CHAPTER V
The young
Israelite proceeded then, and rehearsed his conversation with Messala, dwelling
with particularity upon the latter's speeches in contempt of the Jews, their
customs, and much pent round of life.
Afraid to speak
the while, the mother listened, discerning the matter plainly. Judah had gone
to the palace on the Market-place, allured by love of a playmate whom he
thought to find exactly as he had been at the parting years before; a man met
him, and, in place of laughter and references to the sports of the past, the
man had been full of the future, and talked of glory to be won, and of riches
and power. Unconscious of the effect, the visitor had come away hurt in pride,
yet touched with a natural ambition; but she, the jealous mother, saw it, and,
not knowing the turn the aspiration might take, became at once Jewish in her
fear. What if it lured him away from the patriarchal faith? In her view, that
consequence was more dreadful than any or all others. She could discover but
one way to avert it, and she set about the task, her native power reinforced by
love to such degree that her speech took a masculine strength and at times a
poet's fervor.
"There never
has been a people," she began, "who did not think themselves at least
equal to any other; never a great nation, my son, that did not believe itself
the very superior. When the Roman looks down upon Israel and laughs, he merely
repeats the folly of the Egyptian, the Assyrian, and the Macedonian; and as the
laugh is against God, the result will be the same."
Her voice became
firmer.
"There is no
law by which to determine the superiority of nations; hence the vanity of the
claim, and the idleness of disputes about it. A people risen, run their race,
and die either of themselves or at the hands of another, who, succeeding to
their power, take possession of their place, and upon their monuments write new
names; such is history. If I were called upon to symbolize God and man in the
simplest form, I would draw a straight line and a circle, and of the line I
would say, 'This is God, for he alone moves forever straightforward,' and of
the circle, 'This is man - such is his progress.' I do not mean that there is
no difference between the careers of nations; no two are alike. The difference,
however, is not, as some say, in the extent of the circle they describe or the
space of earth they cover, but in the sphere of their movement, the highest
being nearest God.
"To stop
here, my son, would be to leave the subject where we began. Let us go on. There
are signs by which to measure the height of the circle each nation runs while
in its course. By them let us compare the Hebrew and the Roman.
"The
simplest of all the signs is the daily life of the people. Of this I will only
say, Israel has at times forgotten God, while the Roman never knew him;
consequently comparison is not possible.
"Your friend
- or your former friend - charged, if I understood you rightly, that we have
had no poets, artists, or warriors; by which he meant, I suppose, to deny that
we have had great men, the next most certain of the signs. A just consideration
of this charge requires a definition at the commencement. A great man, O my
boy, is one whose life proves him to have been recognized, if not called, by
God. A Persian was used to punish our recreant fathers, and he carried them
into captivity; another Persian was selected to restore their children to the
Holy Land; greater than either of them, however, was the Macedonian through
whom the desolation of Judea and the Temple was avenged. The special
distinction of the men was that they were chosen by the Lord, each for a divine
purpose; and that they were Gentiles does not lessen their glory. Do not lose
sight of this definition while I proceed.
"There is an
idea that war is the most noble occupation of men, and that the most exalted
greatness is the growth of battle-fields. Because the world has adopted the
idea, be not you deceived. That we must worship something is a law which will
continue as long as there is anything we cannot understand. The prayer of the
barbarian is a wail of fear addressed to Strength, the only divine quality he
can clearly conceive; hence his faith in heroes. What is Jove but a Roman hero?
The Greeks have their great glory because they were the first to set Mind above
Strength. In Athens the orator and philosopher were more revered than the
warrior. The charioteer and the swiftest runner are still idols of the arena;
yet the immortelles are reserved for the sweetest singer. The birthplace of one
poet was contested by seven cities. But was the Hellene the first to deny the
old barbaric faith? No. My son, that glory is ours; against brutalism our
fathers erected God; in our worship, the wail of fear gave place to the Hosanna
and the Psalm. So the Hebrew and the Greek would have carried all humanity
forward and upward. But, alas! the government of the world presumes war as an
eternal condition; wherefore, over Mind and above God, the Roman has enthroned
his Caesar, the absorbent of all attainable power, the prohibition of any other
greatness.
"The sway of
the Greek was a flowering time for genius. In return for the liberty it then
enjoyed, what a company of thinkers the Mind led forth? There was a glory for
every excellence, and a perfection so absolute that in everything but war even
the Roman has stooped to imitation. A Greek is now the model of the orators in
the Forum; listen, and in every Roman song you will hear the rhythm of the
Greek; if a Roman opens his mouth speaking wisely of moralities, or
abstractions, or of the mysteries of nature, he is either a plagiarist or the
disciple of some school which had a Greek for its founder. In nothing but war,
I say again, has Rome a claim to originality. Her games and spectacles are
Greek inventions, dashed with blood to gratify the ferocity of her rabble; her
religion, if such it may be called, is made up of contributions from the faiths
of all other peoples; her most venerated gods are from Olympus - even her Mars,
and, for that matter, the Jove she much magnifies. So it happens, O my son,
that of the whole world our Israel alone can dispute the superiority of the
Greek, and with him contest the palm of original genius.
"To the
excellences of other peoples the egotism of a Roman is a blindfold,
impenetrable as his breastplate. Oh, the ruthless robbers! Under their
trampling the earth trembles like a floor beaten with flails. Along with the
rest we are fallen - alas that I should say it to you, my son! They have our highest
places, and the holiest, and the end no man can tell; but this I know - they
may reduce Judea as an almond broken with hammers, and devour Jerusalem, which
is the oil and sweetness thereof; yet the glory of the men of Israel will
remain a light in the heavens overhead out of reach: for their history is the
history of God, who wrote with their hands, spake with their tongues, and was
himself in all the good they did, even the least; who dwelt with them, a
Lawgiver on Sinai, a Guide in the wilderness, in war a Captain, in government a
King; who once and again pushed back the curtains of the pavilion which is his
resting-place, intolerably bright, and, as a man speaking to men, showed them
the right, and the way to happiness, and how they should live, and made them
promises binding the strength of his Almightiness with covenants sworn to
everlastingly. O my son, could it be that they with whom Jehovah thus dwelt, an
awful familiar, derived nothing from him? - that in their lives and deeds the
common human qualities should not in some degree have been mixed and colored
with the divine? that their genius should not have in it, even after the lapse
of ages, some little of heaven?"
For a time the
rustling of the fan was all the sound heard in the chamber.
"In the
sense which limits art to sculpture and painting, it is true," she next
said, "Israel has had no artists."
The admission was
made regretfully, for it must be remembered she was a Sadducee, whose faith,
unlike that of the Pharisees, permitted a love of the beautiful in every form,
and without reference to its origin.
"Still he
who would do justice," she proceeded, "will not forget that the
cunning of our hands was bound by the prohibition, 'Thou shalt not make unto
thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything;' which the Sopherim
wickedly extended beyond its purpose and time. Nor should it be forgotten that
long before Daedalus appeared in Attica and with his wooden statues so
transformed sculpture as to make possible the schools of Corinth and AEgina,
and their ultimate triumphs the Poecile and Capitolium - long before the age of
Daedalus, I say, two Israelites, Bezaleel and Aholiab, the master-builders of
the first tabernacle, said to have been skilled 'in all manner of workmanship,'
wrought the cherubim of the mercy-seat above the ark. Of gold beaten, not
chiseled, were they; and they were statues in form both human and divine. 'And
they shall stretch forth their wings on high, .... and their faces shall look
one to another.' Who will say they were not beautiful? or that they were not
the first statues?"
"Oh, I see
now why the Greek outstripped us," said Judah, intensely interested.
"And the ark; accursed be the Babylonians who destroyed it!"
"Nay, Judah,
be of faith. It was not destroyed, only lost, hidden away too safely in some
cavern of the mountains. One day - Hillel and Shammai both say so - one day, in
the Lord's good time, it will be found and brought forth, and Israel dance
before it, singing as of old. And they who look upon the faces of the cherubim
then, though they have seen the face of the ivory Minerva, will be ready to
kiss the hand of the Jew from love of his genius, asleep through all the
thousands of years."
The mother, in
her eagerness, had risen into something like the rapidity and vehemence of a
speech-maker; but now, to recover herself, or to pick up the thread of her
thought, she rested awhile.
"You are so
good, my mother," he said, in a grateful way. "And I will never be
done saying so. Shammai could not have talked better, nor Hillel. I am a true
son of Israel again."
"Flatterer!"
she said. "You do not know that I am but repeating what I heard Hillel say
in an argument he had one day in my presence with a sophist from Rome."
"Well, the
hearty words are yours."
Directly all her
earnestness returned.
"Where was
I? Oh yes, I was claiming for our Hebrew fathers the first statues. The trick
of the sculptor, Judah, is not all there is of art, any more than art is all
there is of greatness. I always think of great men marching down the centuries
in groups and goodly companies, separable according to nationalities; here the
Indian, there the Egyptian, yonder the Assyrian; above them the music of
trumpets and the beauty of banners; and on their right hand and left, as reverent
spectators, the generations from the beginning, numberless. As they go, I think
of the Greek, saying, 'Lo! The Hellene leads the way.' Then the Roman replies,
'Silence! what was your place is ours now; we have left you behind as dust
trodden on.' And all the time, from the far front back over the line of march,
as well as forward into the farthest future, streams a light of which the
wranglers know nothing, except that it is forever leading them on - the Light
of Revelation! Who are they that carry it? Ah, the old Judean blood! How it
leaps at the thought! By the light we know them. Thrice blessed, O our fathers,
servants of God, keepers of the covenants! Ye are the leaders of men, the
living and the dead. The front is thine; and though every Roman were a Caesar,
ye shall not lose it!"
Judah was deeply
stirred.
"Do not
stop, I pray you," he cried. "You give me to hear the sound of
timbrels. I wait for Miriam and the women who went after her dancing and
singing."
She caught his
feeling, and, with ready wit, wove it into her speech.
"Very well,
my son. If you can hear the timbrel of the prophetess, you can do what I was
about to ask; you can use your fancy, and stand with me, as if by the wayside,
while the chosen of Israel pass us at the head of the procession. Now they come
- the patriarchs first; next the fathers of the tribes. I almost hear the bells
of their camels and the lowing of their herds. Who is he that walks alone
between the companies? An old man, yet his eye is not dim, nor his natural
force abated. He knew the Lord face to face! Warrior, poet, orator, lawgiver,
prophet, his greatness is as the sun at morning, its flood of splendor
quenching all other lights, even that of the first and noblest of the Caesars.
After him the judges. And then the kings - the son of Jesse, a hero in war, and
a singer of songs eternal as that of the sea; and his son, who, passing all
other kings in riches and wisdom, and while making the Desert habitable, and in
its waste places planting cities, forgot not Jerusalem which the Lord had
chosen for his seat on earth. Bend lower, my son! These that come next are the
first of their kind, and the last. Their faces are raised, as if they heard a
voice in the sky and were listening. Their lives were full of sorrows. Their garments
smell of tombs and caverns. Hearken to a woman among them - 'Sing ye to the
Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously!' Nay, put your forehead in the dust
before them! They were tongues of God, his servants, who looked through heaven,
and, seeing all the future, wrote what they saw, and left the writing to be
proven by time. Kings turned pale as they approached them, and nations trembled
at the sound of their voices. The elements waited upon them. In their hands
they carried every bounty and every plague. See the Tishbite and his servant
Elisha! See the sad son of Hilkiah, and him, the seer of visions, by the river
of Chebar! And of the three children of Judah who refused the image of the
Babylonian, lo! that one who, in the feast to the thousand lords, so confounded
the astrologers. And yonder - O my son, kiss the dust again! - yonder the
gentle son of Amoz, from whom the world has its promise of the Messiah to
come!"
In this passage
the fan had been kept in rapid play; it stopped now, and her voice sank low.
"You are
tired," she said.
"No,"
he replied, "I was listening to a new song of Israel."
The mother was
still intent upon her purpose, and passed the pleasant speech.
"In such
light as I could, my Judah, I have set our great men before you - patriarchs,
legislators, warriors, singers, prophets. Turn we to the best of Rome. Against
Moses place Caesar, and Tarquin against David; Sylla against either of the
Maccabees; the best of the consuls against the judges; Augustus against
Solomon, and you are done: comparison ends there. But think then of the
prophets - greatest of the great."
She laughed
scornfully.
"Pardon me.
I was thinking of the soothsayer who warned Caius Julius against the Ides of
March, and fancied him looking for the omens of evil which his master despised
in the entrails of a chicken. From that picture turn to Elijah sitting on the
hill-top on the way to Samaria, amid the smoking bodies of the captains and
their fifties, warning the son of Ahab of the wrath of our God. Finally, O my
Judah - if such speech be reverent - how shall we judge Jehovah and Jupiter
unless it be by what their servants have done in their names? And as for what
you shall do -”
She spoke the
latter words slowly, and with a tremulous utterance.
"As for what
you shall do, my boy - serve the Lord, the Lord God of Israel, not Rome. For a
child of Abraham there is no glory except in the Lord's ways, and in them there
is much glory."
"I may be a
soldier then?" Judah asked.
"Why not?
Did not Moses call God a man of war?"
There was then a
long silence in the summer chamber.
"You have my
permission," she said, finally; "if only you serve the Lord instead
of Caesar."
He was content
with the condition, and by-and-by fell asleep. She arose then, and put the
cushion under his head, and, throwing a shawl over him and kissing him
tenderly, went away.
CHAPTER VI
The good man,
like the bad, must die; but, remembering the lesson of our faith, we say of him
and the event, "No matter, he will open his eyes in heaven." Nearest
this in life is the waking from healthful sleep to a quick consciousness of
happy sights and sounds.
When Judah awoke,
the sun was up over the mountains; the pigeons were abroad in flocks, filling
the air with the gleams of their white wings; and off southeast he beheld the
Temple, an apparition of gold in the blue of the sky. These, however, were
familiar objects, and they received but a glance; upon the edge of the divan,
close by him, a girl scarcely fifteen sat singing to the accompaniment of a nebel,
which she rested upon her knee, and touched gracefully. To her he turned
listening; and this was what she sang:
THE SONG.
"Wake not,
but hear me, love!
Adrift, adrift on slumber's sea,
Thy spirit call to list to me.
Wake not, but hear
me, love!
A gift from Sleep, the restful king,
All happy, happy dreams I bring.
"Wake not,
but hear me, love!
Of all the world of dreams 'tis thine
This once to choose the most divine.
So choose, and
sleep, my love!
But ne'er again in choice be free,
Unless, unless - thou dream'st of
me."
She put the instrument down, and, resting her hands
in her lap, waited for him to speak. And as it has become necessary to tell
somewhat of her, we will avail ourselves of the chance, and add such
particulars of the family into whose privacy we are brought as the reader may
wish to know.
The favors of
Herod had left surviving him many persons of vast estate. Where this fortune
was joined to undoubted lineal descent from some famous son of one of the
tribes, especially Judah, the happy individual was accounted a Prince of
Jerusalem - a distinction which sufficed to bring him the homage of his less
favored countrymen, and the respect, if nothing more, of the Gentiles with whom
business and social circumstance brought him into dealing. Of this class none
had won in private or public life a higher regard than the father of the lad
whom we have been following. With a remembrance of his nationality which never
failed him, he had yet been true to the king, and served him faithfully at home
and abroad. Some offices had taken him to Rome, where his conduct attracted the
notice of Augustus, who strove without reserve to engage his friendship. In his
house, accordingly, were many presents, such as had gratified the vanity of
kings - purple togas, ivory chairs, golden pateroe - chiefly valuable on
account of the imperial hand which had honorably conferred them. Such a man
could not fail to be rich; yet his wealth was not altogether the largess of
royal patrons. He had welcomed the law that bound him to some pursuit; and,
instead of one, he entered into many. Of the herdsmen watching flocks on the
plains and hill-sides, far as old Lebanon, numbers reported to him as their
employer; in the cities by the sea, and in those inland, he founded houses of
traffic; his ships brought him silver from Spain, whose mines were then the
richest known; while his caravans came twice a year from the East, laden with
silks and spices. In faith he was a Hebrew, observant of the law and every
essential rite; his place in the synagogue and Temple knew him well; he was
thoroughly learned in the Scriptures; he delighted in the society of the
college-masters, and carried his reverence for Hillel almost to the point of
worship. Yet he was in no sense a Separatist; his hospitality took in strangers
from every land; the carping Pharisees even accused him of having more than
once entertained Samaritans at his table. Had he been a Gentile, and lived, the
world might have heard of him as the rival of Herodes Atticus: as it was, he
perished at sea some ten years before this second period of our story, in the
prime of life, and lamented everywhere in Judea. We are already acquainted with
two members of his family - his widow and son; the only other was a daughter - she
whom we have seen singing to her brother.
Tirzah was her
name, and as the two looked at each other, their resemblance was plain. Her
features had the regularity of his, and were of the same Jewish type; they had
also the charm of childish innocency of expression. Home-life and its trustful
love permitted the negligent attire in which she appeared. A chemise buttoned
upon the right shoulder, and passing loosely over the breast and back and under
the left arm, but half concealed her person above the waist, while it left the
arms entirely nude. A girdle caught the folds of the garment, marking the
commencement of the skirt. The coiffure was very simple and becoming - a silken
cap, Tyrian-dyed; and over that a striped scarf of the same material,
beautifully embroidered, and wound about in thin folds so as to show the shape
of the head without enlarging it; the whole finished by a tassel dropping from
the crown point of the cap. She had rings, ear and finger; anklets and
bracelets, all of gold; and around her neck there was a collar of gold,
curiously garnished with a network of delicate chains, to which were pendants
of pearl. The edges of her eyelids were painted, and the tips of her fingers
stained. Her hair fell in two long plaits down her back. A curled lock rested
upon each cheek in front of the ear. Altogether it would have been impossible
to deny her grace, refinement, and beauty.
"Very
pretty, my Tirzah, very pretty!" he said, with animation.
"The
song?" she asked.
"Yes - and
the singer, too. It has the conceit of a Greek. Where did you get it?"
"You
remember the Greek who sang in the theatre last month? They said he used to be
a singer at the court for Herod and his sister Salome. He came out just after
an exhibition of wrestlers, when the house was full of noise. At his first note
everything became so quiet that I heard every word. I got the song from
him."
"But he sang
in Greek."
"And I in
Hebrew."
"Ah, yes. I
am proud of my little sister. Have you another as good?"
"Very many.
But let them go now. Amrah sent me to tell you she will bring you your
breakfast, and that you need not come down. She should be here by this time.
She thinks you sick - that a dreadful accident happened you yesterday. What was
it? Tell me, and I will help Amrah doctor you. She knows the cures of the
Egyptians, who were always a stupid set; but I have a great many recipes of the
Arabs who -”
"Are even
more stupid than the Egyptians," he said, shaking his head.
"Do you
think so? Very well, then," she replied, almost without pause, and putting
her hands to her left ear. "We will have nothing to do with any of them. I
have here what is much surer and better - the amulet which was given to some of
our people - I cannot tell when, it was so far back - by a Persian magician.
See, the inscription is almost worn out."
She offered him
the earring, which he took, looked at, and handed back, laughing.
"If I were
dying, Tirzah, I could not use the charm. It is a relic of idolatry, forbidden every
believing son and daughter of Abraham. Take it, but do not wear it any
more."
"Forbidden!
Not so," she said. "Our father's mother wore it I do not know how
many Sabbaths in her life. It has cured I do not know how many people - more
than three anyhow. It is approved - look, here is the mark of the rabbis."
"I have no
faith in amulets."
She raised her
eyes to his in astonishment.
"What would
Amrah say?"
"Amrah's
father and mother tended sakiyeh for a garden on the Nile."
"But
Gamaliel!"
"He says
they are godless inventions of unbelievers and Shechemites."
Tirzah looked at
the ring doubtfully.
"What shall
I do with it?"
"Wear it, my
little sister. It becomes you - it helps make you beautiful, though I think you
that without help."
Satisfied, she
returned the amulet to her ear just as Amrah entered the summer chamber,
bearing a platter, with wash-bowl, water, and napkins.
Not being a
Pharisee, the ablution was short and simple with Judah. The servant then went
out, leaving Tirzah to dress his hair. When a lock was disposed to her
satisfaction, she would unloose the small metallic mirror which, as was the
fashion among her fair countrywomen, she wore at her girdle, and gave it to
him, that he might see the triumph, and how handsome it made him. Meanwhile
they kept up their conversation.
"What do you
think, Tirzah? - I am going away."
She dropped her
hands with amazement.
"Going away!
When? Where? For what?"
He laughed.
"Three
questions, all in a breath! What a body you are!" Next instant he became
serious. "You know the law requires me to follow some occupation. Our good
father set me an example. Even you would despise me if I spent in idleness the
results of his industry and knowledge. I am going to Rome."
"Oh, I will
go with you."
"You must
stay with mother. If both of us leave her she will die."
The brightness
faded from her face.
"Ah, yes,
yes! But - must you go? Here in Jerusalem you can learn all that is needed to
be a merchant - if that is what you are thinking of."
"But that is
not what I am thinking of. The law does not require the son to be what the
father was."
"What else
can you be?"
"A
soldier," he replied, with a certain pride of voice.
Tears came into
her eyes.
"You will be
killed."
"If God's
will, be it so. But, Tirzah, the soldiers are not all killed."
She threw her
arms around his neck, as if to hold him back.
"We are so
happy! Stay at home, my brother."
"Home cannot
always be what it is. You yourself will be going away before long."
"Never!"
He smiled at her earnestness.
"A prince of
Judah, or some other of one of the tribes, will come soon and claim my Tirzah,
and ride away with her, to be the light of another house. What will then become
of me?"
She answered with
sobs.
"War is a
trade," he continued, more soberly. "To learn it thoroughly, one must
go to school, and there is no school like a Roman camp."
"You would
not fight for Rome?" she asked, holding her breath.
"And you - even
you hate her. The whole world hates her. In that, O Tirzah, find the reason of
the answer I give you - Yes, I will fight for her, if, in return, she will
teach me how one day to fight against her."
"When will
you go?"
Amrah's steps
were then heard returning.
"Hist!"
he said. "Do not let her know of what I am thinking."
The faithful
slave came in with breakfast, and placed the waiter holding it upon a stool
before them; then, with white napkins upon her arm, she remained to serve them.
They dipped their fingers in a bowl of water, and were rinsing them, when a
noise arrested their attention. They listened, and distinguished martial music
in the street on the north side of the house.
"Soldiers
from the Praetorium! I must see them," he cried, springing from the divan,
and running out.
In a moment more
he was leaning over the parapet of tiles which guarded the roof at the extreme
northeast corner, so absorbed that he did not notice Tirzah by his side,
resting one hand upon his shoulder.
Their position - the
roof being the highest one in the locality - commanded the house-tops eastward
as far as the huge irregular Tower of Antonia, which has been already mentioned
as a citadel for the garrison and military headquarters for the governor. The
street, not more than ten feet wide, was spanned here and there by bridges,
open and covered, which, like the roofs along the way, were beginning to be
occupied by men, women, and children, called out by the music. The word is
used, though it is hardly fitting; what the people heard when they came forth
was rather an uproar of trumpets and the shriller litui so delightful to the
soldiers.
The array after a
while came into view of the two upon the house of the Hurs. First, a vanguard
of the light-armed - mostly slingers and bowmen - marching with wide intervals
between their ranks and files; next a body of heavy-armed infantry, bearing
large shields, and hastoe longoe, or spears identical with those used in the
duels before Ilium; then the musicians; and then an officer riding alone, but
followed closely by a guard of cavalry; after them again, a column of infantry
also heavy-armed, which, moving in close order, crowded the streets from wall
to wall, and appeared to be without end.
The brawny limbs
of the men; the cadenced motion from right to left of the shields; the sparkle
of scales, buckles, and breastplates and helms, all perfectly burnished; the
plumes nodding above the tall crests; the sway of ensigns and iron-shod spears;
the bold, confident step, exactly timed and measured; the demeanor, so grave,
yet so watchful; the machine-like unity of the whole moving mass - made an
impression upon Judah, but as something felt rather than seen. Two objects
fixed his attention - the eagle of the legion first - a gilded effigy perched
on a tall shaft, with wings outspread until they met above its head. He knew
that, when brought from its chamber in the Tower, it had been received with
divine honors.
The officer
riding alone in the midst of the column was the other attraction. His head was
bare; otherwise he was in full armor. At his left hip he wore a short sword; in
his hand, however, he carried a truncheon, which looked like a roll of white
paper. He sat upon a purple cloth instead of a saddle, and that, and a bridle
with a forestall of gold and reins of yellow silk broadly fringed at the lower
edge, completed the housings of the horse.
While the man was
yet in the distance, Judah observed that his presence was sufficient to throw
the people looking at him into angry excitement. They would lean over the
parapets or stand boldly out, and shake their fists at him; they followed him
with loud cries, and spit at him as he passed under the bridges; the women even
flung their sandals, sometimes with such good effect as to hit him. When he was
nearer, the yells became distinguishable -”Robber, tyrant, dog of a Roman! Away
with Ishmael! Give us back our Hannas!"
When quite near,
Judah could see that, as was but natural, the man did not share the
indifference so superbly shown by the soldiers; his face was dark and sullen,
and the glances he occasionally cast at his persecutors were full of menace;
the very timid shrank from them.
Now the lad had
heard of the custom, borrowed from a habit of the first Caesar, by which chief
commanders, to indicate their rank, appeared in public with only a laurel vine
upon their heads. By that sign he knew this officer - VALERIUS GRATUS, THE NEW
PROCURATOR OF JUDEA!
To say truth now,
the Roman under the unprovoked storm had the young Jew's sympathy; so that when
he reached the corner of the house, the latter leaned yet farther over the
parapet to see him go by, and in the act rested a hand upon a tile which had
been a long time cracked and allowed to go unnoticed. The pressure was strong
enough to displace the outer piece, which started to fall. A thrill of horror
shot through the youth. He reached out to catch the missile. In appearance the
motion was exactly that of one pitching something from him. The effort failed -
nay, it served to push the descending fragment farther out over the wall. He
shouted with all his might. The soldiers of the guard looked up; so did the
great man, and that moment the missile struck him, and he fell from his seat as
dead.
The cohort
halted; the guards leaped from their horses, and hastened to cover the chief
with their shields. On the other hand, the people who witnessed the affair,
never doubting that the blow had been purposely dealt, cheered the lad as he
yet stooped in full view over the parapet, transfixed by what he beheld, and by
anticipation of the consequences flashed all too plainly upon him.
A mischievous
spirit flew with incredible speed from roof to roof along the line of march,
seizing the people, and urging them all alike. They laid hands upon the
parapets and tore up the tiling and the sunburnt mud of which the house-tops
were for the most part made, and with blind fury began to fling them upon the
legionaries halted below. A battle then ensued. Discipline, of course,
prevailed. The struggle, the slaughter, the skill of one side, the desperation
of the other, are alike unnecessary to our story. Let us look rather to the
wretched author of it all.
He arose from the
parapet, his face very pale.
"O Tirzah,
Tirzah! What will become of us?"
She had not seen
the occurrence below, but was listening to the shouting and watching the mad
activity of the people in view on the houses. Something terrible was going on,
she knew; but what it was, or the cause, or that she or any of those dear to
her were in danger, she did not know.
"What has
happened? What does it all mean?" she asked, in sudden alarm.
"I have
killed the Roman governor. The tile fell upon him."
An unseen hand
appeared to sprinkle her face with the dust of ashes - it grew white so
instantly. She put her arm around him, and looked wistfully, but without a
word, into his eyes. His fears had passed to her, and the sight of them gave
him strength.
"I did not
do it purposely, Tirzah - it was an accident," he said, more calmly.
"What will
they do?" she asked.
He looked off
over the tumult momentarily deepening in the street and on the roofs, and
thought of the sullen countenance of Gratus. If he were not dead, where would
his vengeance stop? And if he were dead, to what height of fury would not the
violence of the people lash the legionaries? To evade an answer, he peered over
the parapet again, just as the guard were assisting the Roman to remount his
horse.
"He lives,
he lives, Tirzah! Blessed be the Lord God of our fathers!"
With that outcry,
and a brightened countenance, he drew back and replied to her question.
"Be not
afraid, Tirzah. I will explain how it happened, and they will remember our
father and his services, and not hurt us."
He was leading
her to the summer-house, when the roof jarred under their feet, and a crash of
strong timbers being burst away, followed by a cry of surprise and agony, arose
apparently from the court-yard below. He stopped and listened. The cry was
repeated; then came a rush of many feet, and voices lifted in rage blent with
voices in prayer; and then the screams of women in mortal terror. The soldiers
had beaten in the north gate, and were in possession of the house. The terrible
sense of being hunted smote him. His first impulse was to fly; but where?
Nothing but wings would serve him. Tirzah, her eyes wild with fear, caught his
arm.
"O Judah, what
does it mean?"
The servants were
being butchered - and his mother! Was not one of the voices he heard hers? With
all the will left him, he said, "Stay here, and wait for me, Tirzah. I
will go down and see what is the matter, and come back to you."
His voice was not
steady as he wished. She clung closer to him.
Clearer,
shriller, no longer a fancy, his mother's cry arose. He hesitated no longer.
"Come, then,
let us go."
The terrace or
gallery at the foot of the steps was crowded with soldiers. Other soldiers with
drawn swords ran in and out of the chambers. At one place a number of women on
their knees clung to each other or prayed for mercy. Apart from them, one with
torn garments, and long hair streaming over her face, struggled to tear loose
from a man all whose strength was tasked to keep his hold. Her cries were
shrillest of all; cutting through the clamor, they had risen distinguishably to
the roof. To her Judah sprang - his steps were long and swift, almost a winged
flight -”Mother, mother!" he shouted. She stretched her hands towards him;
but when almost touching them he was seized and forced aside. Then he heard
some one say, speaking loudly,
"That is
he!"
Judah looked, and
saw - Messala.
"What, the
assassin - that?" said a tall man, in legionary armor of beautiful finish.
"Why, he is but a boy."
"Gods!"
replied Messala, not forgetting his drawl. "A new philosophy! What would
Seneca say to the proposition that a man must be old before he can hate enough
to kill? You have him; and that is his mother; yonder his sister. You have the
whole family."
For love of them,
Judah forgot his quarrel.
"Help them,
O my Messala! Remember our childhood and help them. I - Judah - pray you."
Messala affected
not to hear.
"I cannot be
of further use to you," he said to the officer. "There is richer
entertainment in the street. Down Eros, up Mars!"
With the last
words he disappeared. Judah understood him, and, in the bitterness of his soul,
prayed to Heaven.
"In the hour
of thy vengeance, O Lord," he said, "be mine the hand to put it upon
him!"
By great
exertion, he drew nearer the officer.
"O sir, the
woman you hear is my mother. Spare her, spare my sister yonder. God is just, he
will give you mercy for mercy."
The man appeared
to be moved.
"To the Tower
with the women!" he shouted, "but do them no harm. I will demand them
of you." Then to those holding Judah, he said, "Get cords, and bind
his hands, and take him to the street. His punishment is reserved."
The mother was
carried away. The little Tirzah, in her home attire, stupefied with fear, went
passively with her keepers. Judah gave each of them a last look, and covered
his face with his hands, as if to possess himself of the scene fadelessly. He
may have shed tears, though no one saw them.
There took place
in him then what may be justly called the wonder of life. The thoughtful reader
of these pages has ere this discerned enough to know that the young Jew in
disposition was gentle even to womanliness - a result that seldom fails the
habit of loving and being loved. The circumstances through which he had come
had made no call upon the harsher elements of his nature, if such he had. At
times he had felt the stir and impulses of ambition, but they had been like the
formless dreams of a child walking by the sea and gazing at the coming and
going of stately ships. But now, if we can imagine an idol, sensible of the
worship it was accustomed to, dashed suddenly from its altar, and lying amidst
the wreck of its little world of love, an idea may be had of what had befallen
the young Ben-Hur, and of its effect upon his being. Yet there was no sign,
nothing to indicate that he had undergone a change, except that when he raised
his head, and held his arms out to be bound, the bend of the Cupid's bow had
vanished from his lips. In that instant he had put off childhood and become a
man.
A trumpet sounded
in the court-yard. With the cessation of the call, the gallery was cleared of
the soldiery; many of whom, as they dared not appear in the ranks with visible
plunder in their hands, flung what they had upon the floor, until it was strewn
with articles of richest virtu. When Judah descended, the formation was
complete, and the officer waiting to see his last order executed.
The mother,
daughter, and entire household were led out of the north gate, the ruins of
which choked the passageway. The cries of the domestics, some of whom had been
born in the house, were most pitiable. When, finally, the horses and all the
dumb tenantry of the place were driven past him, Judah began to comprehend the
scope of the procurator's vengeance. The very structure was devoted. Far as the
order was possible of execution, nothing living was to be left within its
walls. If in Judea there were others desperate enough to think of assassinating
a Roman governor, the story of what befell the princely family of Hur would be
a warning to them, while the ruin of the habitation would keep the story alive.
The officer
waited outside while a detail of men temporarily restored the gate.
In the street the
fighting had almost ceased. Upon the houses here and there clouds of dust told
where the struggle was yet prolonged. The cohort was, for the most part,
standing at rest, its splendor, like its ranks, in nowise diminished. Borne
past the point of care for himself, Judah had heart for nothing in view but the
prisoners, among whom he looked in vain for his mother and Tirzah.
Suddenly, from
the earth where she had been lying, a woman arose and started swiftly back to
the gate. Some of the guards reached out to seize her, and a great shout
followed their failure. She ran to Judah, and, dropping down, clasped his
knees, the coarse black hair powdered with dust veiling her eyes.
"O Amrah,
good Amrah," he said to her, "God help you; I cannot."
She could not
speak.
He bent down, and
whispered, "Live, Amrah, for Tirzah and my mother. They will come back,
and -”
A soldier drew
her away; whereupon she sprang up and rushed through the gateway and passage
into the vacant court-yard.
"Let her
go," the officer shouted. "We will seal the house, and she will
starve."
The men resumed
their work, and, when it was finished there, passed round to the west side.
That gate was also secured, after which the palace of the Hurs was lost to use.
The cohort at
length marched back to the Tower, where the procurator stayed to recover from
his hurts and dispose of his prisoners. On the tenth day following, he visited
the Market-place.
