was a child.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour speech does not sound in the least like your father\u2019s. Are you\nnot of his faith?\u201d\n\n\u201cI might have been\u201d\u2014and she laughed low\u2014\u201cI might have been had I seen\nwhat he has. I may be when I get old like him. There should be no\nreligion for youth, only poetry and philosophy; and no poetry except\nsuch as is the inspiration of wine and mirth and love, and no\nphilosophy that does not nod excuse for follies which cannot outlive a\nseason. My father\u2019s God is too awful for me. I failed to find him in\nthe Grove of Daphne. He was never heard of as present in the atria of\nRome. But, son of Hur, I have a wish.\u201d\n\n\u201cA wish! Where is he who could say it no?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will try you.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell it then.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is very simple. I wish to help you.\u201d\n\nShe drew closer as she spoke.\n\nHe laughed, and replied, lightly, \u201cO Egypt!\u2014I came near saying dear\nEgypt!\u2014does not the sphinx abide in your country?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are one of its riddles. Be merciful, and give me a little clew to\nhelp me understand you. In what do I need help? And how can you help\nme?\u201d\n\nShe took her hand from him, and, turning to the camel, spoke to it\nendearingly, and patted its monstrous head as it were a thing of\nbeauty.\n\n\u201cO thou last and swiftest and stateliest of the herds of Job! Sometimes\nthou, too, goest stumbling, because the way is rough and stony and the\nburden grievous. How is it thou knowest the kind intent by a word; and\nalways makest answer gratefully, though the help offered is from a\nwoman? I will kiss thee, thou royal brute!\u201d\u2014she stooped and touched its\nbroad forehead with her lips, saying immediately, \u201cbecause in thy\nintelligence there is no suspicion!\u201d\n\nAnd Ben-Hur, restraining himself, said calmly, \u201cThe reproach has not\nfailed its mark, O Egypt! I seem to say thee no; may it not be because\nI am under seal of honor, and by my silence cover the lives and\nfortunes of others?\u201d\n\n\u201cMay be!\u201d she said, quickly. \u201cIt is so.\u201d\n\nHe shrank a step, and asked, his voice sharp with amazement, \u201cWhat all\nknowest thou?\u201d\n\nShe answered, after a laugh,\n\n\u201cWhy do men deny that the senses of women are sharper than theirs? Your\nface has been under my eyes all day. I had but to look at it to see you\nbore some weight in mind; and to find the weight, what had I to do more\nthan recall your debates with my father? Son of Hur!\u201d\u2014she lowered her\nvoice with singular dexterity, and, going nearer, spoke so her breath\nwas warm upon his cheek\u2014\u201cson of Hur! he thou art going to find is to be\nKing of the Jews, is he not?\u201d\n\nHis heart beat fast and hard.\n\n\u201cA King of the Jews like Herod, only greater,\u201d she continued.\n\nHe looked away\u2014into the night, up to the stars; then his eyes met hers,\nand lingered there; and her breath was on his lips, so near was she.\n\n\u201cSince morning,\u201d she said, further, \u201cwe have been having visions. Now\nif I tell you mine, will you serve me as well? What! silent still?\u201d\n\nShe pushed his hand away, and turned as if to go; but he caught her,\nand said, eagerly, \u201cStay\u2014stay and speak!\u201d\n\nShe went back, and with her hand upon his shoulder, leaned against him;\nand he put his arm around her, and drew her close, very close; and in\nthe caress was the promise she asked.\n\n\u201cSpeak, and tell me thy visions, O Egypt, dear Egypt! A prophet\u2014nay,\nnot the Tishbite, not even the Lawgiver\u2014could have refused an asking of\nthine. I am at thy will. Be merciful\u2014merciful, I pray.\u201d\n\nThe entreaty passed apparently unheard, for looking up and nestling in\nhis embrace, she said, slowly, \u201cThe vision which followed me was of\nmagnificent war\u2014war on land and sea\u2014with clashing of arms and rush of\narmies, as if C\u00e6sar and Pompey were come again, and Octavius and\nAntony. A cloud of dust and ashes arose and covered the world, and Rome\nwas not any more; all dominion returned to the East; out of the cloud\nissued another race of heroes; and there were vaster satrapies and\nbrighter crowns for giving away than were ever known. And, son of Hur,\nwhile the vision was passing, and after it was gone, I kept asking\nmyself, \u2018What shall he not have who served the King earliest and\nbest?\u2019\u201d\n\nAgain Ben-Hur recoiled. The question was the very question which had\nbeen with him all day. Presently he fancied he had the clew he wanted.\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d he said, \u201cI have you now. The satrapies and crowns are the things\nto which you would help me. I see, I see! And there never was such\nqueen as you would be, so shrewd, so beautiful, so royal\u2014never! But,\nalas, dear Egypt! by the vision as you show it me the prizes are all of\nwar, and you are but a woman, though Isis did kiss you on the heart.\nAnd crowns are starry gifts beyond your power of help, unless, indeed,\nyou have a way to them more certain than that of the sword. If so, O\nEgypt, Egypt, show it me, and I will walk in it, if only for your\nsake.\u201d\n\nShe removed his arm, and said, \u201cSpread your cloak upon the sand\u2014here,\nso I can rest against the camel. I will sit, and tell you a story which\ncame down the Nile to Alexandria, where I had it.\u201d\n\nHe did as she said, first planting the spear in the ground near by.\n\n\u201cAnd what shall I do?\u201d he said, ruefully, when she was seated. \u201cIn\nAlexandria is it customary for the listeners to sit or stand?\u201d\n\nFrom the comfortable place against the old domestic she answered,\nlaughing, \u201cThe audiences of story-tellers are wilful, and sometimes\nthey do as they please.\u201d\n\nWithout more ado he stretched himself upon the sand, and put her arm\nabout his neck.\n\n\u201cI am ready,\u201d he said.\n\nAnd directly she began:\n\nHOW THE BEAUTIFUL CAME TO THE EARTH.\n\n\u201cYou must know, in the first place, that Isis was\u2014and, for that matter,\nshe may yet be\u2014the most beautiful of deities; and Osiris, her husband,\nthough wise and powerful, was sometimes stung with jealousy of her, for\nonly in their loves are the gods like mortals.\n\n\u201cThe palace of the Divine Wife was of silver, crowning the tallest\nmountain in the moon, and thence she passed often to the sun, in the\nheart of which, a source of eternal light, Osiris kept his palace of\ngold too shining for men to look at.\n\n\u201cOne time\u2014there are no days with the gods\u2014while she was full pleasantly\nwith him on the roof of the golden palace, she chanced to look, and\nafar, just on the line of the universe, saw Indra passing with an army\nof simians, all borne upon the backs of flying eagles. He, the Friend\nof Living Things\u2014so with much love is Indra called\u2014was returning from\nhis final war with the hideous Rakshakas\u2014returning victorious; and in\nhis suite were Rama, the hero, and Sita, his bride, who, next to Isis\nherself, was the very most beautiful. And Isis arose, and took off her\ngirdle of stars, and waved it to Sita\u2014to Sita, mind you\u2014waved it in\nglad salute. And instantly, between the marching host and the two on\nthe golden roof, a something as of night fell, and shut out the view;\nbut it was not night\u2014only the frown of Osiris.\n\n\u201cIt happened the subject of his speech that moment was such as none\nelse than they could think of; and he arose, and said, majestically,\n\u2018Get thee home. I will do the work myself. To make a perfectly happy\nbeing I do not need thy help. Get thee gone.\u2019\n\n\u201cNow Isis had eyes large as those of the white cow which in the temple\neats sweet grasses from the hands of the faithful even while they say\ntheir prayers; and her eyes were the color of the cows, and quite as\ntender. And she too arose and said, smiling as she spoke, so her look\nwas little more than the glow of the moon in the hazy harvest-month,\n\u2018Farewell, good my lord. You will call me presently, I know; for\nwithout me you cannot make the perfectly happy creature of which you\nwere thinking, any more\u2019\u2014and she stopped to laugh, knowing well the\ntruth of the saying\u2014\u2018any more, my lord, than you yourself can be\nperfectly happy without me.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018We will see,\u2019 he said.\n\n\u201cAnd she went her way, and took her needles and her chair, and on the\nroof of the silver palace sat watching and knitting.\n\n\u201cAnd the will of Osiris, at labor in his mighty breast, was as the\nsound of the mills of all the other gods grinding at once, so loud that\nthe near stars rattled like seeds in a parched pod; and some dropped\nout and were lost. And while the sound kept on she waited and knit; nor\nlost she ever a stitch the while.\n\n\u201cSoon a spot appeared in the space over towards the sun; and it grew\nuntil it was great as the moon, and then she knew a world was intended;\nbut when, growing and growing, at last it cast her planet in the shade,\nall save the little point lighted by her presence, she knew how very\nangry he was; yet she knit away, assured that the end would be as she\nhad said.\n\n\u201cAnd so came the earth, at first but a cold gray mass hanging listless\nin the hollow void. Later she saw it separate into divisions; here a\nplain, there a mountain, yonder a sea, all as yet without a sparkle.\nAnd then, by a river-bank, something moved; and she stopped her\nknitting for wonder. The something arose, and lifted its hands to the\nsun in sign of knowledge whence it had its being. And this First Man\nwas beautiful to see. And about him were the creations we call\nnature\u2014the grass, the trees, birds, beasts, even the insects and\nreptiles.\n\n\u201cAnd for a time the man went about happy in his life: it was easy to\nsee how happy he was. And in the lull of the sound of the laboring will\nIsis heard a scornful laugh, and presently the words, blown across from\nthe sun,\n\n\u201c\u2018Thy help, indeed! Behold a creature perfectly happy!\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd Isis fell to knitting again, for she was patient as Osiris was\nstrong; and if he could work, she could wait; and wait she did, knowing\nthat mere life is not enough to keep anything content.\n\n\u201cAnd sure enough. Not long until the Divine Wife could see a change in\nthe man. He grew listless, and kept to one place prone by the river,\nand looked up but seldom, and then always with a moody face. Interest\nwas dying in him. And when she made sure of it, even while she was\nsaying to herself, \u2018The creature is sick of his being,\u2019 there was a\nroar of the creative will at work again, and in a twinkling the earth,\ntheretofore all a thing of coldest gray, flamed with colors; the\nmountains swam in purple, the plains bearing grass and trees turned\ngreen, the sea blue, and the clouds varied infinitely.\u201d\n\nAnd the man sprang up and clapped his hands, for he was cured and happy\nagain.\n\n\u201cAnd Isis smiled, and knit away, saying to herself, \u2018It was well\nthought, and will do a little while; but mere beauty in a world is not\nenough for such a being. My lord must try again.\u2019\n\n\u201cWith the last word, the thunder of the will at work shook the moon,\nand, looking, Isis dropped her knitting and clapped her hands; for\ntheretofore everything on the earth but the man had been fixed to a\ngiven place; now all living, and much that was not living, received the\ngift of Motion. The birds took to wing joyously; beasts great and small\nwent about, each in its way; the trees shook their verdurous branches,\nnodding to the enamoured winds; the rivers ran to the seas, and the\nseas tossed in their beds and rolled in crested waves, and with surging\nand ebbing painted the shores with glistening foam; and over all the\nclouds floated like sailed ships unanchored.\n\n\u201cAnd the man rose up happy as a child; whereat Osiris was pleased, so\nthat he shouted, \u2018Ha, ha! See how well I am doing without thee!\u2019\n\n\u201cThe good wife took up her work, and answered ever so quietly, \u2018It was\nwell thought, my lord\u2014ever so well thought\u2014and will serve awhile.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd as before, so again. The sight of things in motion became to the\nman as of course. The birds in flight, the rivers running, the seas in\ntumult of action, ceased to amuse him, and he pined again even worse.\n\n\u201cAnd Isis waited, saying to herself, \u2018Poor creature! He is more\nwretched than ever.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd, as if he heard the thought, Osiris stirred, and the noise of his\nwill shook the universe; the sun in its central seat alone stood firm.\nAnd Isis looked, but saw no change; then while she was smiling, assured\nthat her lord\u2019s last invention was sped, suddenly the creature arose,\nand seemed to listen; and his face brightened, and he clapped his hands\nfor joy, for Sounds were heard the first time on earth\u2014sounds\ndissonant, sounds harmonious. The winds murmured in the trees; the\nbirds sang, each kind a song of its own, or chattered in speech; the\nrivulets running to the rivers became so many harpers with harps of\nsilver strings all tinkling together; and the rivers running to the\nseas surged on in solemn accord, while the seas beat the land to a tune\nof thunder. There was music, music everywhere, and all the time; so the\nman could not but be happy.\n\n\u201cThen Isis mused, thinking how well, how wondrous well, her lord was\ndoing; but presently she shook her head: Color, Motion, Sound\u2014and she\nrepeated them slowly\u2014there was no element else of beauty except Form\nand Light, and to them the earth had been born. Now, indeed, Osiris was\ndone; and if the creature should again fall off into wretchedness, her\nhelp must be asked; and her fingers flew\u2014two, three, five, even ten\nstitches she took at once.\n\n\u201cAnd the man was happy a long time\u2014longer than ever before; it seemed,\nindeed, he would never tire again. But Isis knew better; and she waited\nand waited, nor minded the many laughs flung at her from the sun; she\nwaited and waited, and at last saw signs of the end. Sounds became\nfamiliar to him, and in their range, from the chirruping of the cricket\nunder the roses to the roar of the seas and the bellow of the clouds in\nstorm, there was not anything unusual. And he pined and sickened, and\nsought his place of moping by the river, and at last fell down\nmotionless.\n\n\u201cThen Isis in pity spoke.\n\n\u201c\u2018My lord,\u2019 she said, \u2018the creature is dying.\u2019\n\n\u201cBut Osiris, though seeing it all, held his peace; he could do no more.\n\n\u201c\u2018Shall I help him?\u2019 she asked.\n\n\u201cOsiris was too proud to speak.\n\n\u201cThen Isis took the last stitch in her knitting, and gathering her work\nin a roll of brilliance flung it off\u2014flung it so it fell close to the\nman. And he, hearing the sound of the fall so near by, looked up, and\nlo! a Woman\u2014the First Woman\u2014was stooping to help him! She reached a\nhand to him; he caught it and arose; and nevermore was miserable, but\nevermore happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuch, O son of Hur! is the genesis of the beautiful, as they tell it\non the Nile.\u201d\n\nShe paused.\n\n\u201cA pretty invention, and cunning,\u201d he said, directly; \u201cbut it is\nimperfect. What did Osiris afterwards?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d she replied. \u201cHe called the Divine Wife back to the sun, and\nthey went on all pleasantly together, each helping the other.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd shall I not do as the first man?\u201d\n\nHe carried the hand resting upon his neck to his lips. \u201cIn love\u2014in\nlove!\u201d he said.\n\nHis head dropped softly into her lap.\n\n\u201cYou will find the King,\u201d she said, placing her other hand caressingly\nupon his head. \u201cYou will go on and find the King and serve him. With\nyour sword you will earn his richest gifts; and his best soldier will\nbe my hero.\u201d\n\nHe turned his face, and saw hers close above. In all the sky there was\nthat moment nothing so bright to him as her eyes, enshadowed though\nthey were. Presently he sat up, and put his arms about her, and kissed\nher passionately, saying, \u201cO Egypt, Egypt! If the King has crowns in\ngift, one shall be mine; and I will bring it and put it here over the\nplace my lips have marked. You shall be a queen\u2014my queen\u2014no one more\nbeautiful! And we will be ever, ever so happy!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you will tell me everything, and let me help you in all?\u201d she\nsaid, kissing him in return.\n\nThe question chilled his fervor.\n\n\u201cIs it not enough that I love you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cPerfect love means perfect faith,\u201d she replied. \u201cBut never mind\u2014you\nwill know me better.\u201d\n\nShe took her hand from him and arose.\n\n\u201cYou are cruel,\u201d he said.\n\nMoving away, she stopped by the camel, and touched its front face with\nher lips.\n\n\u201cO thou noblest of thy kind!\u2014that, because there is no suspicion in thy\nlove.\u201d\n\nAn instant, and she was gone.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nThe third day of the journey the party nooned by the river Jabbok,\nwhere there were a hundred or more men, mostly of Peraea, resting\nthemselves and their beasts. Hardly had they dismounted, before a man\ncame to them with a pitcher of water and a bowl, and offered them\ndrink; as they received the attention with much courtesy, he said,\nlooking at the camel, \u201cI am returning from the Jordan, where just now\nthere are many people from distant parts, travelling as you are,\nillustrious friend; but they had none of them the equal of your servant\nhere. A very noble animal. May I ask of what breed he is sprung?\u201d\n\nBalthasar answered, and sought his rest; but Ben-Hur, more curious,\ntook up the remark.\n\n\u201cAt what place on the river are the people?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cAt Bethabara.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt used to be a lonesome ford,\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cI cannot understand how\nit can have become of such interest.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see,\u201d the stranger replied; \u201cyou, too, are from abroad, and have not\nheard the good tidings.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat tidings?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, a man has appeared out of the wilderness\u2014a very holy man\u2014with\nhis mouth full of strange words, which take hold of all who hear them.\nHe calls himself John the Nazarite, son of Zacharias, and says he is\nthe messenger sent before the Messiah.\u201d\n\nEven Iras listened closely while the man continued:\n\n\u201cThey say of this John that he has spent his life from childhood in a\ncave down by En-Gedi, praying and living more strictly than the\nEssenes. Crowds go to hear him preach. I went to hear him with the\nrest.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave all these, your friends, been there?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost of them are going; a few are coming away.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does he preach?\u201d\n\n\u201cA new doctrine\u2014one never before taught in Israel, as all say. He calls\nit repentance and baptism. The rabbis do not know what to make of him;\nnor do we. Some have asked him if he is the Christ, others if he is\nElias; but to them all he has the answer, \u2018I am the voice of one crying\nin the wilderness, Make straight the way of the Lord!\u2019\u201d\n\nAt this point the man was called away by his friends; as he was going,\nBalthasar spoke.\n\n\u201cGood stranger!\u201d he said, tremulously, \u201ctell us if we shall find the\npreacher at the place you left him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, at Bethabara.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho should this Nazarite be?\u201d said Ben-Hur to Iras, \u201cif not the herald\nof our King?\u201d\n\nIn so short a time he had come to regard the daughter as more\ninterested in the mysterious personage he was looking for than the aged\nfather! Nevertheless, the latter with a positive glow in his sunken\neyes half arose, and said,\n\n\u201cLet us make haste. I am not tired.\u201d\n\nThey turned away to help the slave.\n\nThere was little conversation between the three at the stopping-place\nfor the night west of Ramoth-Gilead.\n\n\u201cLet us arise early, son of Hur,\u201d said the old man. \u201cThe Saviour may\ncome, and we not there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe King cannot be far behind his herald,\u201d Iras whispered, as she\nprepared to take her place on the camel.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow we will see!\u201d Ben-Hur replied, kissing her hand.\n\nNext day about the third hour, out of the pass through which, skirting\nthe base of Mount Gilead, they had journeyed since leaving Ramoth, the\nparty came upon the barren steppe east of the sacred river. Opposite\nthem they saw the upper limit of the old palm lands of Jericho,\nstretching off to the hill-country of Judea. Ben-Hur\u2019s blood ran\nquickly, for he knew the ford was close at hand.\n\n\u201cContent you, good Balthasar,\u201d he said; \u201cwe are almost there.\u201d\n\nThe driver quickened the camel\u2019s pace. Soon they caught sight of booths\nand tents and tethered animals; and then of the river, and a multitude\ncollected down close by the bank, and yet another multitude on the\nwestern shore. Knowing that the preacher was preaching, they made\ngreater haste; yet, as they were drawing near, suddenly there was a\ncommotion in the mass, and it began to break up and disperse.\n\nThey were too late!\n\n\u201cLet us stay here,\u201d said Ben-Hur to Balthasar, who was wringing his\nhands. \u201cThe Nazarite may come this way.\u201d\n\nThe people were too intent upon what they had heard, and too busy in\ndiscussion, to notice the new-comers. When some hundreds were gone by,\nand it seemed the opportunity to so much as see the Nazarite was lost\nto the latter, up the river not far away they beheld a person coming\ntowards them of such singular appearance they forgot all else.\n\nOutwardly the man was rude and uncouth, even savage. Over a thin, gaunt\nvisage of the hue of brown parchment, over his shoulders and down his\nback below the middle, in witch-like locks, fell a covering of\nsun-scorched hair. His eyes were burning-bright. All his right side was\nnaked, and of the color of his face, and quite as meagre; a shirt of\nthe coarsest camel\u2019s-hair\u2014coarse as Bedouin tent-cloth\u2014clothed the rest\nof his person to the knees, being gathered at the waist by a broad\ngirdle of untanned leather. His feet were bare. A scrip, also of\nuntanned leather, was fastened to the girdle. He used a knotted staff\nto help him forward. His movement was quick, decided, and strangely\nwatchful. Every little while he tossed the unruly hair from his eyes,\nand peered round as if searching for somebody.\n\nThe fair Egyptian surveyed the son of the Desert with surprise, not to\nsay disgust. Presently, raising the curtain of the houdah, she spoke to\nBen-Hur, who sat his horse near by.\n\n\u201cIs that the herald of thy King?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the Nazarite,\u201d he replied, without looking up.\n\nIn truth, he was himself more than disappointed. Despite his\nfamiliarity with the ascetic colonists in En-Gedi\u2014their dress, their\nindifference to all worldly opinion, their constancy to vows which gave\nthem over to every imaginable suffering of body, and separated them\nfrom others of their kind as absolutely as if they had not been born\nlike them\u2014and notwithstanding he had been notified on the way to look\nfor a Nazarite whose simple description of himself was a Voice from the\nWilderness\u2014still Ben-Hur\u2019s dream of the King who was to be so great and\ndo so much had colored all his thought of him, so that he never doubted\nto find in the forerunner some sign or token of the goodliness and\nroyalty he was announcing. Gazing at the savage figure before him, the\nlong trains of courtiers whom he had been used to see in the thermae\nand imperial corridors at Rome arose before him, forcing a comparison.\nShocked, shamed, bewildered, he could only answer,\n\n\u201cIt is the Nazarite.\u201d\n\nWith Balthasar it was very different. The ways of God, he knew, were\nnot as men would have them. He had seen the Saviour a child in a\nmanger, and was prepared by his faith for the rude and simple in\nconnection with the Divine reappearance. So he kept his seat, his hands\ncrossed upon his breast, his lips moving in prayer. He was not\nexpecting a king.\n\nIn this time of such interest to the new-comers, and in which they were\nso differently moved, another man had been sitting by himself on a\nstone at the edge of the river, thinking yet, probably, of the sermon\nhe had been hearing. Now, however, he arose, and walked slowly up from\nthe shore, in a course to take him across the line the Nazarite was\npursuing and bring him near the camel.\n\nAnd the two\u2014the preacher and the stranger\u2014kept on until they came, the\nformer within twenty yards of the animal, the latter within ten feet.\nThen the preacher stopped, and flung the hair from his eyes, looked at\nthe stranger, threw his hands up as a signal to all the people in\nsight; and they also stopped, each in the pose of a listener; and when\nthe hush was perfect, slowly the staff in the Nazarite\u2019s right hand\ncame down and pointed to the stranger.\n\nAll those who before were but listeners became watchers also.\n\nAt the same instant, under the same impulse, Balthasar and Ben-Hur\nfixed their gaze upon the man pointed out, and both took the same\nimpression, only in different degree. He was moving slowly towards them\nin a clear space a little to their front, a form slightly above the\naverage in stature, and slender, even delicate. His action was calm and\ndeliberate, like that habitual to men much given to serious thought\nupon grave subjects; and it well became his costume, which was an\nundergarment full-sleeved and reaching to the ankles, and an outer robe\ncalled the talith; on his left arm he carried the usual handkerchief\nfor the head, the red fillet swinging loose down his side. Except the\nfillet and a narrow border of blue at the lower edge of the talith, his\nattire was of linen yellowed with dust and road stains. Possibly the\nexception should be extended to the tassels, which were blue and white,\nas prescribed by law for rabbis. His sandals were of the simplest kind.\nHe was without scrip or girdle or staff.\n\nThese points of appearance, however, the three beholders observed\nbriefly, and rather as accessories to the head and face of the man,\nwhich\u2014especially the latter\u2014were the real sources of the spell they\ncaught in common with all who stood looking at him.\n\nThe head was open to the cloudless light, except as it was draped with\nhair long and slightly waved, and parted in the middle, and auburn in\ntint, with a tendency to reddish golden where most strongly touched by\nthe sun. Under a broad, low forehead, under black well arched brows,\nbeamed eyes dark-blue and large, and softened to exceeding tenderness\nby lashes of the great length sometimes seen on children, but seldom,\nif ever, on men. As to the other features, it would have been difficult\nto decide whether they were Greek or Jewish. The delicacy of the\nnostrils and mouth was unusual to the latter type; and when it was\ntaken into account with the gentleness of the eyes, the pallor of the\ncomplexion, the fine texture of the hair, and the softness of the\nbeard, which fell in waves over his throat to his breast, never a\nsoldier but would have laughed at him in encounter, never a woman who\nwould not have confided in him at sight, never a child that would not,\nwith quick instinct, have given him its hand and whole artless trust;\nnor might any one have said he was not beautiful.\n\nThe features, it should be further said, were ruled by a certain\nexpression which, as the viewer chose, might with equal correctness\nhave been called the effect of intelligence, love, pity, or sorrow;\nthough, in better speech, it was a blending of them all\u2014a look easy to\nfancy as the mark of a sinless soul doomed to the sight and\nunderstanding of the utter sinfulness of those among whom it was\npassing; yet withal no one could have observed the face with a thought\nof weakness in the man; so, at least, would not they who know that the\nqualities mentioned\u2014love, sorrow, pity\u2014are the results of a\nconsciousness of strength to bear suffering oftener than strength to\ndo; such has been the might of martyrs and devotees and the myriads\nwritten down in saintly calendars. And such, indeed, was the air of\nthis one.\n\nSlowly he drew near\u2014nearer the three.\n\nNow Ben-Hur, mounted and spear in hand, was an object to claim the\nglance of a king; yet the eyes of the man approaching were all the time\nraised above him\u2014and not to Iras, whose loveliness has been so often\nremarked, but to Balthasar, the old and unserviceable.\n\nThe hush was profound.\n\nPresently the Nazarite, still pointing with his staff, cried, in a loud\nvoice,\n\n\u201cBehold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!\u201d\n\nThe many standing still, arrested by the action of the speaker, and\nlistening for what might follow, were struck with awe by words so\nstrange and past their understanding; upon Balthasar they were\noverpowering. He was there to see once more the Redeemer of men. The\nfaith which had brought him the singular privileges of the time long\ngone abode yet in his heart; and if now it gave him a power of vision\nabove that of his fellows\u2014a power to see and know him for whom he was\nlooking\u2014better than calling the power a miracle, let it be thought of\nas the faculty of a soul not yet entirely released from the divine\nrelations to which it had been formerly admitted, or as the fitting\nreward of a life in that age so without examples of holiness\u2014a life\nitself a miracle. The ideal of his faith was before him, perfect in\nface, form, dress, action, age; and he was in its view, and the view\nwas recognition. Ah, now if something should happen to identify the\nstranger beyond all doubt!\n\nAnd that was what did happen.\n\nExactly at the fitting moment, as if to assure the trembling Egyptian,\nthe Nazarite repeated the outcry,\n\n\u201cBehold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!\u201d\n\nBalthasar fell upon his knees. For him there was no need of\nexplanation; and as if the Nazarite knew it, he turned to those more\nimmediately about him staring in wonder, and continued:\n\n\u201cThis is he of whom I said, After me cometh a man which is preferred\nbefore me, for he was before me. And I knew him not: but that he should\nbe manifest to Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water. I saw\nthe Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it abode upon him.\nAnd I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same\nsaid unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending and\nremaining on him, the same is he which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost.\nAnd I saw and bare record, that this\u201d\u2014he paused, his staff still\npointing at the stranger in the white garments, as if to give a more\nabsolute certainty to both his words and the conclusions intended\u2014\u201cI\nbare record, THAT THIS IS THE SON OF GOD!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is he, it is he!\u201d Balthasar cried, with upraised tearful eyes. Next\nmoment he sank down insensible.\n\nIn this time, it should be remembered, Ben-Hur was studying the face of\nthe stranger, though with an interest entirely different. He was not\ninsensible to its purity of feature, and its thoughtfulness,\ntenderness, humility, and holiness; but just then there was room in his\nmind for but one thought\u2014Who is this man? And what? Messiah or king?\nNever was apparition more unroyal. Nay, looking at that calm, benignant\ncountenance, the very idea of war and conquest, and lust of dominion,\nsmote him like a profanation. He said, as if speaking to his own heart,\nBalthasar must be right and Simonides wrong. This man has not come to\nrebuild the throne of Solomon; he has neither the nature nor the genius\nof Herod; king he may be, but not of another and greater than Rome.\n\nIt should be understood now that this was not a conclusion with\nBen-Hur, but an impression merely; and while it was forming, while yet\nhe gazed at the wonderful countenance, his memory began to throe and\nstruggle. \u201cSurely,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cI have seen the man; but where\nand when?\u201d That the look, so calm, so pitiful, so loving, had somewhere\nin a past time beamed upon him as that moment it was beaming upon\nBalthasar became an assurance. Faintly at first, at last a clear light,\na burst of sunshine, the scene by the well at Nazareth what time the\nRoman guard was dragging him to the galleys returned, and all his being\nthrilled. Those hands had helped him when he was perishing. The face\nwas one of the pictures he had carried in mind ever since. In the\neffusion of feeling excited, the explanation of the preacher was lost\nby him, all but the last words\u2014words so marvellous that the world yet\nrings with them:\n\n\u201c\u2014this is the SON OF GOD!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur leaped from his horse to render homage to his benefactor; but\nIras cried to him, \u201cHelp, son of Hur, help, or my father will die!\u201d\n\nHe stopped, looked back, then hurried to her assistance. She gave him a\ncup; and leaving the slave to bring the camel to its knees, he ran to\nthe river for water. The stranger was gone when he came back.\n\nAt last Balthasar was restored to consciousness. Stretching forth his\nhands, he asked, feebly, \u201cWhere is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d asked Iras.\n\nAn intense instant interest shone upon the good man\u2019s face, as if a\nlast wish had been gratified, and he answered,\n\n\u201cHe\u2014the Redeemer\u2014the Son of God, whom I have seen again.\u201d\n\n\u201cBelievest thou so?\u201d Iras asked in a low voice of Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cThe time is full of wonders; let us wait,\u201d was all he said.\n\nAnd next day while the three were listening to him, the Nazarite broke\noff in mid-speech, saying reverently, \u201cBehold the Lamb of God!\u201d\n\nLooking to where he pointed, they beheld the stranger again. As Ben-Hur\nsurveyed the slender figure, and holy beautiful countenance\ncompassionate to sadness, a new idea broke upon him.\n\n\u201cBalthasar is right\u2014so is Simonides. May not the Redeemer be a king\nalso?\u201d\n\nAnd he asked one at his side, \u201cWho is the man walking yonder?\u201d\n\nThe other laughed mockingly, and replied,\n\n\u201cHe is the son of a carpenter over in Nazareth.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nBOOK EIGHTH\n\n\n\u201cWho could resist? Who in this universe?\nShe did so breathe ambrosia, so immerse\nMy fine existence in a golden clime.\nShe took me like a child of suckling-time,\nAnd cradled me in roses. Thus condemn\u2019d,\nThe current of my former life was stemm\u2019d,\nAnd to this arbitrary queen of sense\nI bow\u2019d a tranced vassal.\u201d\u2014KEATS, Endymion.\n\n\n\u201cI am the resurrection and the life.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\n\u201cEsther\u2014Esther! Speak to the servant below that he may bring me a cup\nof water.\u201d\n\n\u201cWould you not rather have wine, father?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him bring both.\u201d\n\nThis was in the summer-house upon the roof of the old palace of the\nHurs in Jerusalem. From the parapet overlooking the court-yard Esther\ncalled to a man in waiting there; at the same moment another\nman-servant came up the steps and saluted respectfully.\n\n\u201cA package for the master,\u201d he said, giving her a letter enclosed in\nlinen cloth, tied and sealed.\n\nFor the satisfaction of the reader, we stop to say that it is the\ntwenty-first day of March, nearly three years after the annunciation of\nthe Christ at Bethabara.\n\nIn the meanwhile, Malluch, acting for Ben-Hur, who could not longer\nendure the emptiness and decay of his father\u2019s house, had bought it\nfrom Pontius Pilate; and, in process of repair, gates, courts, lewens,\nstairways, terraces, rooms, and roof had been cleansed and thoroughly\nrestored; not only was there no reminder left of the tragic\ncircumstances so ruinous to the family, but the refurnishment was in a\nstyle richer than before. At every point, indeed, a visitor was met by\nevidences of the higher tastes acquired by the young proprietor during\nhis years of residence in the villa by Misenum and in the Roman\ncapital.\n\nNow it should not be inferred from this explanation that Ben-Hur had\npublicly assumed ownership of the property. In his opinion, the hour\nfor that was not yet come. Neither had he yet taken his proper name.\nPassing the time in the labors of preparation in Galilee, he waited\npatiently the action of the Nazarene, who became daily more and more a\nmystery to him, and by prodigies done, often before his eyes, kept him\nin a state of anxious doubt both as to his character and mission.\nOccasionally he came up to the Holy City, stopping at the paternal\nhouse; always, however, as a stranger and a guest.\n\nThese visits of Ben-Hur, it should also be observed, were for more than\nmere rest from labor. Balthasar and Iras made their home in the palace;\nand the charm of the daughter was still upon him with all its original\nfreshness, while the father, though feebler in body, held him an\nunflagging listener to speeches of astonishing power, urging the\ndivinity of the wandering miracle-worker of whom they were all so\nexpectant.\n\nAs to Simonides and Esther, they had arrived from Antioch only a few\ndays before this their reappearance\u2014a wearisome journey to the\nmerchant, borne, as he had been, in a palanquin swung between two\ncamels, which, in their careening, did not always keep the same step.\nBut now that he was come, the good man, it seemed, could not see enough\nof his native land. He delighted in the perch upon the roof, and spent\nmost of his day hours there seated in an arm-chair, the duplicate of\nthat one kept for him in the cabinet over the store-house by the\nOrontes. In the shade of the summer-house he could drink fully of the\ninspiring air lying lightly upon the familiar hills; he could better\nwatch the sun rise, run its course, and set as it used to in the\nfar-gone, not a habit lost; and with Esther by him it was so much\neasier up there close to the sky, to bring back the other Esther, his\nlove in youth, his wife, dearer growing with the passage of years. And\nyet he was not unmindful of business. Every day a messenger brought him\na despatch from Sanballat, in charge of the big commerce behind; and\nevery day a despatch left him for Sanballat with directions of such\nminuteness of detail as to exclude all judgment save his own, and all\nchances except those the Almighty has refused to submit to the most\nmindful of men.\n\nAs Esther started in return to the summer-house, the sunlight fell\nsoftly upon the dustless roof, showing her a woman now\u2014small, graceful\nin form, of regular features, rosy with youth and health, bright with\nintelligence, beautiful with the outshining of a devoted nature\u2014a woman\nto be loved because loving was a habit of life irrepressible with her.\n\nShe looked at the package as she turned, paused, looked at it a second\ntime more closely than at first; and the blood rose reddening her\ncheeks\u2014the seal was Ben-Hur\u2019s. With quickened steps she hastened on.\n\nSimonides held the package a moment while he also inspected the seal.\nBreaking it open, he gave her the roll it contained.\n\n\u201cRead,\u201d he said.\n\nHis eyes were upon her as he spoke, and instantly a troubled expression\nfell upon his own face.\n\n\u201cYou know who it is from, I see, Esther.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014from\u2014our master.\u201d\n\nThough the manner was halting, she met his gaze with modest sincerity.\nSlowly his chin sank into the roll of flesh puffed out under it like a\ncushion.\n\n\u201cYou love him, Esther,\u201d he said, quietly.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cHave you thought well of what you do?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have tried not to think of him, father, except as the master to whom\nI am dutifully bound. The effort has not helped me to strength.\u201d\n\n\u201cA good girl, a good girl, even as thy mother was,\u201d he said, dropping\ninto reverie, from which she roused him by unrolling the paper.\n\n\u201cThe Lord forgive me, but\u2014but thy love might not have been vainly given\nhad I kept fast hold of all I had, as I might have done\u2014such power is\nthere in money!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would have been worse for me had you done so, father; for then I\nhad been unworthy a look from him, and without pride in you. Shall I\nnot read now?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn a moment,\u201d he said. \u201cLet me, for your sake, my child, show you the\nworst. Seeing it with me may make it less terrible to you. His love,\nEsther, is all bestowed.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it,\u201d she said, calmly.\n\n\u201cThe Egyptian has him in her net,\u201d he continued. \u201cShe has the cunning\nof her race, with beauty to help her\u2014much beauty, great cunning; but,\nlike her race again, no heart. The daughter who despises her father\nwill bring her husband to grief.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes she that?\u201d\n\nSimonides went on:\n\n\u201cBalthasar is a wise man who has been wonderfully favored for a\nGentile, and his faith becomes him; yet she makes a jest of it. I heard\nher say, speaking of him yesterday, \u2018The follies of youth are\nexcusable; nothing is admirable in the aged except wisdom, and when\nthat goes from them, they should die.\u2019 A cruel speech, fit for a Roman.\nI applied it to myself, knowing a feebleness like her father\u2019s will\ncome to me also\u2014nay, it is not far off. But you, Esther, will never say\nof me\u2014no, never\u2014\u2018It were better he were dead.\u2019 No, your mother was a\ndaughter of Judah.\u201d\n\nWith half-formed tears, she kissed him, and said, \u201cI am my mother\u2019s\nchild.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and my daughter\u2014my daughter, who is to me all the Temple was to\nSolomon.\u201d\n\nAfter a silence, he laid his hand upon her shoulder, and resumed: \u201cWhen\nhe has taken the Egyptian to wife, Esther, he will think of you with\nrepentance and much calling of the spirit; for at last he will awake to\nfind himself but the minister of her bad ambition. Rome is the centre\nof all her dreams. To her he is the son of Arrius the duumvir, not the\nson of Hur, Prince of Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nEsther made no attempt to conceal the effect of these words.\n\n\u201cSave him, father! It is not too late!\u201d she said, entreatingly.\n\nHe answered, with a dubious smile, \u201cA man drowning may be saved; not so\na man in love.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you have influence with him. He is alone in the world. Show him\nhis danger. Tell him what a woman she is.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat might save him from her. Would it give him to you, Esther? No,\u201d\nand his brows fell darkly over his eyes. \u201cI am a servant, as my fathers\nwere for generations; yet I could not say to him, \u2018Lo, master, my\ndaughter! She is fairer than the Egyptian, and loves thee better!\u2019 I\nhave caught too much from years of liberty and direction. The words\nwould blister my tongue. The stones upon the old hills yonder would\nturn in their beds for shame when I go out to them. No, by the\npatriarchs, Esther, I would rather lay us both with your mother to\nsleep as she sleeps!\u201d\n\nA blush burned Esther\u2019s whole face.\n\n\u201cI did not mean you to tell him so, father. I was concerned for him\nalone\u2014for his happiness, not mine. Because I have dared love him, I\nshall keep myself worthy his respect; so only can I excuse my folly.\nLet me read his letter now.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, read it.\u201d\n\nShe began at once, in haste to conclude the distasteful subject.\n\n\u201cNisan, 8th day.\n\n\u201cOn the road from Galilee to Jerusalem.\n\n\u201cThe Nazarene is on the way also. With him, though without his\nknowledge, I am bringing a full legion of mine. A second legion\nfollows. The Passover will excuse the multitude. He said upon setting\nout, \u2018We will go up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by\nthe prophets concerning me shall be accomplished.\u2019\n\n\u201cOur waiting draws to an end.\n\n\u201cIn haste.\n\n\u201cPeace to thee, Simonides.\n\n\u201cBEN-HUR.\u201d\n\nEsther returned the letter to her father, while a choking sensation\ngathered in her throat. There was not a word in the missive for her\u2014not\neven in the salutation had she a share\u2014and it would have been so easy\nto have written \u201cand to thine, peace.\u201d For the first time in her life\nshe felt the smart of a jealous sting.\n\n\u201cThe eighth day,\u201d said Simonides, \u201cthe eighth day; and this, Esther,\nthis is the\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cThe ninth,\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cAh, then, they may be in Bethany now.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd possibly we may see him to-night,\u201d she added, pleased into\nmomentary forgetfulness.\n\n\u201cIt may be, it may be! To-morrow is the Feast of Unleavened Bread, and\nhe may wish to celebrate it; so may the Nazarene; and we may see him\u2014we\nmay see both of them, Esther.\u201d\n\nAt this point the servant appeared with the wine and water. Esther\nhelped her father, and in the midst of the service Iras came upon the\nroof.\n\nTo the Jewess the Egyptian never appeared so very, very beautiful as at\nthat moment. Her gauzy garments fluttered about her like a little cloud\nof mist; her forehead, neck, and arms glittered with the massive\njewelry so affected by her people. Her countenance was suffused with\npleasure. She moved with buoyant steps, and self-conscious, though\nwithout affectation. Esther at the sight shrank within herself, and\nnestled closer to her father.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, Simonides, and to the pretty Esther peace,\u201d said Iras,\ninclining her head to the latter. \u201cYou remind me, good master\u2014if I may\nsay it without offence-you remind me of the priests in Persia who climb\ntheir temples at the decline of day to send prayers after the departing\nsun. Is there anything in the worship you do not know, let me call my\nfather. He is Magian-bred.\u201d\n\n\u201cFair Egyptian,\u201d the merchant replied, nodding with grave politeness,\n\u201cyour father is a good man who would not be offended if he knew I told\nyou his Persian lore is the least part of his wisdom.\u201d\n\nIras\u2019s lip curled slightly.\n\n\u201cTo speak like a philosopher, as you invite me,\u201d she said, \u201cthe least\npart always implies a greater. Let me ask what you esteem the greater\npart of the rare quality you are pleased to attribute to him.\u201d\n\nSimonides turned upon her somewhat sternly.\n\n\u201cPure wisdom always directs itself towards God; the purest wisdom is\nknowledge of God; and no man of my acquaintance has it in higher\ndegree, or makes it more manifest in speech and act, than the good\nBalthasar.\u201d\n\nTo end the parley, he raised the cup and drank.\n\nThe Egyptian turned to Esther a little testily.\n\n\u201cA man who has millions in store, and fleets of ships at sea, cannot\ndiscern in what simple women like us find amusement. Let us leave him.\nBy the wall yonder we can talk.\u201d\n\nThey went to the parapet then, stopping at the place where, years\nbefore, Ben-Hur loosed the broken tile upon the head of Gratus.\n\n\u201cYou have not been to Rome?\u201d Iras began, toying the while with one of\nher unclasped bracelets.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Esther, demurely.\n\n\u201cHave you not wished to go?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, how little there has been of your life!\u201d\n\nThe sigh that succeeded the exclamation could not have been more\npiteously expressive had the loss been the Egyptian\u2019s own. Next moment\nher laugh might have been heard in the street below; and she said \u201cOh,\noh, my pretty simpleton! The half-fledged birds nested in the ear of\nthe great bust out on the Memphian sands know nearly as much as you.\u201d\n\nThen, seeing Esther\u2019s confusion, she changed her manner, and said in a\nconfiding tone, \u201cYou must not take offence. Oh no! I was playing. Let\nme kiss the hurt, and tell you what I would not to any other\u2014not if\nSimbel himself asked it of me, offering a lotus-cup of the spray of the\nNile!\u201d\n\nAnother laugh, masking excellently the look she turned sharply upon the\nJewess, and she said, \u201cThe King is coming.\u201d\n\nEsther gazed at her in innocent surprise.\n\n\u201cThe Nazarene,\u201d Iras continued\u2014\u201che whom our fathers have been talking\nabout so much, whom Ben-Hur has been serving and toiling for so\nlong\u201d\u2014her voice dropped several tones lower\u2014\u201cthe Nazarene will be here\nto-morrow, and Ben-Hur to-night.\u201d\n\nEsther struggled to maintain her composure, but failed: her eyes fell,\nthe tell-tale blood surged to her cheek and forehead, and she was saved\nsight of the triumphant smile that passed, like a gleam, over the face\nof the Egyptian.\n\n\u201cSee, here is his promise.\u201d\n\nAnd from her girdle she took a roll.\n\n\u201cRejoice with me, O my friend! He will be here tonight! On the Tiber\nthere is a house, a royal property, which he has pledged to me; and to\nbe its mistress is to be\u2014\u201d\n\nA sound of some one walking swiftly along the street below interrupted\nthe speech, and she leaned over the parapet to see. Then she drew back,\nand cried, with hands clasped above her head, \u201cNow blessed be Isis!\n\u2019Tis he\u2014Ben-Hur himself! That he should appear while I had such thought\nof him! There are no gods if it be not a good omen. Put your arms about\nme, Esther\u2014and a kiss!\u201d\n\nThe Jewess looked up. Upon each cheek there was a glow; her eyes\nsparkled with a light more nearly of anger than ever her nature emitted\nbefore. Her gentleness had been too roughly overridden. It was not\nenough for her to be forbidden more than fugitive dreams of the man she\nloved; a boastful rival must tell her in confidence of her better\nsuccess, and of the brilliant promises which were its rewards. Of her,\nthe servant of a servant, there had been no hint of remembrance; this\nother could show his letter, leaving her to imagine all it breathed. So\nshe said,\n\n\u201cDost thou love him so much, then, or Rome so much better?\u201d\n\nThe Egyptian drew back a step; then she bent her haughty head quite\nnear her questioner.\n\n\u201cWhat is he to thee, daughter of Simonides?\u201d\n\nEsther, all thrilling, began, \u201cHe is my\u2014\u201d\n\nA thought blasting as lightning stayed the words: she paled, trembled,\nrecovered, and answered,\n\n\u201cHe is my father\u2019s friend.\u201d\n\nHer tongue had refused to admit her servile condition.\n\nIras laughed more lightly than before.\n\n\u201cNot more than that?\u201d she said. \u201cAh, by the lover-gods of Egypt, thou\nmayst keep thy kisses\u2014keep them. Thou hast taught me but now that there\nare others vastly more estimable waiting me here in Judea; and\u201d\u2014she\nturned away, looking back over her shoulder\u2014\u201cI will go get them. Peace\nto thee.\u201d\n\nEsther saw her disappear down the steps, when, putting her hands over\nher face, she burst into tears so they ran scalding through her\nfingers\u2014tears of shame and choking passion. And, to deepen the paroxysm\nto her even temper so strange, up with a new meaning of withering force\nrose her father\u2019s words\u2014\u201cThy love might not have been vainly given had\nI kept fast hold of all I had, as I might have done.\u201d\n\nAnd all the stars were out, burning low above the city and the dark\nwall of mountains about it, before she recovered enough to go back to\nthe summer-house, and in silence take her accustomed place at her\nfather\u2019s side, humbly waiting his pleasure. To such duty it seemed her\nyouth, if not her life, must be given. And, let the truth be said, now\nthat the pang was spent, she went not unwillingly back to the duty.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nAn hour or thereabouts after the scene upon the roof, Balthasar and\nSimonides, the latter attended by Esther, met in the great chamber of\nthe palace; and while they were talking, Ben-Hur and Iras came in\ntogether.\n\nThe young Jew, advancing in front of his companion, walked first to\nBalthasar, and saluted him, and received his reply; then he turned to\nSimonides, but paused at sight of Esther.\n\nIt is not often we have hearts roomy enough for more than one of the\nabsorbing passions at the same time; in its blaze the others may\ncontinue to live, but only as lesser lights. So with Ben-Hur, much\nstudy of possibilities, indulgence of hopes and dreams, influences born\nof the condition of his country, influences more direct\u2014that of Iras,\nfor example\u2014had made him in the broadest worldly sense ambitious; and\nas he had given the passion place, allowing it to become a rule, and\nfinally an imperious governor, the resolves and impulses of former days\nfaded imperceptibly out of being, and at last almost out of\nrecollection. It is at best so easy to forget our youth; in his case it\nwas but natural that his own sufferings and the mystery darkening the\nfate of his family should move him less and less as, in hope at least,\nhe approached nearer and nearer the goals which occupied all his\nvisions. Only let us not judge him too harshly.\n\nHe paused in surprise at seeing Esther a woman now, and so beautiful;\nand as he stood looking at her a still voice reminded him of broken\nvows and duties undone: almost his old self returned.\n\nFor an instant he was startled; but recovering, he went to Esther, and\nsaid, \u201cPeace to thee, sweet Esther\u2014peace; and thou, Simonides\u201d\u2014he\nlooked to the merchant as he spoke\u2014\u201cthe blessing of the Lord be thine,\nif only because thou hast been a good father to the fatherless.\u201d\n\nEsther heard him with downcast face; Simonides answered,\n\n\u201cI repeat the welcome of the good Balthasar, son of Hur\u2014welcome to thy\nfather\u2019s house; and sit, and tell us of thy travels, and of thy work,\nand of the wonderful Nazarene\u2014who he is, and what. If thou art not at\nease here, who shall be? Sit, I pray\u2014there, between us, that we may all\nhear.\u201d\n\nEsther stepped out quickly and brought a covered stool, and set it for\nhim.\n\n\u201cThanks,\u201d he said to her, gratefully.\n\nWhen seated, after some other conversation, he addressed himself to the\nmen.\n\n\u201cI have come to tell you of the Nazarene.\u201d\n\nThe two became instantly attentive.\n\n\u201cFor many days now I have followed him with such watchfulness as one\nmay give another upon whom he is waiting so anxiously. I have seen him\nunder all circumstances said to be trials and tests of men; and while I\nam certain he is a man as I am, not less certain am I that he is\nsomething more.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat more?\u201d asked Simonides.\n\n\u201cI will tell you\u2014\u201d\n\nSome one coming into the room interrupted him; he turned, and arose\nwith extended hands.\n\n\u201cAmrah! Dear old Amrah!\u201d he cried.\n\nShe came forward; and they, seeing the joy in her face, thought not\nonce how wrinkled and tawny it was. She knelt at his feet, clasped his\nknees, and kissed his hands over and over; and when he could he put the\nlank gray hair from her cheeks, and kissed them, saying, \u201cGood Amrah,\nhave you nothing, nothing of them\u2014not a word\u2014not one little sign?\u201d\n\nThen she broke into sobbing which made him answer plainer even than the\nspoken word.\n\n\u201cGod\u2019s will has been done,\u201d he next said, solemnly, in a tone to make\neach listener know he had no hope more of finding his people. In his\neyes there were tears which he would not have them see, because he was\na man.\n\nWhen he could again, he took seat, and said, \u201cCome, sit by me,\nAmrah\u2014here. No? then at my feet; for I have much to say to these good\nfriends of a wonderful man come into the world.\u201d\n\nBut she went off, and stooping with her back to the wall, joined her\nhands before her knees, content, they all thought, with seeing him.\nThen Ben-Hur, bowing to the old men, began again:\n\n\u201cI fear to answer the question asked me about the Nazarene without\nfirst telling you some of the things I have seen him do; and to that I\nam the more inclined, my friends, because to-morrow he will come to the\ncity, and go up into the Temple, which he calls his father\u2019s house,\nwhere, it is further said, he will proclaim himself. So, whether you\nare right, O Balthasar, or you, Simonides, we and Israel shall know\nto-morrow.\u201d\n\nBalthasar rubbed his hands tremulously together, and asked, \u201cWhere\nshall I go to see him?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe pressure of the crowd will be very great. Better, I think, that\nyou all go upon the roof above the cloisters\u2014say upon the Porch of\nSolomon.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you be with us?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Ben-Hur, \u201cmy friends will require me, perhaps, in the\nprocession.\u201d\n\n\u201cProcession!\u201d exclaimed Simonides. \u201cDoes he travel in state?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur saw the argument in mind.\n\n\u201cHe brings twelve men with him, fishermen, tillers of the soil, one a\npublican, all of the humbler class; and he and they make their journeys\non foot, careless of wind, cold, rain, or sun. Seeing them stop by the\nwayside at nightfall to break bread or lie down to sleep, I have been\nreminded of a party of shepherds going back to their flocks from\nmarket, not of nobles and kings. Only when he lifts the corners of his\nhandkerchief to look at some one or shake the dust from his head, I am\nmade known he is their teacher as well as their companion\u2014their\nsuperior not less than their friend.\n\n\u201cYou are shrewd men,\u201d Ben-Hur resumed, after a pause. \u201cYou know what\ncreatures of certain master motives we are, and that it has become\nlittle less than a law of our nature to spend life in eager pursuit of\ncertain objects; now, appealing to that law as something by which we\nmay know ourselves, what would you say of a man who could be rich by\nmaking gold of the stones under his feet, yet is poor of choice?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Greeks would call him a philosopher,\u201d said Iras.\n\n\u201cNay, daughter,\u201d said Balthasar, \u201cthe philosophers had never the power\nto do such thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow know you this man has?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur answered quickly, \u201cI saw him turn water into wine.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery strange, very strange,\u201d said Simonides; \u201cbut it is not so strange\nto me as that he should prefer to live poor when he could be so rich.\nIs he so poor?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe owns nothing, and envies nobody his owning. He pities the rich. But\npassing that, what would you say to see a man multiply seven loaves and\ntwo fishes, all his store, into enough to feed five thousand people,\nand have full baskets over? That I saw the Nazarene do.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou saw it?\u201d exclaimed Simonides.\n\n\u201cAy, and ate of the bread and fish.\u201d\n\n\u201cMore marvellous still,\u201d Ben-Hur continued, \u201cwhat would you say of a\nman in whom there is such healing virtue that the sick have but to\ntouch the hem of his garment to be cured, or cry to him afar? That,\ntoo, I witnessed, not once, but many times. As we came out of Jericho\ntwo blind men by the wayside called to the Nazarene, and he touched\ntheir eyes, and they saw. So they brought a palsied man to him, and he\nsaid merely, \u2018Go unto thy house,\u2019 and the man went away well. What say\nyou to these things?\u201d\n\nThe merchant had no answer.\n\n\u201cThink you now, as I have heard others argue, that what I have told you\nare tricks of jugglery? Let me answer by recalling greater things which\nI have seen him do. Look first to that curse of God\u2014comfortless, as you\nall know, except by death\u2014leprosy.\u201d\n\nAt these words Amrah dropped her hands to the floor, and in her\neagerness to hear him half arose.\n\n\u201cWhat would you say,\u201d said Ben-Hur, with increased earnestness\u2014\u201cwhat\nwould you say to have seen that I now tell you? A leper came to the\nNazarene while I was with him down in Galilee, and said, \u2018Lord, if thou\nwilt, thou canst make me clean.\u2019 He heard the cry, and touched the\noutcast with his hand, saying, \u2018Be thou clean;\u2019 and forthwith the man\nwas himself again, healthful as any of us who beheld the cure, and we\nwere a multitude.\u201d\n\nHere Amrah arose, and with her gaunt fingers held the wiry locks from\nher eyes. The brain of the poor creature had long since gone to heart,\nand she was troubled to follow the speech.\n\n\u201cThen, again,\u201d said Ben-Hur, without stop, \u201cten lepers came to him one\nday in a body, and falling at his feet, called out\u2014I saw and heard it\nall\u2014called out, \u2018Master, Master, have mercy upon us!\u2019 He told them,\n\u2018Go, show yourselves to the priest, as the law requires; and before you\nare come there ye shall be healed.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd were they?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. On the road going their infirmity left them, so that there was\nnothing to remind us of it except their polluted clothes.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuch thing was never heard before\u2014never in all Israel!\u201d said\nSimonides, in undertone.\n\nAnd then, while he was speaking, Amrah turned away, and walked\nnoiselessly to the door, and went out; and none of the company saw her\ngo.\n\n\u201cThe thoughts stirred by such things done under my eyes I leave you to\nimagine,\u201d said Ben-Hur, continuing; \u201cbut my doubts, my misgivings, my\namazement, were not yet at the full. The people of Galilee are, as you\nknow, impetuous and rash; after years of waiting their swords burned\ntheir hands; nothing would do them but action. \u2018He is slow to declare\nhimself; let us force him,\u2019 they cried to me. And I too became\nimpatient. If he is to be king, why not now? The legions are ready. So\nas he was once teaching by the seaside we would have crowned him\nwhether or not; but he disappeared, and was next seen on a ship\ndeparting from the shore. Good Simonides, the desires that make other\nmen mad\u2014riches, power, even kingships offered out of great love by a\ngreat people\u2014move this one not at all. What say you?\u201d\n\nThe merchant\u2019s chin was low upon his breast; raising his head, he\nreplied, resolutely, \u201cThe Lord liveth, and so do the words of the\nprophets. Time is in the green yet; let to-morrow answer.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so,\u201d said Balthasar, smiling.\n\nAnd Ben-Hur said, \u201cBe it so.\u201d Then he went on: \u201cBut I have not yet\ndone. From these things, not too great to be above suspicion by such as\ndid not see them in performance as I did, let me carry you now to\nothers infinitely greater, acknowledged since the world began to be\npast the power of man. Tell me, has any one to your knowledge ever\nreached out and taken from Death what Death has made his own? Who ever\ngave again the breath of a life lost? Who but\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cGod!\u201d said Balthasar, reverently.\n\nBen-Hur bowed.\n\n\u201cO wise Egyptian! I may not refuse the name you lend me. What would\nyou\u2014or you, Simonides\u2014what would you either or both have said had you\nseen as I did, a man, with few words and no ceremony, without effort\nmore than a mother\u2019s when she speaks to wake her child asleep, undo the\nwork of Death? It was down at Nain. We were about going into the gate,\nwhen a company came out bearing a dead man. The Nazarene stopped to let\nthe train pass. There was a woman among them crying. I saw his face\nsoften with pity. He spoke to her, then went and touched the bier, and\nsaid to him who lay upon it dressed for burial, \u2018Young man, I say unto\nthee, Arise!\u2019 And instantly the dead sat up and talked.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod only is so great,\u201d said Balthasar to Simonides.\n\n\u201cMark you,\u201d Ben-Hur proceeded, \u201cI do but tell you things of which I was\na witness, together with a cloud of other men. On the way hither I saw\nanother act still more mighty. In Bethany there was a man named\nLazarus, who died and was buried; and after he had lain four days in a\ntomb, shut in by a great stone, the Nazarene was shown to the place.\nUpon rolling the stone away, we beheld the man lying inside bound and\nrotting. There were many people standing by, and we all heard what the\nNazarene said, for he spoke in a loud voice: \u2018Lazarus, come forth!\u2019 I\ncannot tell you my feelings when in answer, as it were, the man arose\nand came out to us with all his cerements about him. \u2018Loose him,\u2019 said\nthe Nazarene next, \u2018loose him, and let him go.\u2019 And when the napkin was\ntaken from the face of the resurrected, lo, my friends! the blood ran\nanew through the wasted body, and he was exactly as he had been in life\nbefore the sickness that took him off. He lives yet, and is hourly seen\nand spoken to. You may go see him to-morrow. And now, as nothing more\nis needed for the purpose, I ask you that which I came to ask, it being\nbut a repetition of what you asked me, O Simonides, What more than a\nman is this Nazarene?\u201d\n\nThe question was put solemnly, and long after midnight the company sat\nand debated it; Simonides being yet unwilling to give up his\nunderstanding of the sayings of the prophets, and Ben-Hur contending\nthat the elder disputants were both right\u2014that the Nazarene was the\nRedeemer, as claimed by Balthasar, and also the destined king the\nmerchant would have.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow we will see. Peace to you all.\u201d\n\nSo saying, Ben-Hur took his leave, intending to return to Bethany.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nThe first person to go out of the city upon the opening of the Sheep\u2019s\nGate next morning was Amrah, basket on arm. No questions were asked her\nby the keepers, since the morning itself had not been more regular in\ncoming than she; they knew her somebody\u2019s faithful servant, and that\nwas enough for them.\n\nDown the eastern valley she took her way. The side of Olivet, darkly\ngreen, was spotted with white tents recently put up by people attending\nthe feasts; the hour, however, was too early for the strangers to be\nabroad; still, had it not been so, no one would have troubled her. Past\nGethsemane; past the tombs at the meeting of the Bethany roads; past\nthe sepulchral village of Siloam she went. Occasionally the decrepit\nlittle body staggered; once she sat down to get her breath; rising\nshortly, she struggled on with renewed haste. The great rocks on either\nhand, if they had had ears, might have heard her mutter to herself;\ncould they have seen, it would have been to observe how frequently she\nlooked up over the Mount, reproving the dawn for its promptness; if it\nhad been possible for them to gossip, not improbably they would have\nsaid to each other, \u201cOur friend is in a hurry this morning; the mouths\nshe goes to feed must be very hungry.\u201d\n\nWhen at last she reached the King\u2019s Garden she slackened her gait; for\nthen the grim city of the lepers was in view, extending far round the\npitted south hill of Hinnom.\n\nAs the reader must by this time have surmised, she was going to her\nmistress, whose tomb, it will be remembered, overlooked the well\nEn-Rogel.\n\nEarly as it was, the unhappy woman was up and sitting outside, leaving\nTirzah asleep within. The course of the malady had been terribly swift\nin the three years. Conscious of her appearance, with the refined\ninstincts of her nature, she kept her whole person habitually covered.\nSeldom as possible she permitted even Tirzah to see her.\n\nThis morning she was taking the air with bared head, knowing there was\nno one to be shocked by the exposure. The light was not full, but\nenough to show the ravages to which she had been subject. Her hair was\nsnow-white and unmanageably coarse, falling over her back and shoulders\nlike so much silver wire. The eyelids, the lips, the nostrils, the\nflesh of the cheeks, were either gone or reduced to fetid rawness. The\nneck was a mass of ash-colored scales. One hand lay outside the folds\nof her habit rigid as that of a skeleton; the nails had been eaten\naway; the joints of the fingers, if not bare to the bone, were swollen\nknots crusted with red secretion. Head, face, neck, and hand indicated\nall too plainly the condition of the whole body. Seeing her thus, it\nwas easy to understand how the once fair widow of the princely Hur had\nbeen able to maintain her incognito so well through such a period of\nyears.\n\nWhen the sun would gild the crest of Olivet and the Mount of Offence\nwith light sharper and more brilliant in that old land than in the\nWest, she knew Amrah would come, first to the well, then to a stone\nmidway the well and the foot of the hill on which she had her abode,\nand that the good servant would there deposit the food she carried in\nthe basket, and fill the water-jar afresh for the day. Of her former\nplentitude of happiness, that brief visit was all that remained to the\nunfortunate. She could then ask about her son, and be told of his\nwelfare, with such bits of news concerning him as the messenger could\nglean. Usually the information was meagre enough, yet comforting; at\ntimes she heard he was at home; then she would issue from her dreary\ncell at break of day, and sit till noon, and from noon to set of sun, a\nmotionless figure draped in white, looking, statue-like, invariably to\none point\u2014over the Temple to the spot under the rounded sky where the\nold house stood, dear in memory, and dearer because he was there.\nNothing else was left her. Tirzah she counted of the dead; and as for\nherself, she simply waited the end, knowing every hour of life was an\nhour of dying\u2014happily, of painless dying.\n\nThe things of nature about the hill to keep her sensitive to the\nworld\u2019s attractions were wretchedly scant; beasts and birds avoided the\nplace as if they knew its history and present use; every green thing\nperished in its first season; the winds warred upon the shrubs and\nventurous grasses, leaving to drought such as they could not uproot.\nLook where she would, the view was made depressingly suggestive by\ntombs\u2014tombs above her, tombs below, tombs opposite her own tomb\u2014all now\nfreshly whitened in warning to visiting pilgrims. In the sky\u2014clear,\nfair, inviting\u2014one would think she might have found some relief to her\nache of mind; but, alas! in making the beautiful elsewhere the sun\nserved her never so unfriendly\u2014it did but disclose her growing\nhideousness. But for the sun she would not have been the horror she was\nto herself, nor been waked so cruelly from dreams of Tirzah as she used\nto be. The gift of seeing can be sometimes a dreadful curse.\n\nDoes one ask why she did not make an end to her sufferings?\n\nTHE LAW FORBADE HER!\n\nA Gentile may smile at the answer; but so will not a son of Israel.\n\nWhile she sat there peopling the dusky solitude with thoughts even more\ncheerless, suddenly a woman came up the hill staggering and spent with\nexertion.\n\nThe widow arose hastily, and covering her head, cried, in a voice\nunnaturally harsh, \u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nIn a moment, heedless of the notice, Amrah was at her feet. All the\nlong-pent love of the simple creature burst forth: with tears and\npassionate exclamations she kissed her mistress\u2019s garments, and for a\nwhile the latter strove to escape from her; then, seeing she could not,\nshe waited till the violence of the paroxysm was over.\n\n\u201cWhat have you done, Amrah?\u201d she said. \u201cIs it by such disobedience you\nprove your love for us? Wicked woman! You are lost; and he\u2014your\nmaster\u2014you can never, never go back to him.\u201d\n\nAmrah grovelled sobbing in the dust.\n\n\u201cThe ban of the Law is upon you, too; you cannot return to Jerusalem.\nWhat will become of us? Who will bring us bread? O wicked, wicked\nAmrah! We are all, all undone alike!\u201d\n\n\u201cMercy, mercy!\u201d Amrah answered from the ground.\n\n\u201cYou should have been merciful to yourself, and by so doing been most\nmerciful to us. Now where can we fly? There is no one to help us. O\nfalse servant! The wrath of the Lord was already too heavy upon us.\u201d\n\nHere Tirzah, awakened by the noise, appeared at the door of the tomb.\nThe pen shrinks from the picture she presented. In the half-clad\napparition, patched with scales, lividly seamed, nearly blind, its\nlimbs and extremities swollen to grotesque largeness, familiar eyes\nhowever sharpened by love could not have recognized the creature of\nchildish grace and purity we first beheld her.\n\n\u201cIs it Amrah, mother?\u201d\n\nThe servant tried to crawl to her also.\n\n\u201cStay, Amrah!\u201d the widow cried, imperiously. \u201cI forbid you touching\nher. Rise, and get you gone before any at the well see you here. Nay, I\nforgot\u2014it is too late! You must remain now and share our doom. Rise, I\nsay!\u201d\n\nAmrah rose to her knees, and said, brokenly and with clasped hands, \u201cO\ngood mistress! I am not false\u2014I am not wicked. I bring you good\ntidings.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf Judah?\u201d and as she spoke, the widow half withdrew the cloth from\nher head.\n\n\u201cThere is a wonderful man,\u201d Amrah continued, \u201cwho has power to cure\nyou. He speaks a word, and the sick are made well, and even the dead\ncome to life. I have come to take you to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor Amrah!\u201d said Tirzah, compassionately.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d cried Amrah, detecting the doubt underlying the expression\u2014\u201cno,\nas the Lord lives, even the Lord of Israel, my God as well as yours, I\nspeak the truth. Go with me, I pray, and lose no time. This morning he\nwill pass by on his way to the city. See! the day is at hand. Take the\nfood here\u2014eat, and let us go.\u201d\n\nThe mother listened eagerly. Not unlikely she had heard of the\nwonderful man, for by this time his fame had penetrated every nook in\nthe land.\n\n\u201cWho is he?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cA Nazarene.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho told you about him?\u201d\n\n\u201cJudah.\u201d\n\n\u201cJudah told you? Is he at home?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe came last night.\u201d\n\nThe widow, trying to still the beating of her heart, was silent awhile.\n\n\u201cDid Judah send you to tell us this?\u201d she next asked.\n\n\u201cNo. He believes you dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was a prophet once who cured a leper,\u201d the mother said\nthoughtfully to Tirzah; \u201cbut he had his power from God.\u201d Then\naddressing Amrah, she asked, \u201cHow does my son know this man so\npossessed?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was travelling with him, and heard the lepers call, and saw them go\naway well. First there was one man; then there were ten; and they were\nall made whole.\u201d\n\nThe elder listener was silent again. The skeleton hand shook. We may\nbelieve she was struggling to give the story the sanction of faith,\nwhich is always an absolutist in demand, and that it was with her as\nwith the men of the day, eye-witnesses of what was done by the Christ,\nas well as the myriads who have succeeded them. She did not question\nthe performance, for her own son was the witness testifying through the\nservant; but she strove to comprehend the power by which work so\nastonishing could be done by a man. Well enough to make inquiry as to\nthe fact; to comprehend the power, on the other hand, it is first\nnecessary to comprehend God; and he who waits for that will die\nwaiting. With her, however, the hesitation was brief. To Tirzah she\nsaid,\n\n\u201cThis must be the Messiah!\u201d\n\nShe spoke not coldly, like one reasoning a doubt away, but as a woman\nof Israel familiar with the promises of God to her race\u2014a woman of\nunderstanding, ready to be glad over the least sign of the realization\nof the promises.\n\n\u201cThere was a time when Jerusalem and all Judea were filled with a story\nthat he was born. I remember it. By this time he should be a man. It\nmust be\u2014it is he. Yes,\u201d she said to Amrah, \u201cwe will go with you. Bring\nthe water which you will find in the tomb in a jar, and set the food\nfor us. We will eat and be gone.\u201d\n\nThe breakfast, partaken under excitement, was soon despatched, and the\nthree women set out on their extraordinary journey. As Tirzah had\ncaught the confident spirit of the others, there was but one fear that\ntroubled the party. Bethany, Amrah said, was the town the man was\ncoming from; now from that to Jerusalem there were three roads, or\nrather paths\u2014one over the first summit of Olivet, a second at its base,\na third between the second summit and the Mount of Offence. The three\nwere not far apart; far enough, however, to make it possible for the\nunfortunates to miss the Nazarene if they failed the one he chose to\ncome by.\n\nA little questioning satisfied the mother that Amrah knew nothing of\nthe country beyond the Cedron, and even less of the intentions of the\nman they were going to see, if they could. She discerned, also, that\nboth Amrah and Tirzah\u2014the one from confirmed habits of servitude, the\nother from natural dependency\u2014looked to her for guidance; and she\naccepted the charge.\n\n\u201cWe will go first to Bethphage,\u201d she said to them. \u201cThere, if the Lord\nfavor us, we may learn what else to do.\u201d\n\nThey descended the hill to Tophet and the King\u2019s Garden, and paused in\nthe deep trail furrowed through them by centuries of wayfaring.\n\n\u201cI am afraid of the road,\u201d the matron said. \u201cBetter that we keep to the\ncountry among the rocks and trees. This is feast-day, and on the\nhill-sides yonder I see signs of a great multitude in attendance. By\ngoing across the Mount of Offence here we may avoid them.\u201d\n\nTirzah had been walking with great difficulty; upon hearing this her\nheart began to fail her.\n\n\u201cThe mount is steep, mother; I cannot climb it.\u201d\n\n\u201cRemember, we are going to find health and life. See, my child, how the\nday brightens around us! And yonder are women coming this way to the\nwell. They will stone us if we stay here. Come, be strong this once.\u201d\n\nThus the mother, not less tortured herself, sought to inspire the\ndaughter; and Amrah came to her aid. To this time the latter had not\ntouched the persons of the afflicted, nor they her; now, in disregard\nof consequences as well as of command, the faithful creature went to\nTirzah, and put her arm over her shoulder, and whispered, \u201cLean on me.\nI am strong, though I am old; and it is but a little way off. There\u2014now\nwe can go.\u201d\n\nThe face of the hill they essayed to cross was somewhat broken with\npits, and ruins of old structures; but when at last they stood upon the\ntop to rest, and looked at the spectacle presented them over in the\nnorthwest\u2014at the Temple and its courtly terraces, at Zion, at the\nenduring towers white beetling into the sky beyond\u2014the mother was\nstrengthened with a love of life for life\u2019s sake.\n\n\u201cLook, Tirzah,\u201d she said\u2014\u201clook at the plates of gold on the Gate\nBeautiful. How they give back the flames of the sun, brightness for\nbrightness! Do you remember we used to go up there? Will it not be\npleasant to do so again? And think\u2014home is but a little way off. I can\nalmost see it over the roof of the Holy of Holies; and Judah will be\nthere to receive us!\u201d\n\nFrom the side of the middle summit garnished green with myrtle and\nolive trees, they saw, upon looking that way next, thin columns of\nsmoke rising lightly and straight up into the pulseless morning, each a\nwarning of restless pilgrims astir, and of the flight of the pitiless\nhours, and the need of haste.\n\nThough the good servant toiled faithfully to lighten the labor in\ndescending the hill-side, not sparing herself in the least, the girl\nmoaned at every step; sometimes in extremity of anguish she cried out.\nUpon reaching the road\u2014that is, the road between the Mount of Offence\nand the middle or second summit of Olivet\u2014she fell down exhausted.\n\n\u201cGo on with Amrah, mother, and leave me here,\u201d she said, faintly.\n\n\u201cNo, no, Tirzah. What would the gain be to me if I were healed and you\nnot? When Judah asks for you, as he will, what would I have to say to\nhim were I to leave you?\u201d\n\n\u201cTell him I loved him.\u201d\n\nThe elder leper arose from bending over the fainting sufferer, and\ngazed about her with that sensation of hope perishing which is more\nnearly like annihilation of the soul than anything else. The supremest\njoy of the thought of cure was inseparable from Tirzah, who was not too\nold to forget, in the happiness of healthful life to come, the years of\nmisery by which she had been so reduced in body and broken in spirit.\nEven as the brave woman was about leaving the venture they were engaged\nin to the determination of God, she saw a man on foot coming rapidly up\nthe road from the east.\n\n\u201cCourage, Tirzah! Be of cheer,\u201d she said. \u201cYonder I know is one to tell\nus of the Nazarene.\u201d\n\nAmrah helped the girl to a sitting posture, and supported her while the\nman advanced.\n\n\u201cIn your goodness, mother, you forget what we are. The stranger will go\naround us; his best gift to us will be a curse, if not a stone.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will see.\u201d\n\nThere was no other answer to be given, since the mother was too well\nand sadly acquainted with the treatment outcasts of the class to which\nshe belonged were accustomed to at the hands of her countrymen.\n\nAs has been said, the road at the edge of which the group was posted\nwas little more than a worn path or trail, winding crookedly through\ntumuli of limestone. If the stranger kept it, he must meet them face to\nface; and he did so, until near enough to hear the cry she was bound to\ngive. Then, uncovering her head, a further demand of the law, she\nshouted shrilly,\n\n\u201cUnclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nTo her surprise, the man came steadily on.\n\n\u201cWhat would you have?\u201d he asked, stopping opposite them not four yards\noff.\n\n\u201cThou seest us. Have a care,\u201d the mother said, with dignity.\n\n\u201cWoman, I am the courier of him who speaketh but once to such as thou\nand they are healed. I am not afraid.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Nazarene?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Messiah,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cIs it true that he cometh to the city to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is now at Bethphage.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn what road, master?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis one.\u201d\n\nShe clasped her hands, and looked up thankfully.\n\n\u201cFor whom takest thou him?\u201d the man asked, with pity.\n\n\u201cThe Son of God,\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cStay thou here then; or, as there is a multitude with him, take thy\nstand by the rock yonder, the white one under the tree; and as he goeth\nby fail not to call to him; call, and fear not. If thy faith but equal\nthy knowledge, he will hear thee though all the heavens thunder. I go\nto tell Israel, assembled in and about the city, that he is at hand,\nand to make ready to receive him. Peace to thee and thine, woman.\u201d\n\nThe stranger moved on.\n\n\u201cDid you hear, Tirzah? Did you hear? The Nazarene is on the road, on\nthis one, and he will hear us. Once more, my child\u2014oh, only once! and\nlet us to the rock. It is but a step.\u201d\n\nThus encouraged Tirzah took Amrah\u2019s hand and arose; but as they were\ngoing, Amrah said, \u201cStay; the man is returning.\u201d And they waited for\nhim.\n\n\u201cI pray your grace, woman,\u201d he said, upon overtaking them. \u201cRemembering\nthat the sun will be hot before the Nazarene arrives, and that the city\nis near by to give me refreshment should I need it, I thought this\nwater would do thee better than it will me. Take it and be of good\ncheer. Call to him as he passes.\u201d\n\nHe followed the words by offering her a gourd full of water, such as\nfoot-travellers sometimes carried with them in their journeys across\nthe hills; and instead of placing the gift on the ground for her to\ntake up when he was at a safe distance, he gave it into her hand.\n\n\u201cArt thou a Jew?\u201d she asked, surprised.\n\n\u201cI am that, and better; I am a disciple of the Christ who teacheth\ndaily by word and example this thing which I have done unto you. The\nworld hath long known the word charity without understanding it. Again\nI say peace and good cheer to thee and thine.\u201d\n\nHe went on, and they went slowly to the rock he had pointed out to\nthem, high as their heads, and scarcely thirty yards from the road on\nthe right. Standing in front of it, the mother satisfied herself they\ncould be seen and heard plainly by passers-by whose notice they desired\nto attract. There they cast themselves under the tree in its shade, and\ndrank of the gourd, and rested refreshed. Ere long Tirzah slept, and\nfearing to disturb her, the others held their peace.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nDuring the third hour the road in front of the resting-place of the\nlepers became gradually more and more frequented by people going in the\ndirection of Bethphage and Bethany; now, however, about the\ncommencement of the fourth hour, a great crowd appeared over the crest\nof Olivet, and as it defiled down the road thousands in number, the two\nwatchers noticed with wonder that every one in it carried a palm-branch\nfreshly cut. As they sat absorbed by the novelty, the noise of another\nmultitude approaching from the east drew their eyes that way. Then the\nmother awoke Tirzah.\n\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of it all?\u201d the latter asked.\n\n\u201cHe is coming,\u201d answered the mother. \u201cThese we see are from the city\ngoing to meet him; those we hear in the east are his friends bearing\nhim company; and it will not be strange if the processions meet here\nbefore us.\n\n\u201cI fear, if they do, we cannot be heard.\u201d\n\nThe same thought was in the elder\u2019s mind.\n\n\u201cAmrah,\u201d she asked, \u201cwhen Judah spoke of the healing of the ten, in\nwhat words did he say they called to the Nazarene?\u201d\n\n\u201cEither they said, \u2018Lord, have mercy upon us,\u2019 or \u2018Master, have\nmercy.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly that?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo more that I heard.\u201d\n\n\u201cYet it was enough,\u201d the mother added, to herself.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Amrah, \u201cJudah said he saw them go away well.\u201d\n\nMeantime the people in the east came up slowly. When at length the\nforemost of them were in sight, the gaze of the lepers fixed upon a man\nriding in the midst of what seemed a chosen company which sang and\ndanced about him in extravagance of joy. The rider was bareheaded and\nclad all in white. When he was in distance to be more clearly observed,\nthese, looking anxiously, saw an olive-hued face shaded by long\nchestnut hair slightly sunburned and parted in the middle. He looked\nneither to the right nor left. In the noisy abandon of his followers he\nappeared to have no part; nor did their favor disturb him in the least,\nor raise him out of the profound melancholy into which, as his\ncountenance showed, he was plunged. The sun beat upon the back of his\nhead, and lighting up the floating hair gave it a delicate likeness to\na golden nimbus. Behind him the irregular procession, pouring forward\nwith continuous singing and shouting, extended out of view. There was\nno need of any one to tell the lepers that this was he\u2014the wonderful\nNazarene!\n\n\u201cHe is here, Tirzah,\u201d the mother said; \u201che is here. Come, my child.\u201d\n\nAs she spoke she glided in front of the white rock and fell upon her\nknees.\n\nDirectly the daughter and servant were by her side. Then at sight of\nthe procession in the west, the thousands from the city halted, and\nbegan to wave their green branches, shouting, or rather chanting (for\nit was all in one voice),\n\n\u201cBlessed is the King of Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord!\u201d\n\nAnd all the thousands who were of the rider\u2019s company, both those near\nand those afar, replied so the air shook with the sound, which was as a\ngreat wind threshing the side of the hill. Amidst the din, the cries of\nthe poor lepers were not more than the twittering of dazed sparrows.\n\nThe moment of the meeting of the hosts was come, and with it the\nopportunity the sufferers were seeking; if not taken, it would be lost\nforever, and they would be lost as well.\n\n\u201cNearer, my child\u2014let us get nearer. He cannot hear us,\u201d said the\nmother.\n\nShe arose, and staggered forward. Her ghastly hands were up, and she\nscreamed with horrible shrillness. The people saw her\u2014saw her hideous\nface, and stopped awe-struck\u2014an effect for which extreme human misery,\nvisible as in this instance, is as potent as majesty in purple and\ngold. Tirzah, behind her a little way, fell down too faint and\nfrightened to follow farther.\n\n\u201cThe lepers! the lepers!\u201d\n\n\u201cStone them!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe accursed of God! Kill them!\u201d\n\nThese, with other yells of like import, broke in upon the hosannas of\nthe part of the multitude too far removed to see and understand the\ncause of the interruption. Some there were, however, near by familiar\nwith the nature of the man to whom the unfortunates were appealing\u2014some\nwho, by long intercourse with him, had caught somewhat of his divine\ncompassion: they gazed at him, and were silent while, in fair view, he\nrode up and stopped in front of the woman. She also beheld his\nface\u2014calm, pitiful, and of exceeding beauty, the large eyes tender with\nbenignant purpose.\n\nAnd this was the colloquy that ensued:\n\n\u201cO Master, Master! Thou seest our need; thou canst make us clean. Have\nmercy upon us\u2014mercy!\u201d\n\n\u201cBelievest thou I am able to do this?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThou art he of whom the prophets spake\u2014thou art the Messiah!\u201d she\nreplied.\n\nHis eyes grew radiant, his manner confident.\n\n\u201cWoman,\u201d he said, \u201cgreat is thy faith; be it unto thee even as thou\nwilt.\u201d\n\nHe lingered an instant after, apparently unconscious of the presence of\nthe throng\u2014an instant\u2014then he rode away.\n\nTo the heart divinely original, yet so human in all the better elements\nof humanity, going with sure prevision to a death of all the inventions\nof men the foulest and most cruel, breathing even then in the forecast\nshadow of the awful event, and still as hungry and thirsty for love and\nfaith as in the beginning, how precious and ineffably soothing the\nfarewell exclamation of the grateful woman:\n\n\u201cTo God in the highest, glory! Blessed, thrice blessed, the Son whom he\nhath given us!\u201d\n\nImmediately both the hosts, that from the city and that from Bethphage,\nclosed around him with their joyous demonstrations, with hosannas and\nwaving of palms, and so he passed from the lepers forever. Covering her\nhead, the elder hastened to Tirzah, and folded her in her arms, crying,\n\u201cDaughter, look up! I have his promise; he is indeed the Messiah. We\nare saved\u2014saved!\u201d And the two remained kneeling while the procession,\nslowly going, disappeared over the mount. When the noise of its singing\nafar was a sound scarcely heard the miracle began.\n\nThere was first in the hearts of the lepers a freshening of the blood;\nthen it flowed faster and stronger, thrilling their wasted bodies with\nan infinitely sweet sense of painless healing. Each felt the scourge\ngoing from her; their strength revived; they were returning to be\nthemselves. Directly, as if to make the purification complete, from\nbody to spirit the quickening ran, exalting them to a very fervor of\necstasy. The power possessing them to this good end was most nearly\nthat of a draught of swift and happy effect; yet it was unlike and\nsuperior in that its healing and cleansing were absolute, and not\nmerely a delicious consciousness while in progress, but the planting,\ngrowing, and maturing all at once of a recollection so singular and so\nholy that the simple thought of it should be of itself ever after a\nformless yet perfect thanksgiving.\n\nTo this transformation\u2014for such it may be called quite as properly as a\ncure\u2014there was a witness other than Amrah. The reader will remember the\nconstancy with which Ben-Hur had followed the Nazarene throughout his\nwanderings; and now, recalling the conversation of the night before,\nthere will be little surprise at learning that the young Jew was\npresent when the leprous woman appeared in the path of the pilgrims. He\nheard her prayer, and saw her disfigured face; he heard the answer\nalso, and was not so accustomed to incidents of the kind, frequent as\nthey had been, as to have lost interest in them. Had such thing been\npossible with him, still the bitter disputation always excited by the\nsimplest display of the Master\u2019s curative gift would have sufficed to\nkeep his curiosity alive. Besides that, if not above it as an\nincentive, his hope to satisfy himself upon the vexed question of the\nmission of the mysterious man was still upon him strong as in the\nbeginning; we might indeed say even stronger, because of a belief that\nnow quickly, before the sun went down, the man himself would make all\nknown by public proclamation. At the close of the scene, consequently,\nBen-Hur had withdrawn from the procession, and seated himself upon a\nstone to wait its passage.\n\nFrom his place he nodded recognition to many of the people\u2014Galileans in\nhis league, carrying short swords under their long abbas. After a\nlittle a swarthy Arab came up leading two horses; at a sign from\nBen-Hur he also drew out.\n\n\u201cStay here,\u201d the young master said, when all were gone by, even the\nlaggards. \u201cI wish to be at the city early, and Aldebaran must do me\nservice.\u201d\n\nHe stroked the broad forehead of the horse, now in his prime of\nstrength and beauty, then crossed the road towards the two women.\n\nThey were to him, it should be borne in mind, strangers in whom he felt\ninterest only as they were subjects of a superhuman experiment, the\nresult of which might possibly help him to solution of the mystery that\nhad so long engaged him. As he proceeded, he glanced casually at the\nfigure of the little woman over by the white rock, standing there, her\nface hidden in her hands.\n\n\u201cAs the Lord liveth, it is Amrah!\u201d he said to himself.\n\nHe hurried on, and passing by the mother and daughter, still without\nrecognizing them, he stopped before the servant.\n\n\u201cAmrah,\u201d he said to her, \u201cAmrah, what do you here?\u201d\n\nShe rushed forward, and fell upon her knees before him, blinded by her\ntears, nigh speechless with contending joy and fear.\n\n\u201cO master, master! Thy God and mine, how good he is!\u201d\n\nThe knowledge we gain from much sympathy with others passing through\ntrials is but vaguely understood; strangely enough, it enables us,\namong other things, to merge our identity into theirs often so\ncompletely that their sorrows and their delights become our own. So\npoor Amrah, aloof and hiding her face, knew the transformation the\nlepers were undergoing without a word spoken to her\u2014knew it, and shared\nall their feeling to the full. Her countenance, her words, her whole\nmanner, betrayed her condition; and with swift presentiment he\nconnected it with the women he had just passed: he felt her presence\nthere at that time was in some way associated with them, and turned\nhastily as they arose to their feet. His heart stood still, he became\nrooted in his tracks\u2014dumb past outcry\u2014awe-struck.\n\nThe woman he had seen before the Nazarene was standing with her hands\nclasped and eyes streaming, looking towards heaven. The mere\ntransformation would have been a sufficient surprise; but it was the\nleast of the causes of his emotion. Could he be mistaken? Never was\nthere in life a stranger so like his mother; and like her as she was\nthe day the Roman snatched her from him. There was but one difference\nto mar the identity\u2014the hair of this person was a little streaked with\ngray; yet that was not impossible of reconcilement, since the\nintelligence which had directed the miracle might have taken into\nconsideration the natural effects of the passage of years. And who was\nit by her side, if not Tirzah?\u2014fair, beautiful, perfect, more mature,\nbut in all other respects exactly the same in appearance as when she\nlooked with him over the parapet the morning of the accident to Gratus.\nHe had given them over as dead, and time had accustomed him to the\nbereavement; he had not ceased mourning for them, yet, as something\ndistinguishable, they had simply dropped out of his plans and dreams.\nScarcely believing his senses, he laid his hand upon the servant\u2019s\nhead, and asked, tremulously,\n\n\u201cAmrah, Amrah\u2014my mother! Tirzah! tell me if I see aright.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak to them, O master, speak to them!\u201d she said.\n\nHe waited no longer, but ran, with outstretched arms, crying, \u201cMother!\nmother! Tirzah! Here I am!\u201d\n\nThey heard his call, and with a cry as loving started to meet him.\nSuddenly the mother stopped, drew back, and uttered the old alarm,\n\n\u201cStay, Judah, my son; come not nearer. Unclean, unclean!\u201d\n\nThe utterance was not from habit, grown since the dread disease struck\nher, as much as fear; and the fear was but another form of the\never-thoughtful maternal love. Though they were healed in person, the\ntaint of the scourge might be in their garments ready for\ncommunication. He had no such thought. They were before him; he had\ncalled them, they had answered. Who or what should keep them from him\nnow? Next moment the three, so long separated, were mingling their\ntears in each other\u2019s arms.\n\nThe first ecstasy over, the mother said, \u201cIn this happiness, O my\nchildren, let us not be ungrateful. Let us begin life anew by\nacknowledgment of him to whom we are all so indebted.\u201d\n\nThey fell upon their knees, Amrah with the rest; and the prayer of the\nelder outspoken was as a psalm.\n\nTirzah repeated it word for word; so did Ben-Hur, but not with the same\nclear mind and questionless faith; for when they were risen, he asked,\n\n\u201cIn Nazareth, where the man was born, mother, they call him the son of\na carpenter. What is he?\u201d\n\nHer eyes rested upon him with all their old tenderness, and she\nanswered as she had answered the Nazarene himself\u2014\n\n\u201cHe is the Messiah.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd whence has he his power?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe may know by the use he makes of it. Can you tell me any ill he has\ndone?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy that sign then I answer, He has his power from God.\u201d\n\nIt is not an easy thing to shake off in a moment the expectations\nnurtured through years until they have become essentially a part of us;\nand though Ben-Hur asked himself what the vanities of the world were to\nsuch a one, his ambition was obdurate and would not down. He persisted\nas men do yet every day in measuring the Christ by himself. How much\nbetter if we measured ourselves by the Christ!\n\nNaturally, the mother was the first to think of the cares of life.\n\n\u201cWhat shall we do now, my son? Where shall we go?\u201d\n\nThen Ben-Hur, recalled to duty, observed how completely every trace of\nthe scourge had disappeared from his restored people; that each had\nback her perfection of person; that, as with Naaman when he came up out\nof the water, their flesh had come again like unto the flesh of a\nlittle child; and he took off his cloak, and threw it over Tirzah.\n\n\u201cTake it,\u201d he said, smiling; \u201cthe eye of the stranger would have\nshunned you before, now it shall not offend you.\u201d\n\nThe act exposed a sword belted to his side.\n\n\u201cIs it a time of war?\u201d asked the mother, anxiously.\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, then, are you armed?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt may be necessary to defend the Nazarene.\u201d\n\nThus Ben-Hur evaded the whole truth.\n\n\u201cHas he enemies? Who are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, mother, they are not all Romans!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he not of Israel, and a man of peace?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was never one more so; but in the opinion of the rabbis and\nteachers he is guilty of a great crime.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat crime?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn his eyes the uncircumcised Gentile is as worthy favor as a Jew of\nthe strictest habit. He preaches a new dispensation.\u201d\n\nThe mother was silent, and they moved to the shade of the tree by the\nrock. Calming his impatience to have them home again and hear their\nstory, he showed them the necessity of obedience to the law governing\nin cases like theirs, and in conclusion called the Arab, bidding him\ntake the horses to the gate by Bethesda and await him there; whereupon\nthey set out by the way of the Mount of Offence. The return was very\ndifferent from the coming; they walked rapidly and with ease, and in\ngood time reached a tomb newly made near that of Absalom, overlooking\nthe depths of Cedron. Finding it unoccupied, the women took possession,\nwhile he went on hastily to make the preparations required for their\nnew condition.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nBen-Hur pitched two tents out on the Upper Cedron east a short space of\nthe Tombs of the Kings, and furnished them with every comfort at his\ncommand; and thither, without loss of time, he conducted his mother and\nsister, to remain until the examining priest could certify their\nperfect cleansing.\n\nIn course of the duty, the young man had subjected himself to such\nserious defilement as to debar him from participation in the ceremonies\nof the great feast, then near at hand. He could not enter the least\nsacred of the courts of the Temple. Of necessity, not less than choice,\ntherefore, he stayed at the tents with his beloved people. There was a\ngreat deal to hear from them, and a great deal to tell them of himself.\n\nStories such as theirs\u2014sad experiences extending through a lapse of\nyears, sufferings of body, acuter sufferings of mind\u2014are usually long\nin the telling, the incidents seldom following each other in threaded\nconnection. He listened to the narrative and all they told him, with\noutward patience masking inward feeling. In fact, his hatred of Rome\nand Romans reached a higher mark than ever; his desire for vengeance\nbecame a thirst which attempts at reflection only intensified. In the\nalmost savage bitterness of his humor many mad impulses took hold of\nhim. The opportunities of the highways presented themselves with\nsingular force of temptation; he thought seriously of insurrection in\nGalilee; even the sea, ordinarily a retrospective horror to him,\nstretched itself map-like before his fancy, laced and interlaced with\nlines of passage crowded with imperial plunder and imperial travellers;\nbut the better judgment matured in calmer hours was happily too firmly\nfixed to be supplanted by present passion however strong. Each mental\nventure in reach of new expedients brought him back to the old\nconclusion\u2014that there could be no sound success except in a war\ninvolving all Israel in solid union; and all musing upon the subject,\nall inquiry, all hope, ended where they began\u2014in the Nazarene and his\npurposes.\n\nAt odd moments the excited schemer found a pleasure in fashioning a\nspeech for that person:\n\n\u201cHear, O Israel! I am he, the promised of God, born King of the\nJews\u2014come to you with the dominion spoken of by the prophets. Rise now,\nand lay hold on the world!\u201d\n\nWould the Nazarene but speak these few words, what a tumult would\nfollow! How many mouths performing the office of trumpets would take\nthem up and blow them abroad for the massing of armies!\n\nWould he speak them?\n\nAnd eager to begin the work, and answering in the worldly way, Ben-Hur\nlost sight of the double nature of the man, and of the other\npossibility, that the divine in him might transcend the human. In the\nmiracle of which Tirzah and his mother were the witnesses even more\nnearly than himself, he saw and set apart and dwelt upon a power ample\nenough to raise and support a Jewish crown over the wrecks of the\nItalian, and more than ample to remodel society, and convert mankind\ninto one purified happy family; and when that work was done, could any\none say the peace which might then be ordered without hindrance was not\na mission worthy a son of God? Could any one then deny the Redeemership\nof the Christ? And discarding all consideration of political\nconsequences, what unspeakable personal glory there would then be to\nhim as a man? It was not in the nature of any mere mortal to refuse\nsuch a career.\n\nMeantime down the Cedron, and in towards Bezetha, especially on the\nroadsides quite up to the Damascus Gate, the country filled rapidly\nwith all kinds of temporary shelters for pilgrims to the Passover.\nBen-Hur visited the strangers, and talked with them; and returning to\nhis tents, he was each time more and more astonished at the vastness of\ntheir numbers. And when he further discovered that every part of the\nworld was represented among them\u2014cities upon both shores of the\nMediterranean far off as the Pillars of the West, river-towns in\ndistant India, provinces in northernmost Europe; and that, though they\nfrequently saluted him with tongues unacquainted with a syllable of the\nold Hebrew of the fathers, these representatives had all the same\nobject\u2014celebration of the notable feast\u2014an idea tinged mistily with\nsuperstitious fancy forced itself upon him. Might he not after all have\nmisunderstood the Nazarene? Might not that person by patient waiting be\ncovering silent preparation, and proving his fitness for the glorious\ntask before him? How much better this time for the movement than that\nother when, by Gennesaret, the Galileans would have forced assumption\nof the crown? Then the support would have been limited to a few\nthousands; now his proclamation would be responded to by millions\u2014who\ncould say how many? Pursuing this theory to its conclusions, Ben-Hur\nmoved amidst brilliant promises, and glowed with the thought that the\nmelancholy man, under gentle seeming and wondrous self-denial, was in\nfact carrying in disguise the subtlety of a politician and the genius\nof a soldier.\n\nSeveral times also, in the meanwhile, low-set, brawny men, bareheaded\nand black-bearded, came and asked for Ben-Hur at the tent; his\ninterviews with them were always apart; and to his mother\u2019s question\nwho they were he answered,\n\n\u201cSome good friends of mine from Galilee.\u201d\n\nThrough them he kept informed of the movements of the Nazarene, and of\nthe schemes of the Nazarene\u2019s enemies, Rabbinical and Roman. That the\ngood man\u2019s life was in danger, he knew; but that there were any bold\nenough to attempt to take it at that time, he could not believe. It\nseemed too securely intrenched in a great fame and an assured\npopularity. The very vastness of the attendance in and about the city\nbrought with it a seeming guaranty of safety. And yet, to say truth,\nBen-Hur\u2019s confidence rested most certainly upon the miraculous power of\nthe Christ. Pondering the subject in the purely human view, that the\nmaster of such authority over life and death, used so frequently for\nthe good of others, would not exert it in care of himself was simply as\nmuch past belief as it was past understanding.\n\nNor should it be forgotten that all these were incidents of occurrence\nbetween the twenty-first day of March\u2014counting by the modern\ncalendar\u2014and the twenty-fifth. The evening of the latter day Ben-Hur\nyielded to his impatience, and rode to the city, leaving behind him a\npromise to return in the night.\n\nThe horse was fresh, and choosing his own gait, sped swiftly. The eyes\nof the clambering vines winked at the rider from the garden fences on\nthe way; there was nothing else to see him, nor child nor woman nor\nman. Through the rocky float in the hollows of the road the agate hoofs\ndrummed, ringing like cups of steel; but without notice from any\nstranger. In the houses passed there were no tenants; the fires by the\ntent-doors were out; the road was deserted; for this was the first\nPassover eve, and the hour \u201cbetween the evenings\u201d when the visiting\nmillions crowded the city, and the slaughter of lambs in offering\nreeked the fore-courts of the Temple, and the priests in ordered lines\ncaught the flowing blood and carried it swiftly to the dripping\naltars\u2014when all was haste and hurry, racing with the stars fast coming\nwith the signal after which the roasting and the eating and the singing\nmight go on, but not the preparation more.\n\nThrough the great northern gate the rider rode, and lo! Jerusalem\nbefore the fall, in ripeness of glory, illuminated for the Lord.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nBen-Hur alighted at the gate of the khan from which the three Wise Men\nmore than thirty years before departed, going down to Bethlehem. There,\nin keeping of his Arab followers, he left the horse, and shortly after\nwas at the wicket of his father\u2019s house, and in a yet briefer space in\nthe great chamber. He called for Malluch first; that worthy being out,\nhe sent a salutation to his friends the merchant and the Egyptian. They\nwere being carried abroad to see the celebration. The latter, he was\ninformed, was very feeble, and in a state of deep dejection.\n\nYoung people of that time who were supposed hardly to know their own\nhearts indulged the habit of politic indirection quite as much as young\npeople in the same condition indulge it in this time; so when Ben-Hur\ninquired for the good Balthasar, and with grave courtesy desired to\nknow if he would be pleased to see him, he really addressed the\ndaughter a notice of his arrival. While the servant was answering for\nthe elder, the curtain of the doorway was drawn aside, and the younger\nEgyptian came in, and walked\u2014or floated, upborne in a white cloud of\nthe gauzy raiment she so loved and lived in\u2014to the centre of the\nchamber, where the light cast by lamps from the seven-armed brazen\nstick planted upon the floor was the strongest. With her there was no\nfear of light.\n\nThe servant left the two alone.\n\nIn the excitement occasioned by the events of the few days past Ben-Hur\nhad scarcely given a thought to the fair Egyptian. If she came to his\nmind at all, it was merely as a briefest pleasure, a suggestion of a\ndelight which could wait for him, and was waiting.\n\nBut now the influence of the woman revived with all its force the\ninstant Ben-Hur beheld her. He advanced to her eagerly, but stopped and\ngazed. Such a change he had never seen!\n\nTheretofore she had been a lover studious to win him\u2014in manner all\nwarmth, each glance an admission, each action an avowal. She had\nshowered him with incense of flattery. While he was present, she had\nimpressed him with her admiration; going away, he carried the\nimpression with him to remain a delicious expectancy hastening his\nreturn. It was for him the painted eyelids drooped lowest over the\nlustrous almond eyes; for him the love-stories caught from the\nprofessionals abounding in the streets of Alexandria were repeated with\nemphasis and lavishment of poetry; for him endless exclamations of\nsympathy, and smiles, and little privileges with hand and hair and\ncheek and lips, and songs of the Nile, and displays of jewelry, and\nsubtleties of lace in veils and scarfs, and other subtleties not less\nexquisite in flosses of Indian silk. The idea, old as the oldest of\npeoples, that beauty is the reward of the hero had never such realism\nas she contrived for his pleasure; insomuch that he could not doubt he\nwas her hero; she avouched it in a thousand artful ways as natural with\nher as her beauty\u2014winsome ways reserved, it would seem, by the\npassionate genius of old Egypt for its daughters.\n\nSuch the Egyptian had been to Ben-Hur from the night of the boat-ride\non the lake in the Orchard of Palms. But now!\n\nElsewhere in this volume the reader may have observed a term of\nsomewhat indefinite meaning used reverently in a sacred connection; we\nrepeat it now with a general application. There are few persons who\nhave not a double nature, the real and the acquired; the latter a kind\nof addendum resulting from education, which in time often perfects it\ninto a part of the being as unquestionable as the first. Leaving the\nthought to the thoughtful, we proceed to say that now the real nature\nof the Egyptian made itself manifest.\n\nIt was not possible for her to have received a stranger with repulsion\nmore incisive; yet she was apparently as passionless as a statue, only\nthe small head was a little tilted, the nostrils a little drawn, and\nthe sensuous lower lip pushed the upper the least bit out of its\nnatural curvature.\n\nShe was the first to speak.\n\n\u201cYour coming is timely, O son of Hur,\u201d she said, in a voice sharply\ndistinct. \u201cI wish to thank you for hospitality; after to-morrow I may\nnot have the opportunity to do so.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur bowed slightly without taking his eyes from her.\n\n\u201cI have heard of a custom which the dice-players observe with good\nresult among themselves,\u201d she continued. \u201cWhen the game is over, they\nrefer to their tablets and cast up their accounts; then they libate the\ngods and put a crown upon the happy winner. We have had a game\u2014it has\nlasted through many days and nights. Why, now that it is at an end,\nshall not we see to which the chaplet belongs?\u201d\n\nYet very watchful, Ben-Hur answered, lightly, \u201cA man may not balk a\nwoman bent on having her way.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d she continued, inclining her head, and permitting the sneer\nto become positive\u2014\u201ctell me, O prince of Jerusalem, where is he, that\nson of the carpenter of Nazareth, and son not less of God, from whom so\nlately such mighty things were expected?\u201d\n\nHe waved his hand impatiently, and replied, \u201cI am not his keeper.\u201d\n\nThe beautiful head sank forward yet lower.\n\n\u201cHas he broken Rome to pieces?\u201d\n\nAgain, but with anger, Ben-Hur raised his hand in deprecation.\n\n\u201cWhere has he seated his capital?\u201d she proceeded. \u201cCannot I go see his\nthrone and its lions of bronze? And his palace\u2014he raised the dead; and\nto such a one, what is it to raise a golden house? He has but to stamp\nhis foot and say the word, and the house is, pillared like Karnak, and\nwanting nothing.\u201d\n\nThere was by this time slight ground left to believe her playing; the\nquestions were offensive, and her manner pointed with unfriendliness;\nseeing which, he on his side became more wary, and said, with good\nhumor, \u201cO Egypt, let us wait another day, even another week, for him,\nthe lions, and the palace.\u201d\n\nShe went on without noticing the suggestion.\n\n\u201cAnd how is it I see you in that garb? Such is not the habit of\ngovernors in India or vice-kings elsewhere. I saw the satrap of Teheran\nonce, and he wore a turban of silk and a cloak of cloth of gold, and\nthe hilt and scabbard of his sword made me dizzy with their splendor of\nprecious stones. I thought Osiris had lent him a glory from the sun. I\nfear you have not entered upon your kingdom\u2014the kingdom I was to share\nwith you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe daughter of my wise guest is kinder than she imagines herself; she\nis teaching me that Isis may kiss a heart without making it better.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur spoke with cold courtesy, and Iras, after playing with the\npendent solitaire of her necklace of coins, rejoined, \u201cFor a Jew, the\nson of Hur is clever. I saw your dreaming C\u00e6sar make his entry into\nJerusalem. You told us he would that day proclaim himself King of the\nJews from the steps of the Temple. I beheld the procession descend the\nmountain bringing him. I heard their singing. They were beautiful with\npalms in motion. I looked everywhere among them for a figure with a\npromise of royalty\u2014a horseman in purple, a chariot with a driver in\nshining brass, a stately warrior behind an orbed shield, rivalling his\nspear in stature. I looked for his guard. It would have been pleasant\nto have seen a prince of Jerusalem and a cohort of the legions of\nGalilee.\u201d\n\nShe flung her listener a glance of provoking disdain, then laughed\nheartily, as if the ludicrousness of the picture in her mind were too\nstrong for contempt.\n\n\u201cInstead of a Sesostris returning in triumph or a C\u00e6sar helmed and\nsworded\u2014ha, ha, ha!\u2014I saw a man with a woman\u2019s face and hair, riding an\nass\u2019s colt, and in tears. The King! the Son of God! the Redeemer of the\nworld! Ha, ha, ha!\u201d\n\nIn spite of himself, Ben-Hur winced.\n\n\u201cI did not quit my place, O prince of Jerusalem,\u201d she said, before he\ncould recover. \u201cI did not laugh. I said to myself, \u2018Wait. In the Temple\nhe will glorify himself as becomes a hero about to take possession of\nthe world.\u2019 I saw him enter the Gate of Shushan and the Court of the\nWomen. I saw him stop and stand before the Gate Beautiful. There were\npeople with me on the porch and in the courts, and on the cloisters and\non the steps of the three sides of the Temple there were other people\u2014I\nwill say a million of people, all waiting breathlessly to hear his\nproclamation. The pillars were not more still than we. Ha, ha, ha! I\nfancied I heard the axles of the mighty Roman machine begin to crack.\nHa, ha, ha! O prince, by the soul of Solomon, your King of the World\ndrew his gown about him and walked away, and out by the farthest gate,\nnor opened his mouth to say a word; and\u2014the Roman machine is running\nyet!\u201d\n\nIn simple homage to a hope that instant lost\u2014a hope which, as it began\nto fall and while it was falling, he unconsciously followed with a\nparting look down to its disappearance\u2014Ben-Hur lowered his eyes.\n\nAt no previous time, whether when Balthasar was plying him with\narguments, or when miracles were being done before his face, had the\ndisputed nature of the Nazarene been so plainly set before him. The\nbest way, after all, to reach an understanding of the divine is by\nstudy of the human. In the things superior to men we may always look to\nfind God. So with the picture given by the Egyptian of the scene when\nthe Nazarene turned from the Gate Beautiful; its central theme was an\nact utterly beyond performance by a man under control of merely human\ninspirations. A parable to a parable-loving people, it taught what the\nChrist had so often asserted\u2014that his mission was not political. There\nwas not much more time for thought of all this than that allowed for a\ncommon respiration; yet the idea took fast hold of Ben-Hur, and in the\nsame instant he followed his hope of vengeance out of sight, and the\nman with the woman\u2019s face and hair, and in tears, came near to him\u2014near\nenough to leave something of his spirit behind.\n\n\u201cDaughter of Balthasar,\u201d he said, with dignity, \u201cif this be the game of\nwhich you spoke to me, take the chaplet\u2014I accord it yours. Only let us\nmake an end of words. That you have a purpose I am sure. To it, I pray,\nand I will answer you; then let us go our several ways, and forget we\never met. Say on; I will listen, but not to more of that which you have\ngiven me.\u201d\n\nShe regarded him intently a moment, as if determining what to\ndo\u2014possibly she might have been measuring his will\u2014then she said,\ncoldly, \u201cYou have my leave\u2014go.\u201d\n\n\u201cPeace to you,\u201d he responded, and walked away.\n\nAs he was about passing out of the door, she called to him.\n\n\u201cA word.\u201d\n\nHe stopped where he was, and looked back.\n\n\u201cConsider all I know about you.\u201d\n\n\u201cO most fair Egyptian,\u201d he said, returning, \u201cwhat all do you know about\nme?\u201d\n\nShe looked at him absently.\n\n\u201cYou are more of a Roman, son of Hur, then any of your Hebrew\nbrethren.\u201d\n\n\u201cAm I so unlike my countrymen?\u201d he asked, indifferently.\n\n\u201cThe demi-gods are all Roman now,\u201d she rejoined.\n\n\u201cAnd therefore you will tell me what more you know about me?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe likeness is not lost upon me. It might induce me to save you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSave me!\u201d\n\nThe pink-stained fingers toyed daintily with the lustrous pendant at\nthe throat, and her voice was exceeding low and soft; only a tapping on\nthe floor with her silken sandal admonished him to have a care.\n\n\u201cThere was a Jew, an escaped galley-slave, who killed a man in the\nPalace of Idernee,\u201d she began, slowly.\n\nBen-Hur was startled.\n\n\u201cThe same Jew slew a Roman soldier before the Market-place here in\nJerusalem; the same Jew has three trained legions from Galilee to seize\nthe Roman governor to-night; the same Jew has alliances perfected for\nwar upon Rome, and Ilderim the Sheik is one of his partners.\u201d\n\nDrawing nearer him, she almost whispered,\n\n\u201cYou have lived in Rome. Suppose these things repeated in ears we know\nof. Ah! you change color.\u201d\n\nHe drew back from her with somewhat of the look which may be imagined\nupon the face of a man who, thinking to play with a kitten, has run\nupon a tiger; and she proceeded:\n\n\u201cYou are acquainted in the antechamber, and know the Lord Sejanus.\nSuppose it were told him with the proofs in hand\u2014or without the\nproofs\u2014that the same Jew is the richest man in the East\u2014nay, in all the\nempire. The fishes of the Tiber would have fattening other than that\nthey dig out of its ooze, would they not? And while they were\nfeeding\u2014ha! son of Hur!\u2014what splendor there would be on exhibition in\nthe Circus! Amusing the Roman people is a fine art; getting the money\nto keep them amused is another art even finer; and was there ever an\nartist the equal of the Lord Sejanus?\u201d\n\nBen-Hur was not too much stirred by the evident baseness of the woman\nfor recollection. Not unfrequently when all the other faculties are\nnumb and failing memory does its offices with the greatest fidelity.\nThe scene at the spring on the way to the Jordan reproduced itself; and\nhe remembered thinking then that Esther had betrayed him, and thinking\nso now, he said calmly as he could,\n\n\u201cTo give you pleasure, daughter of Egypt, I acknowledge your cunning,\nand that I am at your mercy. It may also please you to hear me\nacknowledge I have no hope of your favor. I could kill you, but you are\na woman. The Desert is open to receive me; and though Rome is a good\nhunter of men, there she would follow long and far before she caught\nme, for in its heart there are wildernesses of spears as well as\nwildernesses of sand, and it is not unlovely to the unconquered\nParthian. In the toils as I am\u2014dupe that I have been\u2014yet there is one\nthing my due: who told you all you know about me? In flight or\ncaptivity, dying even, there will be consolation in leaving the traitor\nthe curse of a man who has lived knowing nothing but wretchedness. Who\ntold you all you know about me?\u201d\n\nIt might have been a touch of art, or might have been sincere\u2014that as\nit may\u2014the expression of the Egyptian\u2019s face became sympathetic.\n\n\u201cThere are in my country, O son of Hur,\u201d she said, presently, \u201cworkmen\nwho make pictures by gathering vari-colored shells here and there on\nthe sea-shore after storms, and cutting them up, and patching the\npieces as inlaying on marble slabs. Can you not see the hint there is\nin the practice to such as go searching for secrets? Enough that from\nthis person I gathered a handful of little circumstances, and from that\nother yet another handful, and that afterwhile I put them together, and\nwas happy as a woman can be who has at disposal the fortune and life of\na man whom\u201d\u2014she stopped, and beat the floor with her foot, and looked\naway as if to hide a sudden emotion from him; with an air of even\npainful resolution she presently finished the sentence\u2014\u201cwhom she is at\nloss what to do with.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it is not enough,\u201d Ben-Hur said, unmoved by the play\u2014\u201cit is not\nenough. To-morrow you will determine what to do with me. I may die.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d she rejoined quickly and with emphasis, \u201cI had something from\nSheik Ilderim as he lay with my father in a grove out in the Desert.\nThe night was still, very still, and the walls of the tent, sooth to\nsay, were poor ward against ears outside listening to\u2014birds and beetles\nflying through the air.\u201d\n\nShe smiled at the conceit, but proceeded:\n\n\u201cSome other things\u2014bits of shell for the picture\u2014I had from\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe son of Hur himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas there no other who contributed?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not one.\u201d\n\nHur drew a breath of relief, and said, lightly, \u201cThanks. It were not\nwell to keep the Lord Sejanus waiting for you. The Desert is not so\nsensitive. Again, O Egypt, peace!\u201d\n\nTo this time he had been standing uncovered; now he took the\nhandkerchief from his arm where it had been hanging, and adjusting it\nupon his head, turned to depart. But she arrested him; in her\neagerness, she even reached a hand to him.\n\n\u201cStay,\u201d she said.\n\nHe looked back at her, but without taking the hand, though it was very\nnoticeable for its sparkling of jewels; and he knew by her manner that\nthe reserved point of the scene which was so surprising to him was now\nto come.\n\n\u201cStay, and do not distrust me, O son of Hur, if I declare I know why\nthe noble Arrius took you for his heir. And, by Isis! by all the gods\nof Egypt! I swear I tremble to think of you, so brave and generous,\nunder the hand of the remorseless minister. You have left a portion of\nyour youth in the atria of the great capital; consider, as I do, what\nthe Desert will be to you in contrast of life. Oh, I give you\npity\u2014pity! And if you but do what I say, I will save you. That, also, I\nswear, by our holy Isis!\u201d\n\nWords of entreaty and prayer these, poured forth volubly and with\nearnestness and the mighty sanction of beauty.\n\n\u201cAlmost\u2014almost I believe you,\u201d Ben-Hur said, yet hesitatingly, and in a\nvoice low and indistinct; for a doubt remained with him grumbling\nagainst the yielding tendency of the man\u2014a good sturdy doubt, such a\none as has saved many a life and fortune.\n\n\u201cThe perfect life for a woman is to live in love; the greatest\nhappiness for a man is the conquest of himself; and that, O prince, is\nwhat I have to ask of you.\u201d\n\nShe spoke rapidly, and with animation; indeed, she had never appeared\nto him so fascinating.\n\n\u201cYou had once a friend,\u201d she continued. \u201cIt was in your boyhood. There\nwas a quarrel, and you and he became enemies. He did you wrong. After\nmany years you met him again in the Circus at Antioch.\u201d\n\n\u201cMessala!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Messala. You are his creditor. Forgive the past; admit him to\nfriendship again; restore the fortune he lost in the great wager;\nrescue him. The six talents are as nothing to you; not so much as a bud\nlost upon a tree already in full leaf; but to him\u2014 Ah, he must go about\nwith a broken body; wherever you meet him he must look up to you from\nthe ground. O Ben-Hur, noble prince! to a Roman descended as he is\nbeggary is the other most odious name for death. Save him from\nbeggary!\u201d\n\nIf the rapidity with which she spoke was a cunning invention to keep\nhim from thinking, either she never knew or else had forgotten that\nthere are convictions which derive nothing from thought, but drop into\nplace without leave or notice. It seemed to him, when at last she\npaused to have his answer, that he could see Messala himself peering at\nhim over her shoulder; and in its expression the countenance of the\nRoman was not that of a mendicant or a friend; the sneer was as\npatrician as ever, and the fine edge of the hauteur as flawless and\nirritating.\n\n\u201cThe appeal has been decided then, and for once a Messala takes\nnothing. I must go and write it in my book of great occurrences\u2014a\njudgment by a Roman against a Roman! But did he\u2014did Messala send you to\nme with this request, O Egypt?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has a noble nature, and judged you by it.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur took the hand upon arm.\n\n\u201cAs you know him in such friendly way, fair Egyptian, tell me, would he\ndo for me, there being a reversal of the conditions, that he asks of\nme? Answer, by Isis! Answer, for the truth\u2019s sake!\u201d\n\nThere was insistence in the touch of his hand, and in his look also.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d she began, \u201che is\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cA Roman, you were about to say; meaning that I, a Jew, must not\ndetermine dues from me to him by any measure of dues from him to me;\nbeing a Jew, I must forgive him my winnings because he is a Roman. If\nyou have more to tell me, daughter of Balthasar, speak quickly,\nquickly; for by the Lord God of Israel, when this heat of blood, hotter\nwaxing, attains its highest, I may not be able longer to see that you\nare a woman, and beautiful! I may see but the spy of a master the more\nhateful because the master is a Roman. Say on, and quickly.\u201d\n\nShe threw his hand off and stepped back into the full light, with all\nthe evil of her nature collected in her eyes and voice.\n\n\u201cThou drinker of lees, feeder upon husks! To think I could love thee,\nhaving seen Messala! Such as thou were born to serve him. He would have\nbeen satisfied with release of the six talents; but I say to the six\nthou shalt add twenty\u2014twenty, dost thou hear? The kissings of my little\nfinger which thou hast taken from him, though with my consent, shall be\npaid for; and that I have followed thee with affection of sympathy, and\nendured thee so long, enter into the account not less because I was\nserving him. The merchant here is thy keeper of moneys. If by to-morrow\nat noon he has not thy order acted upon in favor of my Messala for\nsix-and-twenty talents\u2014mark the sum!\u2014thou shalt settle with the Lord\nSejanus. Be wise and\u2014farewell.\u201d\n\nAs she was going to the door, he put himself in her way.\n\n\u201cThe old Egypt lives in you,\u201d he said. \u201cWhether you see Messala\nto-morrow or the next day, here or in Rome, give him this message. Tell\nhim I have back the money, even the six talents, he robbed me of by\nrobbing my father\u2019s estate; tell him I survived the galleys to which he\nhad me sent, and in my strength rejoice in his beggary and dishonor;\ntell him I think the affliction of body which he has from my hand is\nthe curse of our Lord God of Israel upon him more fit than death for\nhis crimes against the helpless; tell him my mother and sister whom he\nhad sent to a cell in Antonia that they might die of leprosy, are alive\nand well, thanks to the power of the Nazarene whom you so despise; tell\nhim that, to fill my measure of happiness, they are restored to me, and\nthat I will go hence to their love, and find in it more than\ncompensation for the impure passions which you leave me to take to him;\ntell him\u2014this for your comfort, O cunning incarnate, as much as\nhis\u2014tell him that when the Lord Sejanus comes to despoil me he will\nfind nothing; for the inheritance I had from the duumvir, including the\nvilla by Misenum, has been sold, and the money from the sale is out of\nreach, afloat in the marts of the world as bills of exchange; and that\nthis house and the goods and merchandise and the ships and caravans\nwith which Simonides plies his commerce with such princely profits are\ncovered by imperial safeguards\u2014a wise head having found the price of\nthe favor, and the Lord Sejanus preferring a reasonable gain in the way\nof gift to much gain fished from pools of blood and wrong; tell him if\nall this were not so, if the money and property were all mine, yet\nshould he not have the least part of it, for when he finds our Jewish\nbills, and forces them to give up their values, there is yet another\nresort left me\u2014a deed of gift to C\u00e6sar\u2014so much, O Egypt, I found out\nin the atria of the great capital; tell him that along with my defiance\nI do not send him a curse in words, but, as a better expression of my\nundying hate, I send him one who will prove to him the sum of all\ncurses; and when he looks at you repeating this my message, daughter of\nBalthasar, his Roman shrewdness will tell him all I mean. Go now\u2014and I\nwill go.\u201d\n\nHe conducted her to the door, and, with ceremonious politeness, held\nback the curtain while she passed out.\n\n\u201cPeace to you,\u201d he said, as she disappeared.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nWhen Ben-Hur left the guest-chamber, there was not nearly so much life\nin his action as when he entered it; his steps were slower, and he went\nalong with his head quite upon his breast. Having made discovery that a\nman with a broken back may yet have a sound brain, he was reflecting\nupon the discovery.\n\nForasmuch as it is easy after a calamity has befallen to look back and\nsee the proofs of its coming strewn along the way, the thought that he\nhad not even suspected the Egyptian as in Messala\u2019s interest, but had\ngone blindly on through whole years putting himself and his friends\nmore and more at her mercy, was a sore wound to the young man\u2019s vanity.\n\u201cI remember,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cshe had no word of indignation for\nthe perfidious Roman at the Fountain of Castalia! I remember she\nextolled him at the boat-ride on the lake in the Orchard of Palms! And,\nah!\u201d\u2014he stopped, and beat his left hand violently with his right\u2014\u201cah!\nthat mystery about the appointment she made with me at the Palace of\nIdernee is no mystery now!\u201d\n\nThe wound, it should be observed, was to his vanity; and fortunately it\nis not often that people die of such hurts, or even continue a long\ntime sick. In Ben-Hur\u2019s case, moreover, there was a compensation; for\npresently he exclaimed aloud, \u201cPraised be the Lord God that the woman\ntook not a more lasting hold on me! I see I did not love her.\u201d\n\nThen, as if he had already parted with not a little of the weight on\nhis mind, he stepped forward more lightly; and, coming to the place on\nthe terrace where one stairway led down to the court-yard below, and\nanother ascended to the roof, he took the latter and began to climb. As\nhe made the last step in the flight he stopped again.\n\n\u201cCan Balthasar have been her partner in the long mask she has been\nplaying? No, no. Hypocrisy seldom goes with wrinkled age like that.\nBalthasar is a good man.\u201d\n\nWith this decided opinion he stepped upon the roof. There was a full\nmoon overhead, yet the vault of the sky at the moment was lurid with\nlight cast up from the fires burning in the streets and open places of\nthe city, and the chanting and chorusing of the old psalmody of Israel\nfilled it with plaintive harmonies to which he could not but listen.\nThe countless voices bearing the burden seemed to say, \u201cThus, O son of\nJudah, we prove our worshipfulness of the Lord God, and our loyalty to\nthe land he gave us. Let a Gideon appear, or a David, or a Maccabaeus,\nand we are ready.\u201d\n\nThat seemed an introduction; for next he saw the man of Nazareth.\n\nIn certain moods the mind is disposed to mock itself with inapposite\nfancies.\n\nThe tearful woman-like face of the Christ stayed with him while he\ncrossed the roof to the parapet above the street on the north side of\nthe house, and there was in it no sign of war; but rather as the\nheavens of calm evenings look peace upon everything, so it looked,\nprovoking the old question, What manner of man is he?\n\nBen-Hur permitted himself one glance over the parapet, then turned and\nwalked mechanically towards the summer-house.\n\n\u201cLet them do their worst,\u201d he said, as he went slowly on. \u201cI will not\nforgive the Roman. I will not divide my fortune with him, nor will I\nfly from this city of my fathers. I will call on Galilee first, and\nhere make the fight. By brave deeds I will bring the tribes to our\nside. He who raised up Moses will find us a leader, if I fail. If not\nthe Nazarene, then some other of the many ready to die for freedom.\u201d\n\nThe interior of the summer-house, when Ben-Hur, slow sauntering, came\nto it, was murkily lighted. The faintest of shadows lay along the floor\nfrom the pillars on the north and west sides. Looking in, he saw the\narm-chair usually occupied by Simonides drawn to a spot from which a\nview of the city over towards the Market-place could be best had.\n\n\u201cThe good man is returned. I will speak with him, unless he be asleep.\u201d\n\nHe walked in, and with a quiet step approached the chair. Peering over\nthe high back, he beheld Esther nestled in the seat asleep\u2014a small\nfigure snugged away under her father\u2019s lap-robe. The hair dishevelled\nfell over her face. Her breathing was low and irregular. Once it was\nbroken by a long sigh, ending in a sob. Something\u2014it might have been\nthe sigh or the loneliness in which he found her\u2014imparted to him the\nidea that the sleep was a rest from sorrow rather than fatigue. Nature\nkindly sends such relief to children, and he was used to thinking\nEsther scarcely more than a child. He put his arms upon the back of the\nchair, and thought.\n\n\u201cI will not wake her. I have nothing to tell her\u2014nothing unless\u2014unless\nit be my love.... She is a daughter of Judah, and beautiful, and so\nunlike the Egyptian; for there it is all vanity, here all truth; there\nambition, here duty; there selfishness, here self-sacrifice.... Nay,\nthe question is not do I love her, but does she love me? She was my\nfriend from the beginning. The night on the terrace at Antioch, how\nchild-like she begged me not to make Rome my enemy, and had me tell her\nof the villa by Misenum, and of the life there! That she should not see\nI saw her cunning drift I kissed her. Can she have forgotten the kiss!\nI have not. I love her.... They do not know in the city that I have\nback my people. I shrank from telling it to the Egyptian; but this\nlittle one will rejoice with me over their restoration, and welcome\nthem with love and sweet services of hand and heart. She will be to my\nmother another daughter; in Tirzah she will find her other self. I\nwould wake her and tell her these things, but\u2014out on the sorceress of\nEgypt! Of that folly I could not command myself to speak. I will go\naway, and wait another and a better time. I will wait. Fair Esther,\ndutiful child, daughter of Judah!\u201d\n\nHe retired silently as he came.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nThe streets were full of people going and coming, or grouped about the\nfires roasting meat, and feasting and singing, and happy. The odor of\nscorching flesh mixed with the odor of cedar-wood aflame and smoking\nloaded the air; and as this was the occasion when every son of Israel\nwas full brother to every other son of Israel, and hospitality was\nwithout bounds, Ben-Hur was saluted at every step, while the groups by\nthe fires insisted, \u201cStay and partake with us. We are brethren in the\nlove of the Lord.\u201d But with thanks to them he hurried on, intending to\ntake horse at the khan and return to the tents on the Cedron.\n\nTo make the place, it was necessary for him to cross the thoroughfare\nso soon to receive sorrowful Christian perpetuation. There also the\npious celebration was at its height. Looking up the street, he noticed\nthe flames of torches in motion streaming out like pennons; then he\nobserved that the singing ceased where the torches came. His wonder\nrose to its highest, however, when he became certain that amidst the\nsmoke and dancing sparks he saw the keener sparkling of burnished\nspear-tips, arguing the presence of Roman soldiers. What were they, the\nscoffing legionaries, doing in a Jewish religious procession? The\ncircumstance was unheard of, and he stayed to see the meaning of it.\n\nThe moon was shining its best; yet, as if the moon and the torches, and\nthe fires in the street, and the rays streaming from windows and open\ndoors were not enough to make the way clear, some of the processionists\ncarried lighted lanterns; and fancying he discovered a special purpose\nin the use of such equipments, Ben-Hur stepped into the street so close\nto the line of march as to bring every one of the company under view\nwhile passing. The torches and the lanterns were being borne by\nservants, each of whom was armed with a bludgeon or a sharpened stave.\nTheir present duty seemed to be to pick out the smoothest paths among\nthe rocks in the street for certain dignitaries among them\u2014elders and\npriests; rabbis with long beards, heavy brows, and beaked noses; men of\nthe class potential in the councils of Caiaphas and Hannas. Where could\nthey be going? Not to the Temple, certainly, for the route to the\nsacred house from Zion, whence these appeared to be coming, was by the\nXystus. And their business\u2014if peaceful, why the soldiers?\n\nAs the procession began to go by Ben-Hur, his attention was\nparticularly called to three persons walking together. They were well\ntowards the front, and the servants who went before them with lanterns\nappeared unusually careful in the service. In the person moving on the\nleft of this group he recognized a chief policeman of the Temple; the\none on the right was a priest; the middle man was not at first so\neasily placed, as he walked leaning heavily upon the arms of the\nothers, and carried his head so low upon his breast as to hide his\nface. His appearance was that of a prisoner not yet recovered from the\nfright of arrest, or being taken to something dreadful\u2014to torture or\ndeath. The dignitaries helping him on the right and left, and the\nattention they gave him, made it clear that if he were not himself the\nobject moving the party, he was at least in some way connected with the\nobject\u2014a witness or a guide, possibly an informer. So if it could be\nfound who he was the business in hand might be shrewdly guessed. With\ngreat assurance, Ben-Hur fell in on the right of the priest, and walked\nalong with him. Now if the man would lift his head! And presently he\ndid so, letting the light of the lanterns strike full in his face,\npale, dazed, pinched with dread; the beard roughed; the eyes filmy,\nsunken, and despairing. In much going about following the Nazarene,\nBen-Hur had come to know his disciples as well as the Master; and now,\nat sight of the dismal countenance, he cried out,\n\n\u201cThe \u2019Scariot!\u201d\n\nSlowly the head of the man turned until his eyes settled upon Ben-Hur,\nand his lips moved as if he were about to speak; but the priest\ninterfered.\n\n\u201cWho art thou? Begone!\u201d he said to Ben-Hur, pushing him away.\n\nThe young man took the push good-naturedly, and, waiting an\nopportunity, fell into the procession again. Thus he was carried\npassively along down the street, through the crowded lowlands between\nthe hill Bezetha and the Castle of Antonia, and on by the Bethesda\nreservoir to the Sheep Gate. There were people everywhere, and\neverywhere the people were engaged in sacred observances.\n\nIt being Passover night, the valves of the Gate stood open. The keepers\nwere off somewhere feasting. In front of the procession as it passed\nout unchallenged was the deep gorge of the Cedron, with Olivet beyond,\nits dressing of cedar and olive trees darker of the moonlight silvering\nall the heavens. Two roads met and merged into the street at the\ngate\u2014one from the northeast, the other from Bethany. Ere Ben-Hur could\nfinish wondering whether he were to go farther, and if so, which road\nwas to be taken, he was led off down into the gorge. And still no hint\nof the purpose of the midnight march.\n\nDown the gorge and over the bridge at the bottom of it. There was a\ngreat clatter on the floor as the crowd, now a straggling rabble,\npassed over beating and pounding with their clubs and staves. A little\nfarther, and they turned off to the left in the direction of an olive\norchard enclosed by a stone wall in view from the road. Ben-Hur knew\nthere was nothing in the place but old gnarled trees, the grass, and a\ntrough hewn out of a rock for the treading of oil after the fashion of\nthe country. While, yet more wonder-struck, he was thinking what could\nbring such a company at such an hour to a quarter so lonesome, they\nwere all brought to a standstill. Voices called out excitedly in front;\na chill sensation ran from man to man; there was a rapid falling-back,\nand a blind stumbling over each other. The soldiers alone kept their\norder.\n\nIt took Ben-Hur but a moment to disengage himself from the mob and run\nforward. There he found a gateway without a gate admitting to the\norchard, and he halted to take in the scene.\n\nA man in white clothes, and bareheaded, was standing outside the\nentrance, his hands crossed before him\u2014a slender, stooping figure, with\nlong hair and thin face\u2014in an attitude of resignation and waiting.\n\nIt was the Nazarene!\n\nBehind him, next the gateway, were the disciples in a group; they were\nexcited, but no man was ever calmer than he. The torchlight beat redly\nupon him, giving his hair a tint ruddier than was natural to it; yet\nthe expression of the countenance was as usual all gentleness and pity.\n\nOpposite this most unmartial figure stood the rabble, gaping, silent,\nawed, cowering\u2014ready at a sign of anger from him to break and run. And\nfrom him to them\u2014then at Judas, conspicuous in their midst\u2014Ben-Hur\nlooked\u2014one quick glance, and the object of the visit lay open to his\nunderstanding. Here was the betrayer, there the betrayed; and these\nwith clubs and staves, and the legionaries, were brought to take him.\n\nA man may not always tell what he will do until the trial is upon him.\nThis was the emergency for which Ben-Hur had been for years preparing.\nThe man to whose security he had devoted himself, and upon whose life\nhe had been building so largely, was in personal peril; yet he stood\nstill. Such contradictions are there in human nature! To say truth, O\nreader, he was not entirely recovered from the picture of the Christ\nbefore the Gate Beautiful as it had been given by the Egyptian; and,\nbesides that, the very calmness with which the mysterious person\nconfronted the mob held him in restraint by suggesting the possession\nof a power in reserve more than sufficient for the peril. Peace and\ngood-will, and love and non-resistance, had been the burden of the\nNazarene\u2019s teaching; would he put his preaching into practice? He was\nmaster of life; he could restore it when lost; he could take it at\npleasure. What use would he make of the power now? Defend himself? And\nhow? A word\u2014a breath\u2014a thought were sufficient. That there would be\nsome signal exhibition of astonishing force beyond the natural Ben-Hur\nbelieved, and in that faith waited. And in all this he was still\nmeasuring the Nazarene by himself\u2014by the human standard.\n\nPresently the clear voice of the Christ arose.\n\n\u201cWhom seek ye?\u201d\n\n\u201cJesus of Nazareth,\u201d the priest replied.\n\n\u201cI am he.\u201d\n\nAt these simplest of words, spoken without passion or alarm, the\nassailants fell back several steps, the timid among them cowering to\nthe ground; and they might have let him alone and gone away had not\nJudas walked over to him.\n\n\u201cHail, master!\u201d\n\nWith this friendly speech, he kissed him.\n\n\u201cJudas,\u201d said the Nazarene, mildly, \u201cbetrayest thou the Son of man with\na kiss? Wherefore art thou come?\u201d\n\nReceiving no reply, the Master spoke to the crowd again.\n\n\u201cWhom seek ye?\u201d\n\n\u201cJesus of Nazareth.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have told you that I am he. If, therefore, you seek me, let these go\ntheir way.\u201d\n\nAt these words of entreaty the rabbis advanced upon him; and, seeing\ntheir intent, some of the disciples for whom he interceded drew nearer;\none of them cut off a man\u2019s ear, but without saving the Master from\nbeing taken. And yet Ben-Hur stood still! Nay, while the officers were\nmaking ready with their ropes the Nazarene was doing his greatest\ncharity\u2014not the greatest in deed, but the very greatest in illustration\nof his forbearance, so far surpassing that of men.\n\n\u201cSuffer ye thus far,\u201d he said to the wounded man, and healed him with a\ntouch.\n\nBoth friends and enemies were confounded\u2014one side that he could do such\na thing, the other that he would do it under the circumstances.\n\n\u201cSurely he will not allow them to bind him!\u201d\n\nThus thought Ben-Hur.\n\n\u201cPut up thy sword into the sheath; the cup which my Father hath given\nme, shall I not drink it?\u201d From the offending follower, the Nazarene\nturned to his captors. \u201cAre you come out as against a thief, with\nswords and staves to take me? I was daily with you in the Temple, and\nyou took me not; but this is your hour, and the power of darkness.\u201d\n\nThe posse plucked up courage and closed about him; and when Ben-Hur\nlooked for the faithful they were gone\u2014not one of them remained.\n\nThe crowd about the deserted man seemed very busy with tongue, hand,\nand foot. Over their heads, between the torch-sticks, through the\nsmoke, sometimes in openings between the restless men, Ben-Hur caught\nmomentary glimpses of the prisoner. Never had anything struck him as so\npiteous, so unfriended, so forsaken! Yet, he thought, the man could\nhave defended himself\u2014he could have slain his enemies with a breath,\nbut he would not. What was the cup his father had given him to drink?\nAnd who was the father to be so obeyed? Mystery upon mystery\u2014not one,\nbut many.\n\nDirectly the mob started in return to the city, the soldiers in the\nlead. Ben-Hur became anxious; he was not satisfied with himself. Where\nthe torches were in the midst of the rabble he knew the Nazarene was to\nbe found. Suddenly he resolved to see him again. He would ask him one\nquestion.\n\nTaking off his long outer garment and the handkerchief from his head,\nhe threw them upon the orchard wall, and started after the posse, which\nhe boldly joined. Through the stragglers he made way, and by littles at\nlength reached the man who carried the ends of the rope with which the\nprisoner was bound.\n\nThe Nazarene was walking slowly, his head down, his hands bound behind\nhim; the hair fell thickly over his face, and he stooped more than\nusual; apparently he was oblivious to all going on around him. In\nadvance a few steps were priests and elders talking and occasionally\nlooking back. When, at length, they were all near the bridge in the\ngorge, Ben-Hur took the rope from the servant who had it, and stepped\npast him.\n\n\u201cMaster, master!\u201d he said, hurriedly, speaking close to the Nazarene\u2019s\near. \u201cDost thou hear, master? A word\u2014one word. Tell me\u2014\u201d\n\nThe fellow from whom he had taken the rope now claimed it.\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d Ben-Hur continued, \u201cgoest thou with these of thine own\naccord?\u201d\n\nThe people were come up now, and in his own ears asking angrily, \u201cWho\nart thou, man?\u201d\n\n\u201cO master,\u201d Ben-Hur made haste to say, his voice sharp with anxiety, \u201cI\nam thy friend and lover. Tell me, I pray thee, if I bring rescue, wilt\nthou accept it?\u201d\n\nThe Nazarene never so much as looked up or allowed the slightest sign\nof recognition; yet the something which when we are suffering is always\ntelling it to such as look at us, though they be strangers, failed not\nnow. \u201cLet him alone,\u201d it seemed to say; \u201che has been abandoned by his\nfriends; the world has denied him; in bitterness of spirit, he has\ntaken farewell of men; he is going he knows not where, and he cares\nnot. Let him alone.\u201d\n\nAnd to that Ben-Hur was now driven. A dozen hands were upon him, and\nfrom all sides there was shouting, \u201cHe is one of them. Bring him along;\nclub him\u2014kill him!\u201d\n\nWith a gust of passion which gave him many times his ordinary force,\nBen-Hur raised himself, turned once about with arms outstretched, shook\nthe hands off, and rushed through the circle which was fast hemming him\nin. The hands snatching at him as he passed tore his garments from his\nback, so he ran off the road naked; and the gorge, in keeping of the\nfriendly darkness, darker there than elsewhere, received him safe.\n\nReclaiming his handkerchief and outer garments from the orchard wall,\nhe followed back to the city gate; thence he went to the khan, and on\nthe good horse rode to the tents of his people out by the Tombs of the\nKings.\n\nAs he rode, he promised himself to see the Nazarene on the\nmorrow\u2014promised it, not knowing that the unfriended man was taken\nstraightway to the house of Hannas to be tried that night.\n\nThe heart the young man carried to his couch beat so heavily he could\nnot sleep; for now clearly his renewed Judean kingdom resolved itself\ninto what it was\u2014only a dream. It is bad enough to see our castles\noverthrown one after another with an interval between in which to\nrecover from the shock, or at least let the echoes of the fall die\naway; but when they go altogether\u2014go as ships sink, as houses tumble in\nearthquakes\u2014the spirits which endure it calmly are made of stuffs\nsterner than common, and Ben-Hur\u2019s was not of them. Through vistas in\nthe future, he began to catch glimpses of a life serenely beautiful,\nwith a home instead of a palace of state, and Esther its mistress.\nAgain and again through the leaden-footed hours of the night he saw the\nvilla by Misenum, and with his little countrywoman strolled through the\ngarden, and rested in the panelled atrium; overhead the Neapolitan sky,\nat their feet the sunniest of sun-lands and the bluest of bays.\n\nIn plainest speech, he was entering upon a crisis with which to-morrow\nand the Nazarene will have everything to do.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nNext morning, about the second hour, two men rode full speed to the\ndoors of Ben-Hur\u2019s tents, and dismounting, asked to see him. He was not\nyet risen, but gave directions for their admission.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, brethren,\u201d he said, for they were of his Galileans, and\ntrusted officers. \u201cWill you be seated?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d the senior replied, bluntly, \u201cto sit and be at ease is to let\nthe Nazarene die. Rise, son of Judah, and go with us. The judgment has\nbeen given. The tree of the cross is already at Golgotha.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur stared at them.\n\n\u201cThe cross!\u201d was all he could for the moment say.\n\n\u201cThey took him last night, and tried him,\u201d the man continued. \u201cAt dawn\nthey led him before Pilate. Twice the Roman denied his guilt; twice he\nrefused to give him over. At last he washed his hands, and said, \u2018Be it\nupon you then;\u2019 and they answered\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWho answered?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey\u2014the priests and people\u2014\u2018His blood be upon us and our children.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHoly father Abraham!\u201d cried Ben-Hur; \u201ca Roman kinder to an Israelite\nthan his own kin! And if\u2014ah, if he should indeed be the son of God,\nwhat shall ever wash his blood from their children? It must not be\u2014\u2019tis\ntime to fight!\u201d\n\nHis face brightened with resolution, and he clapped his hands.\n\n\u201cThe horses\u2014and quickly!\u201d he said to the Arab who answered the signal.\n\u201cAnd bid Amrah send me fresh garments, and bring my sword! It is time\nto die for Israel, my friends. Tarry without till I come.\u201d\n\nHe ate a crust, drank a cup of wine, and was soon upon the road.\n\n\u201cWhither would you go first?\u201d asked the Galilean.\n\n\u201cTo collect the legions.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d the man replied, throwing up his hands.\n\n\u201cWhy alas?\u201d\n\n\u201cMaster\u201d\u2014the man spoke with shame\u2014\u201cmaster, I and my friend here are all\nthat are faithful. The rest do follow the priests.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeeking what?\u201d and Ben-Hur drew rein.\n\n\u201cTo kill him.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot the Nazarene?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have said it.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur looked slowly from one man to the other. He was hearing again\nthe question of the night before: \u201cThe cup my Father hath given me,\nshall I not drink it?\u201d In the ear of the Nazarene he was putting his\nown question, \u201cIf I bring thee rescue, wilt thou accept it?\u201d He was\nsaying to himself, \u201cThis death may not be averted. The man has been\ntravelling towards it with full knowledge from the day he began his\nmission: it is imposed by a will higher than his; whose but the Lord\u2019s!\nIf he is consenting, if he goes to it voluntarily, what shall another\ndo?\u201d Nor less did Ben-Hur see the failure of the scheme he had built\nupon the fidelity of the Galileans; their desertion, in fact, left\nnothing more of it. But how singular it should happen that morning of\nall others! A dread seized him. It was possible his scheming, and\nlabor, and expenditure of treasure might have been but blasphemous\ncontention with God. When he picked up the reins and said, \u201cLet us go,\nbrethren,\u201d all before him was uncertainty. The faculty of resolving\nquickly, without which one cannot be a hero in the midst of stirring\nscenes, was numb within him.\n\n\u201cLet us go, brethren; let us to Golgotha.\u201d\n\nThey passed through excited crowds of people going south, like\nthemselves. All the country north of the city seemed aroused and in\nmotion.\n\nHearing that the procession with the condemned might be met with\nsomewhere near the great white towers left by Herod, the three friends\nrode thither, passing round southeast of Akra. In the valley below the\nPool of Hezekiah, passage-way against the multitude became impossible,\nand they were compelled to dismount, and take shelter behind the corner\nof a house and wait.\n\nThe waiting was as if they were on a river bank, watching a flood go\nby, for such the people seemed.\n\nThere are certain chapters in the First Book of this story which were\nwritten to give the reader an idea of the composition of the Jewish\nnationality as it was in the time of Christ. They were also written in\nanticipation of this hour and scene; so that he who has read them with\nattention can now see all Ben-Hur saw of the going to the crucifixion\u2014a\nrare and wonderful sight!\n\nHalf an hour\u2014an hour\u2014the flood surged by Ben-Hur and his companions,\nwithin arm\u2019s reach, incessant, undiminished. At the end of that time he\ncould have said, \u201cI have seen all the castes of Jerusalem, all the\nsects of Judea, all the tribes of Israel, and all the nationalities of\nearth represented by them.\u201d The Libyan Jew went by, and the Jew of\nEgypt, and the Jew from the Rhine; in short, Jews from all East\ncountries and all West countries, and all islands within commercial\nconnection; they went by on foot, on horseback, on camels, in litters\nand chariots, and with an infinite variety of costumes, yet with the\nsame marvellous similitude of features which to-day particularizes the\nchildren of Israel, tried as they have been by climates and modes of\nlife; they went by speaking all known tongues, for by that means only\nwere they distinguishable group from group; they went by in\nhaste\u2014eager, anxious, crowding\u2014all to behold one poor Nazarene die, a\nfelon between felons.\n\nThese were the many, but they were not all.\n\nBorne along with the stream were thousands not Jews\u2014thousands hating\nand despising them\u2014Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Syrians, Africans, Egyptians,\nEasterns. So that, studying the mass, it seemed the whole world was to\nbe represented, and, in that sense, present at the crucifixion.\n\nThe going was singularly quiet. A hoof-stroke upon a rock, the glide\nand rattle of revolving wheels, voices in conversation, and now and\nthen a calling voice, were all the sounds heard above the rustle of the\nmighty movement. Yet was there upon every countenance the look with\nwhich men make haste to see some dreadful sight, some sudden wreck, or\nruin, or calamity of war. And by such signs Ben-Hur judged that these\nwere the strangers in the city come up to the Passover, who had had no\npart in the trial of the Nazarene, and might be his friends.\n\nAt length, from the direction of the great towers, Ben-Hur heard, at\nfirst faint in the distance, a shouting of many men.\n\n\u201cHark! they are coming now,\u201d said one of his friends.\n\nThe people in the street halted to hear; but as the cry rang on over\ntheir heads, they looked at each other, and in shuddering silence moved\nalong.\n\nThe shouting drew nearer each moment; and the air was already full of\nit and trembling, when Ben-Hur saw the servants of Simonides coming\nwith their master in his chair, and Esther walking by his side; a\ncovered litter was next behind them.\n\n\u201cPeace to you, O Simonides\u2014and to you, Esther,\u201d said Ben-Hur, meeting\nthem. \u201cIf you are for Golgotha, stay until the procession passes; I\nwill then go with you. There is room to turn in by the house here.\u201d\n\nThe merchant\u2019s large head rested heavily upon his breast; rousing\nhimself, he answered, \u201cSpeak to Balthasar; his pleasure will be mine.\nHe is in the litter.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur hastened to draw aside the curtain. The Egyptian was lying\nwithin, his wan face so pinched as to appear like a dead man\u2019s. The\nproposal was submitted to him.\n\n\u201cCan we see him?\u201d he inquired, faintly.\n\n\u201cThe Nazarene? yes; he must pass within a few feet of us.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Lord!\u201d the old man cried, fervently. \u201cOnce more, once more! Oh,\nit is a dreadful day for the world!\u201d\n\nShortly the whole party were in waiting under shelter of the house.\nThey said but little, afraid, probably, to trust their thoughts to each\nother; everything was uncertain, and nothing so much so as opinions.\nBalthasar drew himself feebly from the litter, and stood supported by a\nservant; Esther and Ben-Hur kept Simonides company.\n\nMeantime the flood poured along, if anything, more densely than before;\nand the shouting came nearer, shrill up in the air, hoarse along the\nearth, and cruel. At last the procession was up.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d said Ben-Hur, bitterly; \u201cthat which cometh now is Jerusalem.\u201d\n\nThe advance was in possession of an army of boys, hooting and\nscreaming, \u201cThe King of the Jews! Room, room for the King of the Jews!\u201d\n\nSimonides watched them as they whirled and danced along, like a cloud\nof summer insects, and said, gravely, \u201cWhen these come to their\ninheritance, son of Hur, alas for the city of Solomon!\u201d\n\nA band of legionaries fully armed followed next, marching in sturdy\nindifference, the glory of burnished brass about them the while.\n\nThen came the NAZARENE!\n\nHe was nearly dead. Every few steps he staggered as if he would fall. A\nstained gown badly torn hung from his shoulders over a seamless\nundertunic. His bare feet left red splotches upon the stones. An\ninscription on a board was tied to his neck. A crown of thorns had been\ncrushed hard down upon his head, making cruel wounds from which streams\nof blood, now dry and blackened, had run over his face and neck. The\nlong hair, tangled in the thorns, was clotted thick. The skin, where it\ncould be seen, was ghastly white. His hands were tied before him. Back\nsomewhere in the city he had fallen exhausted under the transverse beam\nof his cross, which, as a condemned person, custom required him to bear\nto the place of execution; now a countryman carried the burden in his\nstead. Four soldiers went with him as a guard against the mob, who\nsometimes, nevertheless, broke through, and struck him with sticks, and\nspit upon him. Yet no sound escaped him, neither remonstrance nor\ngroan; nor did he look up until he was nearly in front of the house\nsheltering Ben-Hur and his friends, all of whom were moved with quick\ncompassion. Esther clung to her father; and he, strong of will as he\nwas, trembled. Balthasar fell down speechless. Even Ben-Hur cried out,\n\u201cO my God! my God!\u201d Then, as if he divined their feelings or heard the\nexclamation, the Nazarene turned his wan face towards the party, and\nlooked at them each one, so they carried the look in memory through\nlife. They could see he was thinking of them, not himself, and the\ndying eyes gave them the blessing he was not permitted to speak.\n\n\u201cWhere are thy legions, son of Hur?\u201d asked Simonides, aroused.\n\n\u201cHannas can tell thee better than I.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, faithless?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll but these two.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen all is lost, and this good man must die!\u201d\n\nThe face of the merchant knit convulsively as he spoke, and his head\nsank upon his breast. He had borne his part in Ben-Hur\u2019s labors well,\nand he had been inspired by the same hopes, now blown out never to be\nrekindled.\n\nTwo other men succeeded the Nazarene bearing cross-beams.\n\n\u201cWho are these?\u201d Ben-Hur asked of the Galileans.\n\n\u201cThieves appointed to die with the Nazarene,\u201d they replied.\n\nNext in the procession stalked a mitred figure clad all in the golden\nvestments of the high-priest. Policemen from the Temple curtained him\nround about; and after him, in order, strode the sanhedrim, and a long\narray of priests, the latter in their plain white garments, overwrapped\nby abnets of many folds and gorgeous colors.\n\n\u201cThe son-in-law of Hannas,\u201d said Ben-Hur, in a low voice.\n\n\u201cCaiaphas! I have seen him,\u201d Simonides replied, adding, after a pause\nduring which he thoughtfully watched the haughty pontiff, \u201cAnd now am I\nconvinced. With such assurance as proceeds from clear enlightenment of\nthe spirit\u2014with absolute assurance\u2014now know I that he who first goes\nyonder with the inscription about his neck is what the inscription\nproclaims him\u2014KING OF THE JEWS. A common man, an impostor, a felon, was\nnever thus waited upon. For look! Here are the nations\u2014Jerusalem,\nIsrael. Here is the ephod, here the blue robe with its fringe, and\npurple pomegranates, and golden bells, not seen in the street since the\nday Jaddua went out to meet the Macedonian\u2014proofs all that this\nNazarene is King. Would I could rise and go after him!\u201d\n\nBen-Hur listened surprised; and directly, as if himself awakening to\nhis unusual display of feeling, Simonides said, impatiently,\n\n\u201cSpeak to Balthasar, I pray you, and let us begone. The vomit of\nJerusalem is coming.\u201d\n\nThen Esther spoke.\n\n\u201cI see some women there, and they are weeping. Who are they?\u201d\n\nFollowing the pointing of her hand, the party beheld four women in\ntears; one of them leaned upon the arm of a man of aspect not unlike\nthe Nazarene\u2019s. Presently Ben-Hur answered,\n\n\u201cThe man is the disciple whom the Nazarene loves the best of all; she\nwho leans upon his arm is Mary, the Master\u2019s mother; the others are\nfriendly women of Galilee.\u201d\n\nEsther pursued the mourners with glistening eyes until the multitude\nreceived them out of sight.\n\nIt may be the reader will fancy the foregoing snatches of conversation\nwere had in quiet; but it was not so. The talking was, for the most\npart, like that indulged by people at the seaside under the sound of\nthe surf; for to nothing else can the clamor of this division of the\nmob be so well likened.\n\nThe demonstration was the forerunner of those in which, scarce thirty\nyears later, under rule of the factions, the Holy City was torn to\npieces; it was quite as great in numbers, as fanatical and\nbloodthirsty; boiled and raved, and had in it exactly the same\nelements\u2014servants, camel-drivers, marketmen, gate-keepers, gardeners,\ndealers in fruits and wines, proselytes, and foreigners not proselytes,\nwatchmen and menials from the Temple, thieves, robbers, and the myriad\nnot assignable to any class, but who, on such occasions as this,\nappeared no one could say whence, hungry and smelling of caves and old\ntombs\u2014bareheaded wretches with naked arms and legs, hair and beard in\nuncombed mats, and each with one garment the color of clay; beasts with\nabysmal mouths, in outcry effective as lions calling each other across\ndesert spaces. Some of them had swords; a greater number flourished\nspears and javelins; though the weapons of the many were staves and\nknotted clubs, and slings, for which latter selected stones were stored\nin scrips, and sometimes in sacks improvised from the foreskirts of\ntheir dirty tunics. Among the mass here and there appeared persons of\nhigh degree\u2014scribes, elders, rabbis, Pharisees with broad fringing,\nSadducees in fine cloaks\u2014serving for the time as prompters and\ndirectors. If a throat tired of one cry, they invented another for it;\nif brassy lungs showed signs of collapse, they set them going again;\nand yet the clamor, loud and continuous as it was, could have been\nreduced to a few syllables\u2014King of the Jews! Room for the King of the\nJews!\u2014Defiler of the Temple!\u2014Blasphemer of God!\u2014Crucify him, crucify\nhim! And of these cries the last one seemed in greatest favor, because,\ndoubtless, it was more directly expressive of the wish of the mob, and\nhelped to better articulate its hatred of the Nazarene.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said Simonides, when Balthasar was ready to proceed\u2014\u201ccome, let\nus forward.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur did not hear the call. The appearance of the part of the\nprocession then passing, its brutality and hunger for life, were\nreminding him of the Nazarene\u2014his gentleness, and the many charities he\nhad seen him do for suffering men. Suggestions beget suggestions; so he\nremembered suddenly his own great indebtedness to the man; the time he\nhimself was in the hands of a Roman guard going, as was supposed, to a\ndeath as certain and almost as terrible as this one of the cross; the\ncooling drink he had at the well by Nazareth, and the divine expression\nof the face of him who gave it; the later goodness, the miracle of\nPalm-Sunday; and with these recollections, the thought of his present\npowerlessness to give back help for help or make return in kind stung\nhim keenly, and he accused himself. He had not done all he might; he\ncould have watched with the Galileans, and kept them true and ready;\nand this\u2014ah! this was the moment to strike! A blow well given now would\nnot merely disperse the mob and set the Nazarene free; it would be a\ntrumpet-call to Israel, and precipitate the long-dreamt-of war for\nfreedom. The opportunity was going; the minutes were bearing it away;\nand if lost! God of Abraham! Was there nothing to be done\u2014nothing?\n\nThat instant a party of Galileans caught his eye. He rushed through the\npress and overtook them.\n\n\u201cFollow me,\u201d he said. \u201cI would have speech with you.\u201d\n\nThe men obeyed him, and when they were under shelter of the house, he\nspoke again:\n\n\u201cYou are of those who took my swords, and agreed with me to strike for\nfreedom and the King who was coming. You have the swords now, and now\nis the time to strike with them. Go, look everywhere, and find our\nbrethren, and tell them to meet me at the tree of the cross making\nready for the Nazarene. Haste all of you! Nay, stand not so! The\nNazarene is the King, and freedom dies with him.\u201d\n\nThey looked at him respectfully, but did not move.\n\n\u201cHear you?\u201d he asked.\n\nThen one of them replied,\n\n\u201cSon of Judah\u201d\u2014by that name they knew him\u2014\u201cson of Judah, it is you who\nare deceived, not we or our brethren who have your swords. The Nazarene\nis not the King; neither has he the spirit of a king. We were with him\nwhen he came into Jerusalem; we saw him in the Temple; he failed\nhimself, and us, and Israel; at the Gate Beautiful he turned his back\nupon God and refused the throne of David. He is not King, and Galilee\nis not with him. He shall die the death. But hear you, son of Judah. We\nhave your swords, and we are ready now to draw them and strike for\nfreedom; and so is Galilee. Be it for freedom, O son of Judah, for\nfreedom! and we will meet you at the tree of the cross.\u201d\n\nThe sovereign moment of his life was upon Ben-Hur. Could he have taken\nthe offer and said the word, history might have been other than it is;\nbut then it would have been history ordered by men, not God\u2014something\nthat never was, and never will be. A confusion fell upon him; he knew\nnot how, though afterwards he attributed it to the Nazarene; for when\nthe Nazarene was risen, he understood the death was necessary to faith\nin the resurrection, without which Christianity would be an empty husk.\nThe confusion, as has been said, left him without the faculty of\ndecision; he stood helpless\u2014wordless even. Covering his face with his\nhand, he shook with the conflict between his wish, which was what he\nwould have ordered, and the power that was upon him.\n\n\u201cCome; we are waiting for you,\u201d said Simonides, the fourth time.\n\nThereupon he walked mechanically after the chair and the litter. Esther\nwalked with him. Like Balthasar and his friends, the Wise Men, the day\nthey went to the meeting in the desert, he was being led along the way.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nWhen the party\u2014Balthasar, Simonides, Ben-Hur, Esther, and the two\nfaithful Galileans\u2014reached the place of crucifixion, Ben-Hur was in\nadvance leading them. How they had been able to make way through the\ngreat press of excited people, he never knew; no more did he know the\nroad by which they came or the time it took them to come. He had walked\nin total unconsciousness, neither hearing nor seeing anybody or\nanything, and without a thought of where he was going, or the\nghostliest semblance of a purpose in his mind. In such condition a\nlittle child could have done as much as he to prevent the awful crime\nhe was about to witness. The intentions of God are always strange to\nus; but not more so than the means by which they are wrought out, and\nat last made plain to our belief.\n\nBen-Hur came to a stop; those following him also stopped. As a curtain\nrises before an audience, the spell holding him in its sleep-awake\nrose, and he saw with a clear understanding.\n\nThere was a space upon the top of a low knoll rounded like a skull, and\ndry, dusty, and without vegetation, except some scrubby hyssop. The\nboundary of the space was a living wall of men, with men behind\nstruggling, some to look over, others to look through it. An inner wall\nof Roman soldiery held the dense outer wall rigidly to its place. A\ncenturion kept eye upon the soldiers. Up to the very line so vigilantly\nguarded Ben-Hur had been led; at the line he now stood, his face to the\nnorthwest. The knoll was the old Aramaic Golgotha\u2014in Latin, Calvaria;\nanglicized, Calvary; translated, The Skull.\n\nOn its slopes, in the low places, on the swells and higher hills, the\nearth sparkled with a strange enamelling. Look where he would outside\nthe walled space, he saw no patch of brown soil, no rock, no green\nthing; he saw only thousands of eyes in ruddy faces; off a little way\nin the perspective only ruddy faces without eyes; off a little farther\nonly a broad, broad circle, which the nearer view instructed him was\nalso of faces. And this was the ensemble of three millions of people;\nunder it three millions of hearts throbbing with passionate interest in\nwhat was taking place upon the knoll; indifferent as to the thieves,\ncaring only for the Nazarene, and for him only as he was an object of\nhate or fear or curiosity\u2014he who loved them all, and was about to die\nfor them.\n\nIn the spectacle of a great assemblage of people there are always the\nbewilderment and fascination one feels while looking over a stretch of\nsea in agitation, and never had this one been exceeded; yet Ben-Hur\ngave it but a passing glance, for that which was going on in the space\ndescribed would permit no division of his interest.\n\nUp on the knoll so high as to be above the living wall, and visible\nover the heads of an attending company of notables, conspicuous because\nof his mitre and vestments and his haughty air, stood the high priest.\nUp the knoll still higher, up quite to the round summit, so as to be\nseen far and near, was the Nazarene, stooped and suffering, but silent.\nThe wit among the guard had complemented the crown upon his head by\nputting a reed in his hand for a sceptre. Clamors blew upon him like\nblasts\u2014laughter\u2014execrations\u2014sometimes both together indistinguishably.\nA man\u2014ONLY a man, O reader, would have charged the blasts with the\nremainder of his love for the race, and let it go forever.\n\nAll the eyes then looking were fixed upon the Nazarene. It may have\nbeen pity with which he was moved; whatever the cause, Ben-Hur was\nconscious of a change in his feelings. A conception of something better\nthan the best of this life\u2014something so much better that it could serve\na weak man with strength to endure agonies of spirit as well as of\nbody; something to make death welcome\u2014perhaps another life purer than\nthis one\u2014perhaps the spirit-life which Balthasar held to so fast, began\nto dawn upon his mind clearer and clearer, bringing to him a certain\nsense that, after all, the mission of the Nazarene was that of guide\nacross the boundary for such as loved him; across the boundary to where\nhis kingdom was set up and waiting for him. Then, as something borne\nthrough the air out of the almost forgotten, he heard again, or seemed\nto hear, the saying of the Nazarene,\n\n\u201cI AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE.\u201d\n\nAnd the words repeated themselves over and over, and took form, and the\ndawn touched them with its light, and filled them with a new meaning.\nAnd as men repeat a question to grasp and fix the meaning, he asked,\ngazing at the figure on the hill fainting under its crown, Who the\nResurrection? and who the Life?\n\n\u201cI AM,\u201d\n\nthe figure seemed to say\u2014and say it for him; for instantly he was\nsensible of a peace such as he had never known\u2014the peace which is the\nend of doubt and mystery, and the beginning of faith and love and clear\nunderstanding.\n\nFrom this dreamy state Ben-Hur was aroused by the sound of hammering.\nOn the summit of the knoll he observed then what had escaped him\nbefore\u2014some soldiers and workmen preparing the crosses. The holes for\nplanting the trees were ready, and now the transverse beams were being\nfitted to their places.\n\n\u201cBid the men make haste,\u201d said the high-priest to the centurion.\n\u201cThese\u201d\u2014and he pointed to the Nazarene\u2014\u201cmust be dead by the going-down\nof the sun, and buried that the land may not be defiled. Such is the\nLaw.\u201d\n\nWith a better mind, a soldier went to the Nazarene and offered him\nsomething to drink, but he refused the cup. Then another went to him\nand took from his neck the board with the inscription upon it, which he\nnailed to the tree of the cross\u2014and the preparation was complete.\n\n\u201cThe crosses are ready,\u201d said the centurion to the pontiff, who\nreceived the report with a wave of the hand and the reply,\n\n\u201cLet the blasphemer go first. The Son of God should be able to save\nhimself. We will see.\u201d\n\nThe people to whom the preparation in its several stages was visible,\nand who to this time had assailed the hill with incessant cries of\nimpatience, permitted a lull which directly became a universal hush.\nThe part of the infliction most shocking, at least to the thought, was\nreached\u2014the men were to be nailed to their crosses. When for that\npurpose the soldiers laid their hands upon the Nazarene first, a\nshudder passed through the great concourse; the most brutalized shrank\nwith dread. Afterwards there were those who said the air suddenly\nchilled and made them shiver.\n\n\u201cHow very still it is!\u201d Esther said, as she put her arm about her\nfather\u2019s neck.\n\nAnd remembering the torture he himself had suffered, he drew her face\ndown upon his breast, and sat trembling.\n\n\u201cAvoid it, Esther, avoid it!\u201d he said. \u201cI know not but all who stand\nand see it\u2014the innocent as well as the guilty\u2014may be cursed from this\nhour.\u201d\n\nBalthasar sank upon his knees.\n\n\u201cSon of Hur,\u201d said Simonides, with increasing excitement\u2014\u201cson of Hur,\nif Jehovah stretch not forth his hand, and quickly, Israel is lost\u2014and\nwe are lost.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur answered, calmly, \u201cI have been in a dream, Simonides, and heard\nin it why all this should be, and why it should go on. It is the will\nof the Nazarene\u2014it is God\u2019s will. Let us do as the Egyptian here\u2014let us\nhold our peace and pray.\u201d\n\nAs he looked up on the knoll again, the words were wafted to him\nthrough the awful stillness\u2014\n\n\u201cI AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE.\u201d\n\nHe bowed reverently as to a person speaking.\n\nUp on the summit meantime the work went on. The guard took the\nNazarene\u2019s clothes from him; so that he stood before the millions\nnaked. The stripes of the scourging he had received in the early\nmorning were still bloody upon his back; yet he was laid pitilessly\ndown, and stretched upon the cross\u2014first, the arms upon the transverse\nbeam; the spikes were sharp\u2014a few blows, and they were driven through\nthe tender palms; next, they drew his knees up until the soles of the\nfeet rested flat upon the tree; then they placed one foot upon the\nother, and one spike fixed both of them fast. The dulled sound of the\nhammering was heard outside the guarded space; and such as could not\nhear, yet saw the hammer as it fell, shivered with fear. And withal not\na groan, or cry, or word of remonstrance from the sufferer: nothing at\nwhich an enemy could laugh; nothing a lover could regret.\n\n\u201cWhich way wilt thou have him faced?\u201d asked a soldier, bluntly.\n\n\u201cTowards the Temple,\u201d the pontiff replied. \u201cIn dying I would have him\nsee the holy house hath not suffered by him.\u201d\n\nThe workmen put their hands to the cross, and carried it, burden and\nall, to the place of planting. At a word, they dropped the tree into\nthe hole; and the body of the Nazarene also dropped heavily, and hung\nby the bleeding hands. Still no cry of pain\u2014only the exclamation\ndivinest of all recorded exclamations,\n\n\u201cFather, forgive them, for they know not what they do.\u201d\n\nThe cross, reared now above all other objects, and standing singly out\nagainst the sky, was greeted with a burst of delight; and all who could\nsee and read the writing upon the board over the Nazarene\u2019s head made\nhaste to decipher it. Soon as read, the legend was adopted by them and\ncommunicated, and presently the whole mighty concourse was ringing the\nsalutation from side to side, and repeating it with laughter and\ngroans,\n\n\u201cKing of the Jews! Hail, King of the Jews!\u201d\n\nThe pontiff, with a clearer idea of the import of the inscription,\nprotested against it, but in vain; so the titled King, looking from the\nknoll with dying eyes, must have had the city of his fathers at rest\nbelow him\u2014she who had so ignominiously cast him out.\n\nThe sun was rising rapidly to noon; the hills bared their brown breasts\nlovingly to it; the more distant mountains rejoiced in the purple with\nwhich it so regally dressed them. In the city, the temples, palaces,\ntowers, pinnacles, and all points of beauty and prominence seemed to\nlift themselves into the unrivalled brilliance, as if they knew the\npride they were giving the many who from time to time turned to look at\nthem. Suddenly a dimness began to fill the sky and cover the earth\u2014at\nfirst no more than a scarce perceptible fading of the day; a twilight\nout of time; an evening gliding in upon the splendors of noon. But it\ndeepened, and directly drew attention; whereat the noise of the\nshouting and laughter fell off, and men, doubting their senses, gazed\nat each other curiously: then they looked to the sun again; then at the\nmountains, getting farther away; at the sky and the near landscape,\nsinking in shadow; at the hill upon which the tragedy was enacting; and\nfrom all these they gazed at each other again, and turned pale, and\nheld their peace.\n\n\u201cIt is only a mist or passing cloud,\u201d Simonides said soothingly to\nEsther, who was alarmed. \u201cIt will brighten presently.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur did not think so.\n\n\u201cIt is not a mist or a cloud,\u201d he said. \u201cThe spirits who live in the\nair\u2014the prophets and saints\u2014are at work in mercy to themselves and\nnature. I say to you, O Simonides, truly as God lives, he who hangs\nyonder is the Son of God.\u201d\n\nAnd leaving Simonides lost in wonder at such a speech from him, he went\nwhere Balthasar was kneeling near by, and laid his hand upon the good\nman\u2019s shoulder.\n\n\u201cO wise Egyptian, hearken! Thou alone wert right\u2014the Nazarene is indeed\nthe Son of God.\u201d\n\nBalthasar drew him down to him, and replied, feebly, \u201cI saw him a child\nin the manger where he was first laid; it is not strange that I knew\nhim sooner than thou; but oh that I should live to see this day! Would\nI had died with my brethren! Happy Melchior! Happy, happy Gaspar!\u201d\n\n\u201cComfort thee!\u201d said Ben-Hur. \u201cDoubtless they too are here.\u201d\n\nThe dimness went on deepening into obscurity, and that into positive\ndarkness, but without deterring the bolder spirits upon the knoll. One\nafter the other the thieves were raised on their crosses, and the\ncrosses planted. The guard was then withdrawn, and the people set free\nclosed in upon the height, and surged up it, like a converging wave. A\nman might take a look, when a new-comer would push him on, and take his\nplace, to be in turn pushed on\u2014and there were laughter and ribaldry and\nrevilements, all for the Nazarene.\n\n\u201cHa, ha! If thou be King of the Jews, save thyself,\u201d a soldier shouted.\n\n\u201cAy,\u201d said a priest, \u201cif he will come down to us now, we will believe\nin him.\u201d\n\nOthers wagged their heads wisely, saying, \u201cHe would destroy the Temple,\nand rebuild it in three days, but cannot save himself.\u201d\n\nOthers still: \u201cHe called himself the Son of God; let us see if God will\nhave him.\u201d\n\nWhat all there is in prejudice no one has ever said. The Nazarene had\nnever harmed the people; far the greater part of them had never seen\nhim except in this his hour of calamity; yet\u2014singular contrariety!\u2014they\nloaded him with their curses, and gave their sympathy to the thieves.\n\nThe supernatural night, dropped thus from the heavens, affected Esther\nas it began to affect thousands of others braver and stronger.\n\n\u201cLet us go home,\u201d she prayed\u2014twice, three times\u2014saying, \u201cIt is the\nfrown of God, father. What other dreadful things may happen, who can\ntell? I am afraid.\u201d\n\nSimonides was obstinate. He said little, but was plainly under great\nexcitement. Observing, about the end of the first hour, that the\nviolence of the crowding up on the knoll was somewhat abated, at his\nsuggestion the party advanced to take position nearer the crosses.\nBen-Hur gave his arm to Balthasar; yet the Egyptian made the ascent\nwith difficulty. From their new stand, the Nazarene was imperfectly\nvisible, appearing to them not more than a dark suspended figure. They\ncould hear him, however\u2014hear his sighing, which showed an endurance or\nexhaustion greater than that of his fellow-sufferers; for they filled\nevery lull in the noises with their groans and entreaties.\n\nThe second hour after the suspension passed like the first one. To the\nNazarene they were hours of insult, provocation, and slow dying. He\nspoke but once in the time. Some women came and knelt at the foot of\nhis cross. Among them he recognized his mother with the beloved\ndisciple.\n\n\u201cWoman,\u201d he said, raising his voice, \u201cbehold thy son!\u201d And to the\ndisciple, \u201cBehold thy mother!\u201d\n\nThe third hour came, and still the people surged round the hill, held\nto it by some strange attraction, with which, in probability, the night\nin midday had much to do. They were quieter than in the preceding hour;\nyet at intervals they could be heard off in the darkness shouting to\neach other, multitude calling unto multitude. It was noticeable, also,\nthat coming now to the Nazarene, they approached his cross in silence,\ntook the look in silence, and so departed. This change extended even to\nthe guard, who so shortly before had cast lots for the clothes of the\ncrucified; they stood with their officers a little apart, more watchful\nof the one convict than of the throngs coming and going. If he but\nbreathed heavily, or tossed his head in a paroxysm of pain, they were\ninstantly on the alert. Most marvellous of all, however, was the\naltered behavior of the high-priest and his following, the wise men who\nhad assisted him in the trial in the night, and, in the victim\u2019s face,\nkept place by him with zealous approval. When the darkness began to\nfall, they began to lose their confidence. There were among them many\nlearned in astronomy, and familiar with the apparitions so terrible in\nthose days to the masses; much of the knowledge was descended to them\nfrom their fathers far back; some of it had been brought away at the\nend of the Captivity; and the necessities of the Temple service kept it\nall bright. These closed together when the sun commenced to fade before\ntheir eyes, and the mountains and hills to recede; they drew together\nin a group around their pontiff, and debated what they saw. \u201cThe moon\nis at its full,\u201d they said, with truth, \u201cand this cannot be an\neclipse.\u201d Then, as no one could answer the question common with them\nall\u2014as no one could account for the darkness, or for its occurrence at\nthat particular time, in their secret hearts they associated it with\nthe Nazarene, and yielded to an alarm which the long continuance of the\nphenomenon steadily increased. In their place behind the soldiers, they\nnoted every word and motion of the Nazarene, and hung with fear upon\nhis sighs, and talked in whispers. The man might be the Messiah, and\nthen\u2014 But they would wait and see!\n\nIn the meantime Ben-Hur was not once visited by the old spirit. The\nperfect peace abode with him. He prayed simply that the end might be\nhastened. He knew the condition of Simonides\u2019 mind\u2014that he was\nhesitating on the verge of belief. He could see the massive face\nweighed down by solemn reflection. He noticed him casting inquiring\nglances at the sun, as seeking the cause of the darkness. Nor did he\nfail to notice the solicitude with which Esther clung to him,\nsmothering her fears to accommodate his wishes.\n\n\u201cBe not afraid,\u201d he heard him say to her; \u201cbut stay and watch with me.\nThou mayst live twice the span of my life, and see nothing of human\ninterest equal to this; and there may be revelations more. Let us stay\nto the close.\u201d\n\nWhen the third hour was about half gone, some men of the rudest\nclass\u2014wretches from the tombs about the city\u2014came and stopped in front\nof the centre cross.\n\n\u201cThis is he, the new King of the Jews,\u201d said one of them.\n\nThe others cried, with laughter, \u201cHail, all hail, King of the Jews!\u201d\n\nReceiving no reply, they went closer.\n\n\u201cIf thou be King of the Jews, or Son of God, come down,\u201d they said,\nloudly.\n\nAt this, one of the thieves quit groaning, and called to the Nazarene,\n\u201cYes, if thou be Christ, save thyself and us.\u201d\n\nThe people laughed and applauded; then, while they were listening for a\nreply, the other felon was heard to say to the first one, \u201cDost thou\nnot fear God? We receive the due rewards of our deeds; but this man\nhath done nothing amiss.\u201d\n\nThe bystanders were astonished; in the midst of the hush which ensued,\nthe second felon spoke again, but this time to the Nazarene:\n\n\u201cLord,\u201d he said, \u201cremember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.\u201d\n\nSimonides gave a great start. \u201cWhen thou comest into thy kingdom!\u201d It\nwas the very point of doubt in his mind; the point he had so often\ndebated with Balthasar.\n\n\u201cDidst thou hear?\u201d said Ben-Hur to him. \u201cThe kingdom cannot be of this\nworld. Yon witness saith the King is but going to his kingdom; and, in\neffect, I heard the same in my dream.\u201d\n\n\u201cHush!\u201d said Simonides, more imperiously than ever before in speech to\nBen-Hur. \u201cHush, I pray thee! If the Nazarene should answer\u2014\u201d\n\nAnd as he spoke the Nazarene did answer, in a clear voice, full of\nconfidence:\n\n\u201cVerily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise!\u201d\n\nSimonides waited to hear if that were all; then he folded his hands and\nsaid, \u201cNo more, no more, Lord! The darkness is gone; I see with other\neyes\u2014even as Balthasar, I see with eyes of perfect faith.\u201d\n\nThe faithful servant had at last his fitting reward. His broken body\nmight never be restored; nor was there riddance of the recollection of\nhis sufferings, or recall of the years embittered by them; but suddenly\na new life was shown him, with assurance that it was for him\u2014a new life\nlying just beyond this one\u2014and its name was Paradise. There he would\nfind the Kingdom of which he had been dreaming, and the King. A perfect\npeace fell upon him.\n\nOver the way, in front of the cross, however, there were surprise and\nconsternation. The cunning casuists there put the assumption underlying\nthe question and the admission underlying the answer together. For\nsaying through the land that he was the Messiah, they had brought the\nNazarene to the cross; and, lo! on the cross, more confidently than\never, he had not only reasserted himself, but promised enjoyment of his\nParadise to a malefactor. They trembled at what they were doing. The\npontiff, with all his pride, was afraid. Where got the man his\nconfidence except from Truth? And what should the Truth be but God? A\nvery little now would put them all to flight.\n\nThe breathing of the Nazarene grew harder, his sighs became great\ngasps. Only three hours upon the cross, and he was dying!\n\nThe intelligence was carried from man to man, until every one knew it;\nand then everything hushed; the breeze faltered and died; a stifling\nvapor loaded the air; heat was superadded to darkness; nor might any\none unknowing the fact have thought that off the hill, out under the\noverhanging pall, there were three millions of people waiting\nawe-struck what should happen next\u2014they were so still!\n\nThen there went out through the gloom, over the heads of such as were\non the hill within hearing of the dying man, a cry of despair, if not\nreproach:\n\n\u201cMy God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?\u201d\n\nThe voice startled all who heard it. One it touched uncontrollably.\n\nThe soldiers in coming had brought with them a vessel of wine and\nwater, and set it down a little way from Ben-Hur. With a sponge dipped\ninto the liquor, and put on the end of a stick, they could moisten the\ntongue of a sufferer at their pleasure. Ben-Hur thought of the draught\nhe had had at the well near Nazareth; an impulse seized him; catching\nup the sponge, he dipped it into the vessel, and started for the cross.\n\n\u201cLet him be!\u201d the people in the way shouted, angrily. \u201cLet him be!\u201d\n\nWithout minding them, he ran on, and put the sponge to the Nazarene\u2019s\nlips.\n\nToo late, too late!\n\nThe face then plainly seen by Ben-Hur, bruised and black with blood and\ndust as it was, lighted nevertheless with a sudden glow; the eyes\nopened wide, and fixed upon some one visible to them alone in the far\nheavens; and there were content and relief, even triumph, in the shout\nthe victim gave.\n\n\u201cIt is finished! It is finished!\u201d\n\nSo a hero, dying in the doing a great deed, celebrates his success with\na last cheer.\n\nThe light in the eyes went out; slowly the crowned head sank upon the\nlaboring breast. Ben-Hur thought the struggle over; but the fainting\nsoul recollected itself, so that he and those around him caught the\nother and last words, spoken in a low voice, as if to one listening\nclose by:\n\n\u201cFather, into thy hands I commend my spirit.\u201d\n\nA tremor shook the tortured body; there was a scream of fiercest\nanguish, and the mission and the earthly life were over at once. The\nheart, with all its love, was broken; for of that, O reader, the man\ndied!\n\nBen-Hur went back to his friends, saying, simply, \u201cIt is over; he is\ndead.\u201d\n\nIn a space incredibly short the multitude was informed of the\ncircumstance. No one repeated it aloud; there was a murmur which spread\nfrom the knoll in every direction; a murmur that was little more than a\nwhispering, \u201cHe is dead! he is dead!\u201d and that was all. The people had\ntheir wish; the Nazarene was dead; yet they stared at each other\naghast. His blood was upon them! And while they stood staring at each\nother, the ground commenced to shake; each man took hold of his\nneighbor to support himself; in a twinkling the darkness disappeared,\nand the sun came out; and everybody, as with the same glance, beheld\nthe crosses upon the hill all reeling drunken-like in the earthquake.\nThey beheld all three of them; but the one in the centre was arbitrary;\nit alone would be seen; and for that it seemed to extend itself\nupwards, and lift its burden, and swing it to and fro higher and higher\nin the blue of the sky. And every man among them who had jeered at the\nNazarene; every one who had struck him; every one who had voted to\ncrucify him; every one who had marched in the procession from the city;\nevery one who had in his heart wished him dead, and they were as ten to\none, felt that he was in some way individually singled out from the\nmany, and that if he would live he must get away quickly as possible\nfrom that menace in the sky. They started to run; they ran with all\ntheir might; on horseback, and camels, and in chariots they ran, as\nwell as on foot; but then as if it were mad at them for what they had\ndone, and had taken up the cause of the unoffending and friendless\ndead, the earthquake pursued them, and tossed them about, and flung\nthem down, and terrified them yet more by the horrible noise of great\nrocks grinding and rending beneath them. They beat their breasts and\nshrieked with fear. His blood was upon them! The home-bred and the\nforeign, priest and layman, beggar, Sadducee, Pharisee, were overtaken\nin the race, and tumbled about indiscriminately. If they called on the\nLord, the outraged earth answered for him in fury, and dealt them all\nalike. It did not even know wherein the high-priest was better than his\nguilty brethren; overtaking him, it tripped him up also, and smirched\nthe fringing of his robe, and filled the golden bells with sand, and\nhis mouth with dust. He and his people were alike in the one thing at\nleast\u2014the blood of the Nazarene was upon them all!\n\nWhen the sunlight broke upon the crucifixion, the mother of the\nNazarene, the disciple, and the faithful women of Galilee, the\ncenturion and his soldiers, and Ben-Hur and his party, were all who\nremained upon the hill. These had not time to observe the flight of the\nmultitude; they were too loudly called upon to take care of themselves.\n\n\u201cSeat thyself here,\u201d said Ben-Hur to Esther, making a place for her at\nher father\u2019s feet. \u201cNow cover thine eyes and look not up; but put thy\ntrust in God, and the spirit of yon just man so foully slain.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Simonides, reverently, \u201clet us henceforth speak of him as\nthe Christ.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so,\u201d said Ben-Hur.\n\nPresently a wave of the earthquake struck the hill. The shrieks of the\nthieves upon the reeling crosses were terrible to hear. Though giddy\nwith the movements of the ground, Ben-Hur had time to look at\nBalthasar, and beheld him prostrate and still. He ran to him and\ncalled\u2014there was no reply. The good man was dead! Then Ben-Hur\nremembered to have heard a cry in answer, as it were, to the scream of\nthe Nazarene in his last moment; but he had not looked to see from whom\nit had proceeded; and ever after he believed the spirit of the Egyptian\naccompanied that of his Master over the boundary into the kingdom of\nParadise. The idea rested not only upon the cry heard, but upon the\nexceeding fitness of the distinction. If faith were worthy reward in\nthe person of Gaspar, and love in that of Melchior, surely he should\nhave some special meed who through a long life and so excellently\nillustrated the three virtues in combination\u2014Faith, Love, and Good\nWorks.\n\nThe servants of Balthasar had deserted their master; but when all was\nover, the two Galileans bore the old man in his litter back to the\ncity.\n\nIt was a sorrowful procession that entered the south gate of the palace\nof the Hurs about the set of sun that memorable day. About the same\nhour the body of the Christ was taken down from the cross.\n\nThe remains of Balthasar were carried to the guest-chamber. All the\nservants hastened weeping to see him; for he had the love of every\nliving thing with which he had in anywise to do; but when they beheld\nhis face, and the smile upon it, they dried their tears, saying, \u201cIt is\nwell. He is happier this evening than when he went out in the morning.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur would not trust a servant to inform Iras what had befallen her\nfather. He went himself to see her and bring her to the body. He\nimagined her grief; she would now be alone in the world; it was a time\nto forgive and pity her. He remembered he had not asked why she was not\nof the party in the morning, or where she was; he remembered he had not\nthought of her; and, from shame, he was ready to make any amends, the\nmore so as he was about to plunge her into such acute grief.\n\nHe shook the curtains of her door; and though he heard the ringing of\nthe little bells echoing within, he had no response; he called her\nname, and again he called\u2014still no answer. He drew the curtain aside\nand went into the room; she was not there. He ascended hastily to the\nroof in search of her; nor was she there. He questioned the servants;\nnone of them had seen her during the day. After a long quest everywhere\nthrough the house, Ben-Hur returned to the guest-chamber, and took the\nplace by the dead which should have been hers; and he bethought him\nthere how merciful the Christ had been to his aged servant. At the gate\nof the kingdom of Paradise happily the afflictions of this life, even\nits desertions, are left behind and forgotten by those who go in and\nrest.\n\nWhen the gloom of the burial was nigh gone, on the ninth day after the\nhealing, the law being fulfilled, Ben-Hur brought his mother and Tirzah\nhome; and from that day, in that house the most sacred names possible\nof utterance by men were always coupled worshipfully together,\n\nGOD THE FATHER AND CHRIST THE SON.\n\n\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\n\nAbout five years after the crucifixion, Esther, the wife of Ben-Hur,\nsat in her room in the beautiful villa by Misenum. It was noon, with a\nwarm Italian sun making summer for the roses and vines outside.\nEverything in the apartment was Roman, except that Esther wore the\ngarments of a Jewish matron. Tirzah and two children at play upon a\nlion skin on the floor were her companions; and one had only to observe\nhow carefully she watched them to know that the little ones were hers.\n\nTime had treated her generously. She was more than ever beautiful, and\nin becoming mistress of the villa, she had realized one of her\ncherished dreams.\n\nIn the midst of this simple, home-like scene, a servant appeared in the\ndoorway, and spoke to her.\n\n\u201cA woman in the atrium to speak with the mistress.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet her come. I will receive her here.\u201d\n\nPresently the stranger entered. At sight of her the Jewess arose, and\nwas about to speak; then she hesitated, changed color, and finally drew\nback, saying, \u201cI have known you, good woman. You are\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cI was Iras, the daughter of Balthasar.\u201d\n\nEsther conquered her surprise, and bade the servant bring the Egyptian\na seat.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Iras, coldly. \u201cI will retire directly.\u201d\n\nThe two gazed at each other. We know what Esther presented\u2014a beautiful\nwoman, a happy mother, a contented wife. On the other side, it was very\nplain that fortune had not dealt so gently with her former rival. The\ntall figure remained with some of its grace; but an evil life had\ntainted the whole person. The face was coarse; the large eyes were red\nand pursed beneath the lower lids; there was no color in her cheeks.\nThe lips were cynical and hard, and general neglect was leading rapidly\nto premature old age. Her attire was ill chosen and draggled. The mud\nof the road clung to her sandals. Iras broke the painful silence.\n\n\u201cThese are thy children?\u201d\n\nEsther looked at them, and smiled.\n\n\u201cYes. Will you not speak to them?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would scare them,\u201d Iras replied. Then she drew closer to Esther, and\nseeing her shrink, said, \u201cBe not afraid. Give thy husband a message for\nme. Tell him his enemy is dead, and that for the much misery he brought\nme I slew him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis enemy!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Messala. Further, tell thy husband that for the harm I sought to\ndo him I have been punished until even he would pity me.\u201d\n\nTears arose in Esther\u2019s eyes, and she was about to speak.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d said Iras, \u201cI do not want pity or tears. Tell him, finally, I\nhave found that to be a Roman is to be a brute. Farewell.\u201d\n\nShe moved to go. Esther followed her.\n\n\u201cStay, and see my husband. He has no feeling against you. He sought for\nyou everywhere. He will be your friend. I will be your friend. We are\nChristians.\u201d\n\nThe other was firm.\n\n\u201cNo; I am what I am of choice. It will be over shortly.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut\u201d\u2014Esther hesitated\u2014\u201chave we nothing you would wish; nothing to\u2014to\u2014\u201d\n\nThe countenance of the Egyptian softened; something like a smile played\nabout her lips. She looked at the children upon the floor.\n\n\u201cThere is something,\u201d she said.\n\nEsther followed her eyes, and with quick perception answered, \u201cIt is\nyours.\u201d\n\nIras went to them, and knelt on the lion\u2019s skin, and kissed them both.\nRising slowly, she looked at them; then passed to the door and out of\nit without a parting word. She walked rapidly, and was gone before\nEsther could decide what to do.\n\nBen-Hur, when he was told of the visit, knew certainly what he had long\nsurmised\u2014that on the day of the crucifixion Iras had deserted her\nfather for Messala. Nevertheless, he set out immediately and hunted for\nher vainly; they never saw her more, or heard of her. The blue bay,\nwith all its laughing under the sun, has yet its dark secrets. Had it a\ntongue, it might tell us of the Egyptian.\n\nSimonides lived to be a very old man. In the tenth year of Nero\u2019s\nreign, he gave up the business so long centred in the warehouse at\nAntioch. To the last he kept a clear head and a good heart, and was\nsuccessful.\n\nOne evening, in the year named, he sat in his arm-chair on the terrace\nof the warehouse. Ben-Hur and Esther, and their three children, were\nwith him. The last of the ships swung at mooring in the current of the\nriver; all the rest had been sold. In the long interval between this\nand the day of the crucifixion but one sorrow had befallen them: that\nwas when the mother of Ben-Hur died; and then and now their grief would\nhave been greater but for their Christian faith.\n\nThe ship spoken of had arrived only the day before, bringing\nintelligence of the persecution of Christians begun by Nero in Rome,\nand the party on the terrace were talking of the news when Malluch, who\nwas still in their service, approached and delivered a package to\nBen-Hur.\n\n\u201cWho brings this?\u201d the latter asked, after reading.\n\n\u201cAn Arab.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe left immediately.\u201d\n\n\u201cListen,\u201d said Ben-Hur to Simonides.\n\nHe read then the following letter:\n\n\u201cI, Ilderim, the son of Ilderim the Generous, and sheik of the tribe of\nIlderim, to Judah, son of Hur.\n\n\u201cKnow, O friend of my father\u2019s, how my father loved you. Read what is\nherewith sent, and you will know. His will is my will; therefore what\nhe gave is thine.\n\n\u201cAll the Parthians took from him in the great battle in which they slew\nhim I have retaken\u2014this writing, with other things, and vengeance, and\nall the brood of that Mira who in his time was mother of so many stars.\n\n\u201cPeace be to you and all yours.\n\n\u201cThis voice out of the desert is the voice of\n\n\u201cIlderim, Shiek.\u201d\n\n\nBen-Hur next unrolled a scrap of papyrus yellow as a withered mulberry\nleaf. It required the daintiest handling. Proceeding, he read:\n\n\u201cIlderim, surnamed the Generous, sheik of the tribe of Ilderim, to the\nson who succeeds me.\n\n\u201cAll I have, O son, shall be thine in the day of thy succession, except\nthat property by Antioch known as the Orchard of Palms; and it shall be\nto the son of Hur who brought us such glory in the Circus\u2014to him and\nhis forever.\n\n\u201cDishonor not thy father. ILDERIM THE GENEROUS, Sheik.\u201d\n\n\n\u201cWhat say you?\u201d asked Ben-Hur, of Simonides.\n\nEsther took the papers pleased, and read them to herself. Simonides\nremained silent. His eyes were upon the ship; but he was thinking. At\nlength he spoke.\n\n\u201cSon of Hur,\u201d he said, gravely, \u201cthe Lord has been good to you in these\nlater years. You have much to be thankful for. Is it not time to decide\nfinally the meaning of the gift of the great fortune now all in your\nhand, and growing?\u201d\n\n\u201cI decided that long ago. The fortune was meant for the service of the\nGiver; not a part, Simonides, but all of it. The question with me has\nbeen, How can I make it most useful in his cause? And of that tell me,\nI pray you.\u201d\n\nSimonides answered,\n\n\u201cThe great sums you have given to the Church here in Antioch, I am\nwitness to. Now, instantly almost with this gift of the generous\nsheik\u2019s, comes the news of the persecution of the brethren in Rome. It\nis the opening of a new field. The light must not go out in the\ncapital.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me how I can keep it alive.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you. The Romans, even this Nero, hold two things sacred\u2014I\nknow of no others they so hold\u2014they are the ashes of the dead and all\nplaces of burial. If you cannot build temples for the worship of the\nLord above ground, then build them below the ground; and to keep them\nfrom profanation, carry to them the bodies of all who die in the\nfaith.\u201d\n\nBen-Hur arose excitedly.\n\n\u201cIt is a great idea,\u201d he said. \u201cI will not wait to begin it. Time\nforbids waiting. The ship that brought the news of the suffering of our\nbrethren shall take me to Rome. I will sail to-morrow.\u201d\n\nHe turned to Malluch.\n\n\u201cGet the ship ready, Malluch, and be thou ready to go with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is well,\u201d said Simonides.\n\n\u201cAnd thou, Esther, what sayest thou?\u201d asked Ben-Hur.\n\nEsther came to his side, and put her hand on his arm, and answered,\n\n\u201cSo wilt thou best serve the Christ. O my husband, let me not hinder,\nbut go with thee and help.\u201d\n\n\nIf any of my readers, visiting Rome, will make the short journey to the\nCatacomb of San Calixto, which is more ancient than that of San\nSebastiano, he will see what became of the fortune of Ben-Hur, and give\nhim thanks. Out of that vast tomb Christianity issued to supersede the\nC\u00e6sars.","title":"Ben-Hur: A tale of the Christ","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":197854}