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diff --git a/20002-0.txt b/20002-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..516cddd --- /dev/null +++ b/20002-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10937 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Alroy, by Benjamin Disraeli + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Alroy + The Prince Of The Captivity + +Author: Benjamin Disraeli + +Release Date: December 3, 2006 [EBook #20002] +Last Updated: August 26, 1016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALROY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +ALROY + +OR + +THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY + + +By Benjamin Disraeli + + +[Illustration: cover] + +[Illustration: alroy-frontis-174] + +[Illustration: frontis-label] + + +AUTHOR’S PREFACE + +Being at Jerusalem in the year 1831, and visiting the traditionary +tombs of the Kings of Israel, my thoughts recurred to a personage whose +marvellous career had, even in boyhood, attracted my attention, as +one fraught with the richest materials of poetic fiction. And I then +commenced these pages that should commemorate the name of Alroy. In the +twelfth century, when he arose, this was the political condition of the +East: + +The Caliphate was in a state of rapid decay. The Seljukian Sultans, who +had been called to the assistance of the Commanders of the Faithful, had +become, like the Mayors of the palace in France, the real sovereigns of +the Empire. Out of the dominions of the successors of the Prophet, +they had carved four kingdoms, which conferred titles on four Seljukian +Princes, to wit, the Sultan of Bagdad, the Sultan of Persia, the Sultan +of Syria, and the Sultan of Roum, or Asia Minor. + +But these warlike princes, in the relaxed discipline and doubtful +conduct of their armies, began themselves to evince the natural effects +of luxury and indulgence. They were no longer the same invincible +and irresistible warriors who had poured forth from the shores of the +Caspian over the fairest regions of the East; and although they still +contrived to preserve order in their dominions, they witnessed with +ill-concealed apprehension the rising power of the Kings of Karasmé, +whose conquests daily made their territories more contiguous. + +With regard to the Hebrew people, it should be known that, after the +destruction of Jerusalem, the Eastern Jews, while they acknowledged +the supremacy of their conquerors, gathered themselves together for all +purposes of jurisdiction, under the control of a native ruler, a reputed +descendant of David, whom they dignified with the title of ‘The Prince +of the Captivity.’ If we are to credit the enthusiastic annalists of +this imaginative people, there were periods of prosperity when the +Princes of the Captivity assumed scarcely less state and enjoyed +scarcely less power than the ancient Kings of Judah themselves. Certain +it is that their power increased always in an exact proportion to the +weakness of the Caliphate, and, without doubt, in some of the most +distracted periods of the Arabian rule, the Hebrew Princes rose into +some degree of local and temporary importance. Their chief residence was +Bagdad, where they remained until the eleventh century, an age fatal +in Oriental history, from the disasters of which the Princes of the +Captivity were not exempt. They are heard of even in the twelfth +century. I have ventured to place one at Hamadan, which was a favourite +residence of the Hebrews, from being the burial-place of Esther and +Mordecai. + +With regard to the supernatural machinery of this romance, it is +Cabalistical and correct. From the Spirits of the Tombs to the sceptre +of Solomon, authority may be found in the traditions of the Hebrews for +the introduction of all these spiritual agencies. + +Grosvenor Gate: July, 1845. + + + + + +A L R O Y + +[Illustration: page001] + + +CHAPTER I. + + _A Great Day for Israel._ + +THE cornets sounded a final flourish as the Prince of the Captivity +dismounted from his white mule; his train shouted as if they were once +more a people; and, had it not been for the contemptuous leer which +played upon the countenances of the Moslem bystanders, it might have +been taken for a day of triumph rather than of tribute. + +‘The glory has not departed!’ exclaimed the venerable Bostenay, as he +entered the hall of his mansion. ‘It is not as the visit of Sheba unto +Solomon; nevertheless the glory has not yet departed. You have done +well, faithful Caleb.’ The old man’s courage waxed more vigorous, as +each step within his own walls the more assured him against the recent +causes of his fear, the audible curses and the threatened missiles of +the unbelieving mob. + +‘It shall be a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving!’ continued the Prince; +‘and look, my faithful Caleb, that the trumpeters be well served. That +last flourish was bravely done. It was not as the blast before Jericho; +nevertheless, it told that the Lord of Hosts was for us. How the +accursed Ishmaelites started! Did you mark, Caleb, that tall Turk in +green upon my left? By the sceptre of Jacob, he turned pale! Oh! it +shall be a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving! And spare not the wine, +nor the flesh-pots for the people. Look you to this, my child, for the +people shouted bravely and with a stout voice. It was not as the great +shout in the camp when the ark returned; nevertheless, it was boldly +done, and showed that the glory had not yet departed. So spare not the +wine, my son, and drink to the desolation of Ishmael in the juice which +he dare not quaff.’ + +‘It has indeed been a great day for Israel!’ exclaimed Caleb, echoing +his master’s exultation. + +‘Had the procession been forbidden,’ continued Bostenay, ‘had it been +reserved for me of all the princes to have dragged the accursed tribute +upon foot, without trumpets and without guards, by this sceptre, my good +Caleb, I really think that, sluggishly as this old blood now runs, I +would---- But it is needless now to talk; the God of our fathers hath +been our refuge.’ + +‘Verily, my lord, we were as David in the wilderness of Ziph; but now we +are as the Lord’s anointed in the stronghold of Engedi!’ + +‘The glory truly has not yet utterly departed,’ resumed the Prince in a +more subdued tone; ‘yet if---- I tell you what, Caleb; praise the Lord +that you are young.’ + +‘My Prince too may yet live to see the good day.’ + +‘Nay, my child, you misinterpret me. Your Prince has lived to see the +evil day. ‘Twas not of the coming that I thought when I bid you praise +the Lord because you were young, the more my sin. I was thinking, Caleb, +that if your hair was as mine, if you could recollect, like me, the +days that are gone by, the days when it needed no bride to prove we +were princes,«the glorious days when we led captivity captive; I was +thinking, I say, my son, what a gainful heritage it is to be born after +the joys that have passed away.’ + +‘My father lived at Babylon,’ said Caleb. ‘Oh! name it not! name it +not!’ exclaimed the old chieftain. ‘Dark was the day that we lost that +second Zion! We were then also slaves to the Egyptian; but verily we +ruled over the realm of Pharaoh. Why, Caleb, Caleb, you who know all, +the days of toil, the nights restless as a love-sick boy’s, which it has +cost your Prince to gain permission to grace our tribute-day with +the paltry presence of half-a-dozen guards; you who know all my +difficulties, who have witnessed all my mortifications, what would you +say to the purse of dirhems, surrounded by seven thousand scimitars?’ + +‘Seven thousand scimitars!’ ‘Not one less; my father flourished one.’ +‘It was indeed a great day for Israel!’ ‘Nay, that is nothing. When old +Alroy was prince, old David Alroy, for thirty years, good Caleb, thirty +long years we paid _no_ tribute to the Caliph.’ + +‘No tribute! no tribute for thirty years! What marvel then, my Prince, +that the Philistines have of late exacted interest?’ + +‘Nay, that is nothing,’ continued old Bostenay, unmindful of his +servant’s ejaculations. ‘When Moctador was Caliph, he sent to the same +Prince David, to know why the dirhems were not brought up, and David +immediately called to horse, and, attended by all the chief people, rode +to the palace, and told the Caliph that tribute was an acknowledgment +made from the weak to the strong to insure protection and support; and, +inasmuch as he and his people had garrisoned the city for ten years +against the Seljuks, he held the Caliph in arrear.’ + +‘We shall yet see an ass mount a ladder,’ [1] exclaimed Caleb, with +uplifted eyes of wonder. + +‘It is true, though,’ continued the Prince; ‘often have I heard my +father tell the tale. He was then a child, and his mother held him up to +see the procession return, and all the people shouted “The sceptre has +not gone out of Jacob.”’ + +‘It was indeed a great day for Israel.’ + +‘Nay, that is nothing. I could tell you such things! But we prattle; our +business is not yet done. You to the people; the widow and the orphan +are waiting. Give freely, good Caleb, give freely; the spoils of the +Canaanite are no longer ours, nevertheless the Lord is still our God, +and, after all, even this is a great day for Israel. And, Caleb, Caleb, +bid my nephew, David Alroy, know that I would speak with him.’ + +‘I will do all promptly, good master! We wondered that our honoured +lord, your nephew, went not up with the donation this day.’ + +‘Who bade you wonder? Begone, sir! How long are you to idle here? Away! + +‘They wonder he went not up with the tribute to-day. Ay! surely, a +common talk. This boy will be our ruin, a prudent hand to wield our +shattered sceptre. I have observed him from his infancy; he should have +lived in Babylon. The old Alroy blood flows in his veins, a stiff-necked +race. When I was a youth, his grandsire was my friend; I had some +fancies then myself. Dreams, dreams! we have fallen on evil days, and +yet we prosper. I have lived long enough to feel that a rich caravan, +laden with the shawls of India and the stuffs of Samarcand, if not +exactly like dancing before the ark, is still a goodly sight. And our +hard-hearted rulers, with all their pride, can they subsist without us? +Still we wax rich. I have lived to see the haughty Caliph sink into a +slave viler far than Israel. And the victorious and voluptuous Seljuks, +even now they tremble at the dim mention of the distant name of Arslan. +Yet I, Bostenay, and the frail remnant of our scattered tribes, still +we exist, and still, thanks to our God! we prosper. But the age of power +has passed; it is by prudence now that we must flourish. The gibe and +jest, the curse, perchance the blow, Israel now must bear, and with a +calm or even smiling visage. What then? For every gibe and jest, for +every curse, I’ll have a dirhem; and for every blow, let him look to it +who is my debtor, or wills to be so. But see, he comes, my nephew! His +grandsire was my friend. Methinks I look upon him now: the same Alroy +that was the partner of my boyish hours. And yet that fragile form and +girlish face but ill consort with the dark passions and the dangerous +fancies, which, I fear, lie hidden in that tender breast. Well, sir?’ + +‘You want me, uncle?’ + +‘What then? Uncles often want what nephews seldom offer.’ + +‘I at least can refuse nothing; for I have naught to give.’ + +‘You have a jewel which I greatly covet.’ ‘A jewel! See my chaplet! You +gave it me, my uncle; it is yours.’ + +‘I thank you. Many a blazing ruby, many a soft and shadowy pearl, and +many an emerald glowing like a star in the far desert, I behold, my +child. They are choice stones, and yet I miss a jewel far more precious, +which, when I gave you this rich chaplet, David, I deemed you did +possess.’ ‘How do you call it, sir?’ ‘Obedience.’ + +‘A word of doubtful import; for to obey, when duty is disgrace, is not a +virtue.’ + +‘I see you read my thought. In a word, I sent for you to know, wherefore +you joined me not to-day in offering our--our----’ + +‘Tribute.’ + +‘Be it so: tribute. Why were you absent?’ ‘Because it was a tribute; I +pay none.’ ‘But that the dreary course of seventy winters has not erased +the memory of my boyish follies, David, I should esteem you mad. Think +you, because I am old, I am enamoured of disgrace, and love a house of +bondage? If life were a mere question between freedom and slavery, glory +and dishonour, all could decide. Trust me, there needs but little spirit +to be a moody patriot in a sullen home, and vent your heroic spleen upon +your fellow-sufferers, whose sufferings you cannot remedy. But of such +stuff your race were ever made. Such deliverers ever abounded in the +house of Alroy. And what has been the result? I found you and your +sister orphan infants, your sceptre broken, and your tribes dispersed. +The tribute, which now at least we pay like princes, was then exacted +with the scourge and offered in chains. I collected our scattered +people, I re-established our ancient throne, and this day, which you +look upon as a day of humiliation and of mourning, is rightly considered +by all a day of triumph and of feasting; for, has it not proved in the +very teeth of the Ishmaelites, that the sceptre has not yet departed +from Jacob?’ + +‘I pray you, uncle, speak not of these things. I would not willingly +forget you are my kinsman, and a kind one. Let there not be strife +between us. What my feelings are is nothing. They are my own: I cannot +change them. And for my ancestors, if they pondered much, and achieved +little, why then ‘twould seem our pedigree is pure, and I am their true +son. At least one was a hero.’ + +‘Ah! the great Alroy; you may well be proud of such an ancestor.’ + +‘I am ashamed, uncle, ashamed, ashamed.’ + +‘His sceptre still exists. At least, I have not betrayed him. And this +brings me to the real purport of our interview. That sceptre I would +return.’ + +‘To whom?’ + +‘To its right owner, to yourself.’ + +‘Oh! no, no, no; I pray you, I pray you not. I do entreat you, sir, +forget that I have a right as utterly as I disclaim it. That sceptre +you have wielded it wisely and well; I beseech you keep it. Indeed, good +uncle, I have no sort of talent for all the busy duties of this post.’ + +‘You sigh for glory, yet you fly from toil.’ + +‘Toil without glory is a menial’s lot.’ + +‘You are a boy; you may yet live to learn that the sweetest lot of life +consists in tranquil duties and well-earned repose.’ + +‘If my lot be repose, I’ll find it in a lair.’ + +‘Ah! David, David, there is a wildness in your temper, boy, that makes +me often tremble. You are already too much alone, child. And for this, +as well as weightier reasons, I am desirous that you should at length +assume the office you inherit. What my poor experience can afford to aid +you, as your counsellor, I shall ever proffer; and, for the rest, our +God will not desert you, an orphan child, and born of royal blood.’ + +‘Pr’ythee, no more, kind uncle. I have but little heart to mount a +throne, which only ranks me as the first of slaves.’ + +‘Pooh, pooh, you are young. Live we like slaves? Is this hall a servile +chamber? These costly carpets, and these rich divans, in what proud +harem shall we find their match? I feel not like a slave. My coffers are +full of dirhems. Is that slavish? The wealthiest company of the caravan +is ever Bostenay’s. Is that to be a slave? Walk the bazaar of Bagdad, +and you will find my name more potent than the Caliph’s. Is that a badge +of slavery?’ + +‘Uncle, you toil for others.’ + +‘So do we all, so does the bee, yet he is free and happy.’ + +‘At least he has a sting.’ + +‘Which he can use but once, and when he stings----’ + +‘He dies, and like a hero. Such a death is sweeter than his honey.’ + +‘Well, well, you are young, you are young. I once, too, had fancies. +Dreams all, dreams all. I willingly would see you happy, child. Come, +let that face brighten; after all, to-day is a great day. If you had +seen what I have seen, David, you too would feel grateful. Come, let +us feast. The Ishmaelite, the accursed child of Hagar, he does confess +to-day that you are a prince; this day also you complete your eighteenth +year. The custom of our people now requires that you should assume the +attributes of manhood. To-day, then, your reign commences; and at +our festival I will present the elders to their prince. For a while, +farewell, my child. Array that face in smiles. I shall most anxiously +await your presence.’ + +‘Farewell, sir.’ + +He turned his head and watched his uncle as he departed: the bitter +expression of his countenance gradually melted away as Bostenay +disappeared: dejection succeeded to sarcasm; he sighed, he threw himself +upon a couch and buried his face in his hands. + +Suddenly he arose and paced the chamber with an irregular and moody +step. He stopped, and leant against a column. He spoke in a tremulous +and smothered voice: + +‘Oh! my heart is full of care, and my soul is dark with sorrow! What +am I? What is all this? A cloud hangs heavy o’er my life. God of my +fathers, let it burst! + +‘I know not what I feel, yet what I feel is madness. Thus to be is not +to live, if life be what I sometimes dream, and dare to think it might +be. To breathe, to feed, to sleep, to wake and breathe again, again to +feel existence without hope; if this be life, why then these brooding +thoughts that whisper death were better? + +‘Away! The demon tempts me. But to what? What nameless deed shall +desecrate this hand? It must not be: the royal blood of twice two +thousand years, it must not die, die like a dream. Oh! my heart is full +of care, and my soul is dark with sorrow! + +‘Hark! the trumpets that sound our dishonour. Oh, that they but sounded +to battle! Lord of Hosts, let me conquer or die! Let me conquer like +David; or die, Lord, like Saul! + +‘Why do I live? Ah! could the thought that lurks within my secret heart +but answer, not that trumpet’s blast could speak as loud or clear. +The votary of a false idea, I linger in this shadowy life, and feed on +silent images which no eye but mine can gaze upon, till at length they +are invested with all the terrible circumstance of life, and breathe, +and act, and form a stirring world of fate and beauty, time, and death, +and glory. And then, from out this dazzling wilderness of deeds, I +wander forth and wake, and find myself in this dull house of bondage, +even as I do now. Horrible! horrible! + +‘God, of my fathers! for indeed I dare not style thee God of their +wretched sons; yet, by the memory of Sinai, let me tell thee that some +of the antique blood yet beats within these pulses, and there yet is one +who fain would commune with thee face to face, commune and conquer. + +‘And if the promise unto which we cling be not a cheat, why, let him +come, come, and come quickly, for thy servant Israel, Lord, is now a +slave so infamous, so woe-begone, and so contemned, that even when our +fathers hung their harps by the sad waters of the Babylonian stream, +why, it was paradise compared with what we suffer. + +‘Alas! they do not suffer; they endure and do not feel. Or by this time +our shadowy cherubim would guard again the ark. It is the will that is +the father to the deed, and he who broods over some long idea, however +wild, will find his dream was but the prophecy of coming fate. + +‘And even now a vivid flash darts through the darkness of my mind. +Methinks, methinks--ah! worst of woes to dream of glory in despair. No, +no; I live and die a most ignoble thing; beauty and love, and fame and +mighty deeds, the smile of women and the gaze of men, and the ennobling +consciousness of worth, and all the fiery course of the creative +passions, these are not for me, and I, Alroy, the descendant of sacred +kings, and with a soul that pants for empire, I stand here extending my +vain arm for my lost sceptre, a most dishonoured slave! And do I still +exist? Exist! ay, merrily. Hark! Festivity holds her fair revel in these +light-hearted walls. We are gay to-day; and yet, ere yon proud sun, +whose mighty course was stayed before our swords that now he even does +not deign to shine upon; ere yon proud sun shall, like a hero from a +glorious field, enter the bright pavilion of his rest, there shall a +deed be done. + +‘My fathers, my heroic fathers, if this feeble arm cannot redeem your +heritage; if the foul boar must still wallow in thy sweet vineyard, +Israel, at least I will not disgrace you. No! let me perish. The house +of David is no more; no more our sacred seed shall lurk and linger, like +a blighted thing, in this degenerate earth. If we cannot flourish, ‘why, +then, we will die!’ + +‘Oh! say not so, my brother!’ + +He turns, he gazes on a face beauteous as a starry night; his heart is +full, his voice is low. + +‘Ah, Miriam! thou queller of dark spirits! is it thou? Why art thou +here?’ + +‘Why am I here? Are you not here? and need I urge a stronger plea? Oh! +brother dear, I pray you come, and mingle in our festival. Our walls are +hung with flowers you love;[2] I culled them by the fountain’s side; the +holy lamps are trimmed and set, and you must raise their earliest flame. +Without the gate, my maidens wait, to offer you a robe of state. Then, +brother dear, I pray you come and mingle in our festival.’ + +‘Why should we feast?’ + +‘Ah! is it not in thy dear name these lamps are lit, these garlands +hung? To-day to us a prince is given, to-day----’ + +‘A prince without a kingdom.’ + +‘But not without that which makes kingdoms precious, and which full many +a royal heart has sighed for, willing subjects, David.’ + +‘Slaves, Miriam, fellow-slaves.’ + +‘What we are, my brother, our God has willed; and let us bow and +tremble.’ + +‘I will not bow, I cannot tremble.’ + +‘Hush, David, hush! It was this haughty spirit that called the vengeance +of the Lord upon us.’ + +‘It was this haughty spirit that conquered Canaan.’ + +‘Oh, my brother, my dear brother! they told me the dark spirit had +fallen on thee, and I came, and hoped that Miriam might have charmed it. +What we may have been, Alroy, is a bright dream; and what we may be, at +least as bright a hope; and for what we are, thou art my brother. In thy +love I find present felicity, and value more thy chance embraces and thy +scanty smiles than all the vanished splendour of our race, our gorgeous +gardens, and our glittering halls.’ + +‘Who waits without there?’ + +‘Caleb.’ + +‘Caleb!’ + +‘My lord.’ + +‘Go tell my uncle that I will presently join the banquet. Leave me a +moment, Miriam. Nay, dry those tears.’ + +‘Oh, Alroy! they are not tears of sorrow.’ + +‘God be with thee! Thou art the charm and consolation of my life. +Farewell! farewell! + +‘I do observe the influence of women very potent over me. ‘Tis not +of such stuff that they make heroes. I know not love, save that pure +affection which doth subsist between me and this girl, an orphan and my +sister. We are so alike, that when, last Passover, in mimicry she twined +my turban round her head, our uncle called her David. + +‘The daughters of my tribe, they please me not, though they are passing +fair. Were our sons as brave as they are beautiful, we still might dance +on Sion. Yet have I often thought that, could I pillow this moody brow +upon some snowy bosom that were my own, and dwell in the wilderness, +far from the sight and ken of man, and all the care and toil and +wretchedness that groan and sweat and sigh about me, I might haply lose +this deep sensation of overwhelming woe that broods upon by being. No +matter! Life is but a dream, and mine must be a dull one.’ + +Without the gates of Hamadan, a short distance from the city, was +an enclosed piece of elevated ground, in the centre of which rose an +ancient sepulchre, the traditionary tomb of Esther and Mordecai.[3] This +solemn and solitary spot was an accustomed haunt of Alroy, and thither, +escaping from the banquet, about an hour before sunset, he this day +repaired. + +As he unlocked the massy gate of the burial-place, he heard behind him +the trampling of a horse; and before he had again secured the entrance, +some one shouted to him. + +He looked up, and recognised the youthful and voluptuous Alschiroch, the +governor of the city, and brother of the sultan of the Seljuks. He +was attended only by a single running footman, an Arab, a detested +favourite, and notorious minister of his pleasures. + +‘Dog!’ exclaimed the irritated Alschiroch, ‘art thou deaf, or obstinate, +or both? Are we to call twice to our slaves? Unlock that gate!’ +‘Wherefore?’ inquired Alroy. + +‘Wherefore! By the holy Prophet, he bandies questions with us! Unlock +that gate, or thy head shall answer for it!’ + +‘Who art thou,’ inquired Alroy, ‘whose voice is so loud? Art thou some +holiday Turk, who hath transgressed the orders of thy Prophet, and +drunken aught but water? Go to, or I will summon thee before thy Cadi;’ +and, so saying, he turned towards the tomb. + +‘By the eyes of my mother, the dog jeers us! But that we are already +late, and this horse is like an untamed tiger, I would impale him on the +spot. Speak to the dog, Mustapha! manage him!’ + +‘Worthy Hebrew,’ said the silky Mustapha, advancing, ‘apparently you are +not aware that this is our Lord Alschiroch. His highness would fain walk +his horse through the burial-ground of thy excellent people, as he is +obliged to repair, on urgent matters, to a holy Santon, who sojourns on +the other side of the hill, and time presses.’ + +‘If this be our Lord Alschiroch, thou doubtless art his faithful slave, +Mustapha.’ + +‘I am, indeed, his poor slave. What then, young master?’ + +‘Deem thyself lucky that the gate is closed. It was but yesterday thou +didst insult the sister of a servant of my house. I would not willingly +sully my hands with such miserable blood as thine, out away, wretch, +away!’ + +‘Holy Prophet! who is this dog?’ exclaimed the astonished governor. + +‘‘Tis the young Alroy,’ whispered Mustapha, who had not at first +recognised him; ‘he they call their Prince; a most headstrong youth. My +lord, we had better proceed.’ + +‘The young Alroy! I mark him. They must have a prince too! The young +Alroy! Well, let us away, and, dog!’ shouted Alschiroch, rising in his +stirrups, and shaking his hand with a threatening air, ‘dog! remember +thy tribute!’ + +Alroy rushed to the gate, but the massy lock was slow to open; and ere +he could succeed, the fiery steed had borne Alschiroch beyond pursuit. + +An expression of baffled rage remained for a moment on his countenance; +for a moment he remained with his eager eye fixed on the route of his +vanished enemy, and then he walked slowly towards the tomb; but his +excited temper was now little in unison with the still reverie in +which he had repaired to the sepulchre to indulge. He was restless and +disquieted, and at length he wandered into the woods, which rose on the +summit of the burial-place. + +He found himself upon a brow crested with young pine-trees, in the midst +of which rose a mighty cedar. He threw himself beneath its thick and +shadowy branches, and looked upon a valley small and green; in the midst +of which was a marble fountain, the richly-carved cupola,[4] supported +by twisted columns, and banded by a broad inscription in Hebrew +characters. The bases of the white pillars were covered with wild +flowers, or hidden by beds of variegated gourds. The transparent sunset +flung over the whole scene a soft but brilliant light. + +The tranquil hour, the beauteous scene, the sweetness and the stillness +blending their odour and serenity, the gentle breeze that softly rose, +and summoned forth the languid birds to cool their plumage in the +twilight air, and wave their radiant wings in skies as bright---- Ah! +what stern spirit will not yield to the soft genius of subduing eve? + +And Alroy gazed upon the silent loneliness of earth, and a tear stole +down his haughty cheek. + +‘‘Tis singular! but when I am thus alone at this still hour, I ever +fancy I gaze upon the Land of Promise. And often, in my dreams, some +sunny spot, the bright memorial of a roving hour, will rise upon my +sight, and, when I wake, I feel as if I had been in Canaan. Why am I +not? The caravan that bears my uncle’s goods across the Desert would +bear me too. But I rest here, my miserable life running to seed in +the dull misery of this wretched city, and do nothing. Why, the old +captivity was empire to our inglorious bondage. We have no Esther now +to share their thrones, no politic Mordecai, no purple-vested Daniel. O +Jerusalem, Jerusalem! I do believe one sight of thee would nerve me +to the sticking-point. And yet to gaze upon thy fallen state, my uncle +tells me that of the Temple not a stone remains. ‘Tis horrible. Is there +no hope?’ + +‘_The bricks are fallen, but we will rebuild with marble; the sycamores +are cut down, but we will replace them with cedars._’ + +‘The chorus of our maidens, as they pay their evening visit to the +fountain’s side.[5] The burden is prophetic. + +‘Hark again! How beautifully, upon the soft and flowing air, their sweet +and mingled voices blend and float!’ + +‘_YET AGAIN I WILL BUILD THEE, AND THOU SHALT BE BUILT, O VIRGIN OF +ISRAEL! YET AGAIN SHALT THOU DECK THYSELF WITH THY TABRETS, AND GO +FORTH IN THE DANCE OF THOSE THAT MAKE MERRY. YET AGAIN SHALT THOU PLANT +VINEYARDS ON THE MOUNTAINS OF SAMARIA._’ + +‘See! their white forms break through the sparkling foliage of the sunny +shrubs as they descend, with measured step, that mild declivity. A +fair society in bright procession: each one clothed in solemn drapery, +veiling her shadowy face with modest hand, and bearing on her graceful +head a graceful vase. Their leader is my sister. + +‘And now they reach the fountain’s side, and dip their vases in the +water, pure and beauteous as themselves. Some repose beneath the marble +pillars; some, seated ‘mid the flowers, gather sweets, and twine them +into garlands; and that wild girl, now that the order is broken, touches +with light fingers her moist vase, and showers startling drops of +glittering light on her serener sisters. Hark! again they sing.’ + +‘_O VINE OF SIBMAH! UPON THY SUMMER FRUITS, AND UPON THY VINTAGE, A +SPOILER HATH FALLEN!_’ + +A scream, a shriek, a long wild shriek, confusion, flight, despair! +Behold! from out the woods a tur-baned man rushes, and seizes the leader +of the chorus. Her companions fly on all sides, Miriam alone is left in +the arms of Alschiroch. + +The water column wildly rising from the breast of summer ocean, in some +warm tropic clime, when the sudden clouds too well discover that the +holiday of heaven is over, and the shrieking sea-birds tell a time of +fierce commotion, the column rising from the sea, it was not so wild as +he, the young Alroy. + +Pallid and mad, he swift upsprang, and he tore up a tree by its lusty +roots, and down the declivity, dashing with rapid leaps, panting +and wild, he struck the ravisher on the temple with the mighty pine. +Alschiroch fell lifeless on the sod, and Miriam fainting into her +brother’s arms. + +And there he stood, fixed and immovable, gazing upon his sister’s +deathly face, and himself exhausted by passion and his exploit, +supporting her cherished but senseless body. + +One of the fugitive maidens appeared reconnoitring in the distance. +When she observed her mistress in the arms of one of her own people, her +courage revived, and, desirous of rallying her scattered companions, she +raised her voice, and sang: + +_‘HASTE, DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM; O! HASTE, FOR THE LORD HAS AVENGED US, +AND THE SPOILER IS SPOILED._’ + +And soon the verse was responded to from various quarters of the woods, +and soon the virgins reassembled, singing, + +‘_WE COME, O DAUGHTER OF JERUSALEM! WE COME; FOR THE LORD HAS AVENGED +US, AND THE SPOILER IS SPOILED_.’ + +They gathered round their mistress, and one loosened her veil, and +another brought water from the fountain, and sprinkled her reviving +countenance. And Miriam opened her eyes, and said, ‘My brother!’ And he +answered, ‘I am here.’ And she replied in a low voice, ‘Fly, David, fly; +for the man you have stricken is a prince among the people.’ + +‘He will be merciful, my sister; and, doubtless, since he first erred, +by this time he has forgotten my offence.’ + +‘Justice and mercy! Oh, my brother, what can these foul tyrants know +of either! Already he has perhaps doomed you to some refined and +procrastinated torture, already---- Ah! what unutterable woe is mine! +fly, my brother, fly!’ + +‘Fly, fly, fly!’ + +‘There is no fear, my Miriam; would all his accursed race could trouble +us as little as their sometime ruler. See, he sleeps soundly. But his +carcass shall not defile our fresh fountain and our fragrant flowers. +I’ll stow it in the woods, and stroll here at night to listen to the +jackals at their banquet.’ + +‘You speak wildly, David. What! No! It is impossible! He is not dead! +You have not slain him! + +He sleeps, he is afraid. He mimics death that we may leave his side, +and he may rise again in safety. Girls, look to him. David, you do not +answer. Brother, dear brother, surely he has swooned! I thought he had +fled. Bear water, maidens, to that terrible man. I dare not look upon +him.’ + +‘Away! I’ll look on him, and I’ll triumph. Dead! Alschiroch dead! Why, +but a moment since, this clotted carcass was a prince, my tyrant! So we +can rid ourselves of them, eh? If the prince fall, why not the people? +Dead, absolutely dead, and I his slayer! Hah! at length I am a man. +This, this indeed is life. Let me live slaying!’ + +‘Woe! woe, our house is fallen! The wildness of his gestures frightens +me. David, David, I pray thee cease. He hears me not; my voice, +perchance, is thin. I am very faint. Maidens, kneel to your Prince, and +soothe the madness of his passion.’ + +‘_SWEET IS THE VOICE OF A SISTER IN THE SEASON OF SORROW, AND WISE IS +THE COUNSEL OF THOSE WHO LOVE US_.’ + +‘Why, this is my Goliath! a pebble or a stick, it is the same. The Lord +of Hosts is with us. Rightly am I called David.’ + +‘_DELIVER US FROM OUR ENEMIES, O LORD! FROM THOSE WHO RISE UP AGAINST +US, AND THOSE WHO LIE IN WAIT FOR US_.’ + +[Illustration: page020] + +‘Were but this blow multiplied, were but the servants of my uncle’s +house to do the same, why, we should see again the days of Elah! The +Philistine, the foul, lascivious, damnable Philistine! and he must touch +my sister! Oh! that all his tribe were here, all, all! I’d tie such +firebrands to their foxes’ tails, the blaze should light to freedom!’ + +While he spoke, a maiden, who had not yet rejoined the company, came +running towards them swiftly with an agitated countenance. + +‘Fly,’ she exclaimed, ‘they come, they come!’ + +Miriam was reclining in an attendant’s arms, feeble and faint, but the +moment her quick ear caught these words she sprang up, and seized her +brother’s arm. + +‘Alroy! David! brother, dear brother! I beseech thee, listen, I am thy +sister, thy Miriam; they come, they come, the hard-hearted, wicked men, +they come, to kill, perhaps to torture thee, my tender brother. Rouse +thyself, David; rouse thyself from this wild, fierce dream: save +thyself, fly!’ + +‘Ah! is it thou, Miriam? Thou seest he sleepeth soundly. I was dreaming +of noble purposes and mighty hopes. Tis over now. I am myself again. +What wouldst thou?’ + +‘They come, the fierce retainers of this fallen man; they come to seize +thee. Fly, David!’ + +‘And leave thee?’ + +‘I and my maidens, we have yet time to escape by the private way we +entered, our uncle’s garden. When in his house, we are for a moment +safe, as safe as our poor race can ever be. Bostenay is so rich, so +wise, so prudent, so learned in man’s ways, and knows so well the +character and spirit of these men, all will go right; I fear nothing. +But thou, if thou art here, or to be found, thy blood alone will satiate +them. If they be persuaded that thou hast escaped, as I yet pray thou +mayest, their late master here, whom they could scarcely love, why, give +me thy arm an instant, sweet Beruna. So, that’s well. I was saying, if +well bribed,--and they may have all my jewels,--why, very soon, he will +be as little in their memories as he is now in life. I can scarcely +speak; I feel my words wander, or seem to wander; I could swoon, but +will not; nay! do not fear. I will reach home. These maidens are my +charge. ‘Tis in these crises we should show the worth of royal blood. +I’ll see them safe, or die with them.’ + +‘O! my sister, methinks I never knew I was a brother until this hour. My +precious Miriam, what is life? what is revenge, or even fame and freedom +without thee? I’ll stay.’ + +‘_SWEET IS THE VOICE OF A SISTER IN THE SEASON OF SORROW, AND WISE IS +THE COUNSEL OF THOSE WHO LOVE US_.’ + +‘Fly, David, fly!’ + +‘Fly! whither and how?’ + +The neigh of a horse sounded from the thicket. + +‘Ah! they come!’ exclaimed the distracted Miriam. + +‘_ALL THIS HAS COME UPON US, O LORD! YET HAVE WE NOT FORGOTTEN THEE, +NEITHER HAVE WE DEALT FALSELY IN THY COVENANT_.’ + +‘Hark! again it neighs! It is a horse that calleth to its rider. I see +it. Courage, Miriam! it is no enemy, but a very present friend in time +of trouble. It is Alschiroch’s courser. He passed me on it by the tomb +ere sunset. I marked it well, a very princely steed.’ + +_‘BEHOLD, BEHOLD, A RAM IS CAUGHT IN THE THICKET BY HIS HORNS._’ + +‘Our God hath not forgotten us! Quick, maidens, bring forth the goodly +steed. What! do you tremble? I’ll be his groom.’ + +‘Nay! Miriam, beware, beware. It is an untamed beast, wild as the +whirlwind. Let me deal with him.’ + +He ran after her, dashed into the thicket, and brought forth the horse. + +Short time I ween that stately steed had parted from his desert home; +his haughty crest, his eye of fire, the glory of his snorting nostril, +betoken well his conscious pride, and pure nobility of race. His colour +was like the sable night shining with a thousand stars, and he pawed the +ground with his delicate hoof, like an eagle flapping its wing. + +Alroy vaulted on his back, and reined him with a master’s hand. + +‘Hah!’ he exclaimed, ‘I feel more like a hero than a fugitive. Farewell, +my sister; farewell, ye gentle maidens; fare ye well, and cherish +my precious Miriam. One embrace, sweet sister,’ and he bent down and +whispered, ‘Tell the good Bostenay not to spare his gold, for I have a +deep persuasion that, ere a year shall roll its heavy course, I shall +return and make our masters here pay for this hurried ride and bitter +parting. Now for the desert!’ + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + _The Slaying of an Ishmaelite_ + +SPEED, fleetly speed, thou courser bold, and track the desert’s +trackless way. Beneath thee is the boundless earth, above thee is the +boundless heaven, an iron soil and brazen sky. Speed, swiftly speed, +thou courser bold, and track the desert’s trackless way. Ah! dost thou +deem these salty plains[6] lead to thy Yemen’s happy groves, and +dost thou scent on the hot breeze the spicy breath of Araby? A sweet +delusion, noble steed, for this briny wilderness leads not to the happy +groves of Yemen, and the breath thou scentest on the coming breeze is +not the spicy breath of Araby. + +The day has died, the stars have risen, with all the splendour of a +desert sky, and now the Night descending brings solace on her dewy wings +to the fainting form and pallid cheek of the youthful Hebrew Prince. + +Still the courser onward rushes, still his mighty heart supports him. +Season and space, the glowing soil, the burning ray, yield to the +tempest of his frame, the thunder of his nerves, and lightning of his +veins. + +Food or water they have none. No genial fount, no graceful tree, rise +with their pleasant company. Never a beast or bird is there, in that +hoary desert bare. Nothing breaks the almighty stillness. Even the +jackal’s felon cry might seem a soothing melody. A grey wild rat, with +snowy whiskers, out of a withered bramble stealing, with a youthful +snake in its ivory teeth, in the moonlight grins with glee. This is +their sole society. + +Morn comes, the fresh and fragrant morn, for which even the guilty sigh. +Morn comes, and all is visible. And light falls like a signet on the +earth, and its face is turned like wax beneath a seal. Before them and +also on their right was the sandy desert; but in the night they had +approached much nearer to the mountainous chain, which bounded the +desert on the left, and whither Alroy had at first guided the steed. + +The mountains were a chain of the mighty Elburz; and, as the sun rose +from behind a lofty peak, the horse suddenly stopped and neighed, as if +asking for water. But Alroy, himself exhausted, could only soothe him +with caresses. And the horse, full of courage, understood his master, +and neighed again more cheerfully. + +For an hour or two the Prince and his faithful companion proceeded +slowly, but, as the day advanced, the heat became so oppressive, and +the desire to drink so overwhelming, that Alroy again urged on the steed +towards the mountains, where he knew that he should find a well. The +courser dashed willingly forward, and seemed to share his master’s +desire to quit the arid and exhausting wilderness. + +More than once the unhappy fugitive debated whether he should not allow +himself to drop from his seat and die; no torture that could await him +at Hamadan but seemed preferable to the prolonged and inexpressible +anguish which he now endured. As he rushed along, leaning on his +bearer’s neck, he perceived a patch of the desert that seemed of a +darker colour than the surrounding sand. Here, he believed, might +perhaps be found water. He tried to check the steed, but with difficulty +he succeeded, and with still greater difficulty dismounted. He knelt +down, and feebly raked up the sand with his hands. It was moist. He +nearly fainted over his fruitless labour. At length, when he had dug +about a foot deep, there bubbled up some water. He dashed in his hand, +but it was salt as the ocean. When the horse saw the water his ears +rose, but, when he smelt it, he turned away his head, and neighed most +piteously. + +‘Alas, poor beast!’ exclaimed Alroy, ‘I am the occasion of thy +suffering, I, who would be a kind master to thee, if the world would let +me. Oh, that we were once more by my own fair fountain! The thought is +madness. And Miriam too! I fear I am sadly tender-hearted.’ He leant +against his horse’s back, with a feeling of utter exhaustion, and burst +into hysteric sobs. + +And the steed softly moaned, and turned its head, and gently rubbed its +face against his arm, as if to solace him in his suffering. And strange, +but Alroy was relieved by having given way to his emotion, and, charmed +with the fondness of the faithful horse, he leant down and took water, +and threw it over its feet to cool them, and wiped the foam from its +face, and washed it, and the horse again neighed. + +And now Alroy tried to remount, but his strength failed him, and the +horse immediately knelt down and received him. And the moment that the +Prince was in his seat, the horse rose, and again proceeded at a rapid +pace in their old direction. Towards sunset they were within a few miles +of the broken and rocky ground into which the mountains descended; and +afar off Alroy recognised the cupola of the long-expected well. With +re-animated courage and rallied energies he patted his courser’s neck, +and pointed in the direction of the cupola, and the horse pricked up its +ears, and increased its pace. + +Just us the sun set, they reached the well. Alroy jumped off the horse, +and would have led it to the fountain, but the animal would not advance. +It stood shivering with a glassy eye, and then with a groan fell down +and died. + +Night brings rest; night brings solace; rest to the weary, solace to the +sad. And to the desperate night brings despair. + +The moon has sunk to early rest; but a thousand stars are in the sky. +The mighty mountains rise severe in the clear and silent air. In the +forest all is still. The tired wind no longer roams, but has lightly +dropped on its leafy couch, and sleeps like man. Silent all but the +fountain’s drip. And by the fountain’s side a youth is lying. + +Suddenly a creature steals through the black and broken rocks. Ha, ha! +the jackal smells from afar the rich corruption of the courser’s clay. +Suddenly and silently it steals, and stops, and smells. Brave banqueting +I ween to-night for all that goodly company. Jackal, and fox, and +marten-cat, haste ye now, ere morning’s break shall call the vulture to +his feast and rob you of your prey. + +The jackal lapped the courser’s blood, and moaned with exquisite +delight. And in a moment, a faint bark was heard in the distance. And +the jackal peeled the flesh from one of the ribs, and again burst into a +shriek of mournful ecstasy. + +Hark, their quick tramp! First six, and then three, galloping with +ungodly glee. And a marten-cat came rushing down from the woods; but +the jackals, fierce in their number, drove her away, and there she stood +without the circle, panting, beautiful, and baffled, with her white +teeth and glossy skin, and sparkling eyes of rabid rage.[7] + +Suddenly as one of the half-gorged jackals retired from the main corpse, +dragging along a stray member by some still palpitating nerves, the +marten-cat made a spring at her enemy, carried off his prey, and rushed +into the woods. + +Her wild scream of triumph woke a lion from his lair. His mighty form, +black as ebony, moved on a distant eminence, his tail flowed like a +serpent. He roared, and the jackals trembled, and immediately ceased +from their banquet, turning their heads in the direction of their +sovereign’s voice. He advanced; he stalked towards them. They retired; +he bent his head, examined the carcass with condescending curiosity, +and instantly quitted it with royal disdain. The jackals again collected +around their garbage. The lion advanced to the fountain to drink. He +beheld a man. His mane rose, his tail was wildly agitated, he bent over +the sleeping Prince, he uttered an awful roar, which awoke Alroy. + +He awoke; his gaze met the flaming eyes of the enormous beast fixed upon +him with a blended feeling of desire and surprise. He awoke, and from a +swoon; but the dreamless trance had refreshed the exhausted energies of +the desolate wanderer; in an instant he collected his senses, remembered +all that had passed, and comprehended his present situation. He returned +the lion a glance as imperious, and fierce, and scrutinsing, as his own. +For a moment, their flashing orbs vied in regal rivalry; but at length +the spirit of the mere animal yielded to the genius of the man. The +lion, cowed, slunk away, stalked with haughty timidity through the +rocks, and then sprang into the forest. + +Morn breaks; a silver light is shed over the blue and starry sky. +Pleasant to feel is the breath of dawn. Night brings repose, but day +brings joy. + +The carol of a lonely bird singing in the wilderness! A lonely bird that +sings with glee! Sunny and sweet, and light and clear, its airy notes +float through the sky, and trill with innocent revelry. + +The lonely youth on the lonely bird upgazes from the fountain’s side. +High in the air it proudly floats, balancing its crimson wings, and its +snowy tail, long, delicate, and thin, shines like a sparkling meteor in +the sun. + +The carol of a lonely bird singing in the wilderness! Suddenly it +downward dashes, and thrice with circling grace it flies around the head +of the Hebrew Prince. Then by his side it gently drops a bunch of fresh +and fragrant dates. + +‘Tis gone, ‘tis gone! that cheerful stranger, gone to the palmy land it +loves; gone like a bright and pleasant dream. A moment since and it was +there, glancing in the sunny air, and now the sky is without a guest. +Alas, alas! no more is heard the carol of that lonely bird singing in +the wilderness. + +‘As thou didst feed Elijah, so also hast thou fed me, God of my +fathers!’ And Alroy arose, and he took his turban and unfolded it, +and knelt and prayed. And then he ate of the dates, and drank of the +fountain, and, full of confidence in the God of Israel, the descendant +of David pursued his flight. + +He now commenced the ascent of the mountainous chain, a wearisome and +painful toil. Two hours past noon he reached the summit of the first +ridge, and looked over a wild and chaotic waste full of precipices +and ravines, and dark unfathomable gorges. The surrounding hills were +ploughed in all directions by the courses of dried-up cataracts, and +here and there a few savage goats browsed on an occasional patch of +lean and sour pasture. This waste extended for many miles; the distance +formed by a more elevated range of mountains, and beyond these, high in +the blue sky, rose the loftiest peaks of Elburz,[8] shining with sharp +glaciers of eternal snow. + +It was apparent that Alroy was no stranger in the scene of his flight. +He had never hesitated as to his course, and now, after having rested +for a short time on the summit, he descended towards the left by a +natural but intricate path, until his progress was arrested by a black +ravine. Scarcely half a dozen yards divided him from the opposite +precipice by which it was formed, but the gulf beneath, no one could +shoot a glance at its invisible termination without drawing back with a +cold shudder. + +The Prince knelt down and examined the surrounding ground with great +care. At length he raised a small square stone which covered a metallic +plate, and, taking from his vest a carnelian talisman covered with +strange characters, he knocked thrice upon the plate with the signet. +A low solemn murmur sounded around. Presently the plate flew off, and +Alroy pulled forth several yards of an iron chain, which he threw over +to the opposite precipice. The chain fastened without difficulty to +the rock, and was evidently constrained by some magnetic influence. +The Prince, seizing the chain with both his hands, now swung across +the ravine. As he landed, the chain parted from the rock, swiftly +disappeared down the opposite aperture, and its covering closed with the +same low, solemn murmur as before. + +Alroy proceeded for about a hundred paces through a natural cloister +of basalt until he arrived at a large uncovered court of the same +formation, which a stranger might easily have been excused for believing +to have been formed and smoothed by art. In its centre bubbled up a +perpetual spring, icy cold; the stream had worn a channel through the +pavement, and might be traced for some time wandering among the rocks, +until at length it leaped from a precipice into a gorge below, in a +gauzy shower of variegated spray. Crossing the court, Alroy now entered +a vast cavern. + +The cavern was nearly circular in form, lighted from a large aperture +in the top. Yet a burning lamp, in a distant and murky corner, indicated +that its inhabitant did not trust merely to this natural source of the +great blessing of existence. In the centre of the cave was a circular +and brazen table, sculptured with strange characters and mysterious +figures: near it was a couch, on which lay several volumes.[9] Suspended +from the walls were a shield, some bows and arrows, and other arms. + +As the Prince of the Captivity knelt down and kissed the vacant couch, a +figure advanced from the extremity of the cavern into the light. He +was a man of middle age, considerably above the common height, with +a remarkably athletic frame, and a strongly-marked but majestic +countenance. His black beard descended to his waist, over a dark red +robe, encircled by a black girdle embroidered with yellow characters, +like those sculptured on the brazen table. Black also was his turban, +and black his large and luminous eye. + +The stranger advanced so softly, that Alroy did not perceive him, until +the Prince again rose. + +‘Jabaster!’ exclaimed the Prince. + +‘Sacred seed of David,’ answered the Cabalist,[10] ‘thou art expected. I +read of thee in the stars last night. They spoke of trouble.’ + +‘Trouble or triumph, Time must prove which it is, great master. At +present I am a fugitive and exhausted. The bloodhounds track me, but +methinks I have baffled them now. I have slain an Ishmaelite.’ + + + + +CHAPTER III + + _The Hope of Israel_ + +IT WAS midnight. Alroy slept upon the couch: his sleep was troubled. +Jabaster stood by his side motionless, and gazing intently upon his +slumbering guest. + +‘The only hope of Israel,’ murmured the Cabalist,’ my pupil and my +prince! I have long perceived in his young mind the seed of mighty +deeds, and o’er his future life have often mused with a prophetic hope. +The blood of David, the sacred offspring of a solemn race. There is a +magic in his flowing veins my science cannot reach. + +‘When, in my youth, I raised our standard by my native Tigris, and +called our nation to restore their ark, why, we were numerous, wealthy, +potent; we were a people then, and they flocked to it boldly. Did we +lack counsel? Did we need a leader? Who can aver that Jabaster’s brain +or arm was ever wanting? And yet the dream dissolved, the glorious +vision! Oh! when I struck down Marvan, and the Caliph’s camp flung its +blazing shadow over the bloody river, ah! then indeed I lived. Twenty +years of vigil may gain a pardon that I then forgot we lacked the chief +ingredient in the spell, the blood that sleeps beside me. + +‘I recall the glorious rapture of that sacred strife amid the rocks of +Caucasus. A fugitive, a proscribed and outlawed wretch, whose life is +common sport, and whom the vilest hind may slay without a bidding. I, +who would have been Messiah! + +‘Burn thy books, Jabaster; break thy brazen tables; forget thy lofty +science, Cabalist, and read the stars no longer.[11] But last night +I stood upon the gulf which girds my dwelling: in one hand, I held my +sacred talisman, that bears the name ineffable; in the other, the mystic +record of our holy race. I remembered that I had evoked spirits, that I +had communed with the great departed, and that the glowing heavens were +to me a natural language. I recalled, as consolation to my gloomy soul, +that never had my science been exercised but for a sacred or a noble +purpose. And I remembered Israel, my brave, my chosen, and my antique +race, slaves, wretched slaves. I was strongly tempted to fling me down +this perilous abyss, and end my learning and my life together. + +‘But, as I gazed upon the star of David, a sudden halo rose around its +rays, and ever and anon a meteor shot from out the silver veil. I read +that there was trouble in the holy seed; and now comes this boy, who has +done a deed which----’ + +‘The ark, the ark! I gaze upon the ark!’ ‘The slumberer speaks; the +words of sleep are sacred.’ ‘Salvation only from the house of David.’ +‘A mighty truth; my life too well has proved it. ‘He is more calm. It +is the holy hour. I’ll steal into the court, and gaze upon the star that +sways the fortunes of his royal house.’ + +The moonbeam fell upon the fountain; the pavement of the court was a +flood of light; the rocks rose dark around. Jabaster, seated by the +spring, and holding his talisman in his left hand, shaded his sight with +the other as he gazed upon the luminous heavens. + +A shriek! his name was called. Alroy, wild and panting, rushed into the +court with extended arms. The Cabalist started up, seized him, and held +him in his careful grasp, foaming and in convulsions. + +‘Jabaster, Jabaster!’ + +‘I am here, my child.’ + +‘The Lord hath spoken.’ + +‘The Lord is our refuge. Calm thyself, son of David, and tell me all.’ + +‘I have been sleeping, master; is it not so?’ + +‘Even so, my child. Exhausted by his flight and the exciting narrative +of his exploit, my Prince lay down upon the couch and slumbered; but I +fear that slumber was not repose.’ + +‘Repose and I have naught in common now. Farewell for ever to that fatal +word. I am the Lord’s anointed.’ + +‘Drink of the fountain, David: it will restore thee.’ + +‘Restore the covenant, restore the ark, restore the holy city.’ + +‘The Spirit of the Lord hath fallen upon him. Son of David, I adjure +thee tell me all that hath passed. I am a Levite; in my hand I hold the +name ineffable.’ + +‘Take thy trumpet then, summon the people, bid them swiftly raise again +our temple. “The bricks have fallen, but we will rebuild with marble.” + Didst hear that chorus, sir?’ + +‘Unto thy chosen ear alone it sounded.’ + +‘Where am I? This is not our fountain. Yet thou didst say, “the +fountain.” Think me not wild. I know thee, I know all. Thou art +not Miriam. Thou art jabaster; I am Alroy. But thou didst say, “the +fountain,” and it distracted me, and called back my memory to---- + +‘God of Israel, lo, I kneel before thee! Here, in the solitude of +wildest nature, my only witness here this holy man, I kneel and vow, +Lord! I will do thy bidding. I am young, O God! and weak; but thou, +Lord, art all-powerful! What God is like to thee? Doubt not my courage, +Lord; and fill me with thy spirit! but remember, remember her, O Lord! +remember Miriam. It is the only worldly thought I have, and it is pure.’ + +‘Still of his sister! Calm thyself, my son.’ + +‘Holy master, thou dost remember when I was thy pupil in this cavern. +Thou hast not forgotten those days of tranquil study, those sweet, long +wandering nights of sacred science! I was dutiful, and hung upon each +accent of thy lore with the devotion that must spring from love.’ + +‘I cannot weep, Alroy; but were it in my power, I would yield a tear of +homage to the memory of those days.’ + +‘How calmly have we sat on some high brow, and gazed upon the stars!’ + +‘‘Tis very true, sweet child.’ + +‘And if thou e’er didst chide me, ‘twas half in jest, and only for my +silence.’ + +‘What would he now infer? No matter, he grows calmer. How solemn is his +visage in the moonlight! And yet not Solomon, upon his youthful throne, +could look more beautiful.’ + +‘I never told thee an untruth, Jabaster.’ + +‘My life upon thy faith.’ + +‘Fear not the pledge, and so believe me, on the mountain brow watching +the starry heavens with thyself, I was not calmer than I feel, sir, +now.’ + +‘I do believe thee.’ + +‘Then, Jabaster, believe as fully I am the Lord’s anointed.’ + +‘Tell me all, my child.’ + +‘Know, then, that sleeping on the couch within, my sleep was troubled. +Many dreams I had, indefinite and broken. I recall none of their images, +except I feel a dim sensation ‘twas my lot to live in brighter days than +now rise on our race. Suddenly I stood upon a mountain tall and grey, +and gazed upon the stars. And, as I gazed, a trumpet sounded. Its note +thrilled through my soul. Never have I heard a sound so awful. The +thunder, when it broke over the cavern here, and shivered the peak, +whose ruins lie around us, was but a feeble worldly sound to this +almighty music. My cheek grew pale, I panted even for breath. A +flaming light spread over the sky, the stars melted away, and I beheld, +advancing from the bursting radiancy, the foremost body of a mighty +host. + +‘Oh! not when Saul led forth our fighting men against the Philistine, +not when Joab numbered the warriors of my great ancestor, did human +vision gaze upon a scene of so much martial splendour. Chariots and +cavalry, and glittering trains of plumed warriors too robust to need a +courser’s solace; streams of shining spears, and banners like a sunset; +reverend priests swinging their perfumed censers, and prophets hymning +with their golden harps a most triumphant future. + +‘“Joy, joy,” they say, “to Israel, for he cometh, he cometh in his +splendour and his might, the great Messiah of our ancient hopes.” + +‘And, lo! a mighty chariot now appeared, drawn by strange beasts whose +forms were half obscured by the bright flames on which they seemed to +float. In that glorious car a warrior stood, proud and immovable his +form, his countenance. Hold my hand, Jabaster, while I speak; that +chieftain was myself!’ + +‘Proceed, proceed, my son.’ + +‘I started in my dream, and I awoke. I found myself upsitting on my +couch. The pageantry had vanished. Naught was seen but the bright +moonlight and the gloomy cave. And, as I sighed to think I e’er had +wakened, and mused upon the strangeness of my vision, a still small +voice descended from above and called, “Alroy!” I started, but I +answered not. Methought it was my fancy. Again my name was called, and +now I murmured, “Lord, I am here, what wouldst thou?” Naught responded, +and soon great dread came over me, and I rushed out and called to thee, +my master.’ + +‘It was “the Daughter of the Voice”[12] that spake. Since the Captivity +‘tis the only mode by which the saints are summoned. Oft have I heard +of it, but never in these sad degenerate days has its soft aspiration +fallen upon us. These are strange times and tidings. The building of the +temple is at hand. Son of David, my heart is full. Let us to prayer!’ + +Day dawned upon Jabaster, still musing in solitude among his rocks. +Within the cavern, Alroy remained in prayer. + +Often and anxiously the Cabalist shot a glance at his companion, and +then again relapsed into reverie. + +‘The time is come that I must to this youth reveal the secrets of my +early life. Much will he hear of glory, much of shame. Naught must I +conceal, and naught gloss over. + +‘I must tell how in the plains of Tigris I upraised the sacred standard +of our chosen race, and called them from their bondage; how, despairing +of his recreant fathers, and inspired by human power alone, I vainly +claimed the mighty office for his sacred blood alone reserved. God of +my fathers, grant that future service, the humble service of a +contrite soul, may in the coming glory that awaits us, atone for past +presumption! + +‘But for him great trials are impending. Not lightly must that votary +be proved, who fain would free a people. The Lord is faithful to his +promise, but the Lord will choose his season and his minister. Courage, +and faith, and deep humility, and strong endurance, and the watchful +soul temptation cannot sully, these are the fruits we lay upon his +altar, and meekly watch if some descending flame will vouchsafe to +accept and brightly bless them. + +‘It is written in the dread volume of our mystic lore, that not alone +the Saviour shall spring from out our house of princes, but that none +shall rise to free us, until, alone and unassisted, he have gained the +sceptre which Solomon of old wielded within his cedar palaces. + +‘That sceptre must he gain. This fragile youth, untried and delicate, +unknowing in the ways of this strange world, where every step is danger, +how much hardship, how much peril, what withering disappointment, what +dull care, what long despondency, what never-ending lures, now lie in +ambush for this gentle boy! O my countrymen, is this your hope? And I, +with all my lore, and all my courage, and all my deep intelligence of +man; unhappy Israel, why am I not thy Prince? + +‘I check the blasphemous thought. Did not his great ancestor, as young +and as untried, a beardless stripling, with but a pebble, a small +smoothed stone, level a mailed giant with the ground, and save his +people? + +‘He is clearly summoned. The Lord is with him. Be he with the Lord, and +we shall prosper.’ + +It was at sunset, on the third day after the arrival of Alroy at the +cave of the Cabalist, that the Prince of the Captivity commenced his +pilgrimage in quest of the sceptre of Solomon. + +Silently the pilgrim and his master took their way to the brink of the +ravine, and there they stopped to part, perhaps forever. + +‘It is a bitter moment, Alroy. Human feelings are not for beings like +us, yet they will have their way. Remember all. Cherish the talisman as +thy life: nay! welcome death with it pressing against thy heart, rather +than breathe without it. Be firm, be pious. Think of thy ancestors, +think of thy God.’ + +‘Doubt me not, dear master; if I seem not full of that proud spirit, +which was perhaps too much my wont, ascribe it not to fear, Jabaster, +nor even to the pain of leaving thee, dear friend. But ever since that +sweet and solemn voice summoned me so thrillingly, I know not how it is, +but a change has come over my temper; yet I am firm, oh! firmer far than +when I struck down the Ishmaelite. Indeed, indeed, fear not for me. The +Lord, that knoweth all things, knows full well I am prepared even to the +death. Thy prayers, Jabaster, and----’ + +‘Stop, stop. I do remember me. See this ring: ‘tis a choice emerald. +Thou mayst have wondered I should wear a bauble. Alroy, I had a brother +once: still he may live. When we parted, this was the signal of his +love: a love, my child, strong, though we greatly differed. Take it. The +hour may come that thou mayst need his aid. It will command it. If he +live, he prospers. I know his temper well. He was made for what the +worldly deem prosperity. God be with thee, sacred boy: the God of our +great fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob!’ + +They embraced. + +‘We linger,’ exclaimed the Cabalist, ‘we linger. Oh! in vain we quell +the feelings of our kind. God, God bless and be with thee! Art sure thou +hast all? thy dagger and thy wallet? That staff has seen some service. +I cut it on the Jordan. Ah! that I could be thy mate! ‘Twould be nothing +then. At the worst to die together. Such a fate seems sweeter now than +parting. I’ll watch thy star, my child. Thou weepest! And I too. Why! +what is this? Am I indeed Jabaster? One more embrace, and so----we’ll +not say farewell, but only think it.’ + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + _Alroy Falls Among Thieves_ + +TRADITION taught that the sceptre of Solomon could be found only in the +unknown sepulchres of the ancient Hebrew monarchs, and that none might +dare to touch it but one of their descendants. Armed with the cabalistic +talisman, which was to guide him in his awful and difficult researches, +Alroy commenced his pilgrimage to the Holy City. At this time, the love +of these sacred wanderings was a reigning passion among the Jews as well +as the Christians. + +The Prince of the Captivity was to direct his course into the heart +of those great deserts which, in his flight from Hamadan, he had only +skirted. Following the track of the caravan, he was to make his way +to Babylon, or Bagdad. From the capital of the caliphs, his journey +to Jerusalem was one comparatively easy; but to reach Bagdad he must +encounter hardship and danger, the prospect of which would have +divested any one of hope, who did not conceive himself the object of an +omnipotent and particular Providence. + +Clothed only in a coarse black frock, common among the Kourds, girded +round his waist by a cord which held his dagger, his head shaven, and +covered with a large white turban, which screened him from the heat, his +feet protected only by slippers, supported by his staff, and bearing on +his shoulders a bag of dried meat and parched corn, and a leathern skin +of water, behold, toiling over the glowing sands of Persia, a youth +whose life had hitherto been a long unbroken dream of domestic luxury +and innocent indulgence. + +He travelled during the warm night or the early starlit morn. During the +day he rested: happy if he could recline by the side of some +charitable well, shaded by a palm-tree, or frighten a gazelle from its +resting-place among the rough bushes of some wild rocks. Were these +resources wanting, he threw himself upon the sand, and made an awning +with his staff and turban. + +Three weeks had elapsed since he quitted the cavern of the Cabalist. +Hitherto he had met with no human being. The desert became less arid. +A scanty vegetation sprang up from a more genial soil; the ground broke +into gentle undulations; his senses were invigorated with the odour +of wild plants, and his sight refreshed by the glancing form of some +wandering bird, a pilgrim like himself, but more at ease. + +Soon sprang up a grove of graceful palm-trees, with their tall thin +stems, and bending feathery crowns, languid and beautiful. Around, the +verdant sod gleamed like an emerald: silver streams, flowing from a +bubbling parent spring, wound their white forms within the bright green +turf. From the grove arose the softening song of doves, and showers of +gay and sparkling butterflies, borne on their tinted wings of shifting +light, danced without danger in the liquid air. A fair and fresh Oasis! + +Alroy reposed in this delicious retreat for two days, feeding on the +living dates, and drinking of the fresh water. Fain would he have +lingered, nor indeed, until he rested, had he been sufficiently +conscious of his previous exertion. But the remembrance of his great +mission made him restless, and steeled him to the sufferings which yet +awaited him. + +At the dawn of the second day of his journey from the Oasis he beheld to +his astonishment, faintly but distinctly traced on the far horizon, the +walls and turrets of an extensive city.[13] Animated by this unexpected +prospect, he continued his progress for several hours after sunrise. At +length, utterly exhausted, he sought refuge from the overpowering heat +beneath the cupola of the ruined tomb of some Moslem saint. At sunset +he continued his journey, and in the morning found himself within a few +miles of the city. He halted, and watched with anxiety for some evidence +of its inhabitants. None was visible. No crowds or cavalcades issued +from the gates. Not a single human being, not a solitary camel, moved in +the vicinity. + +The day was too advanced for the pilgrim to proceed, but so great was +his anxiety to reach this unknown settlement, and penetrate the mystery +of its silence, that ere sunset Alroy entered the gates. + +A magnificent city, of an architecture with which he was unacquainted, +offered to his entranced vision its gorgeous ruins and deserted +splendour; long streets of palaces, with their rich line of lessening +pillars, here and there broken by some fallen shaft, vast courts +surrounded by ornate and solemn temples, and luxurious baths adorned +with rare mosaics, and yet bright with antique gilding; now an arch of +triumph, still haughty with its broken friezes; now a granite obelisk +covered with strange characters, and proudly towering over a prostrate +companion; sometimes a void and crumbling theatre, sometimes a long and +elegant aqueduct, sometimes a porphyry column, once breathing with the +heroic statue that now lies shivered at its base, all suffused with the +warm twilight of an eastern eve. + +He gazed with wonder and admiration upon the strange and fascinating +scene. The more he beheld, the more his curiosity was excited. He +breathed with difficulty; he advanced with a blended feeling of +eagerness and hesitation. Fresh wonders successively unfolded +themselves. Each turn developed a new scene of still and solemn +splendour. The echo of his step filled him with awe. He looked around +him with an amazed air, a fluttering heart, and a changing countenance. +All was silent: alone the Hebrew Prince stood amid the regal creation of +the Macedonian captains. Empires and dynasties flourish and pass away; +the proud metropolis becomes a solitude, the conquering kingdom even a +desert; but Israel still remains, still a descendant of the most ancient +kings breathed amid these royal ruins, and still the eternal sun could +never rise without gilding the towers of living Jerusalem. A word, a +deed, a single day, a single man, and we might be a nation. + +A shout! he turns, he is seized; four ferocious Kourdish bandits grapple +and bind him. + +The bandits hurried their captive through a street which appeared to +have been the principal way of the city. Nearly at its termination, +they turned by a small Ionian temple, and, clambering over some fallen +pillars, entered a quarter of the city of a more ruinous aspect than +that which Alroy had hitherto visited. The path was narrow, often +obstructed, and around were signs of devastation for which the exterior +of the city had not prepared him. + +The brilliant but brief twilight of the Orient was fast fading away; a +sombre purple tint succeeded to the rosy flush; the distant towers rose +black, although defined, in the clear and shadowy air; and the moon, +which, when he first entered, had studded the heavens like a small white +cloud, now glittered with deceptive light. + +Suddenly, before them rose a huge pile. Oval in shape, and formed by +tiers of arches, it was evidently much dilapidated, and one enormous, +irregular, and undulating rent, extending from the top nearly to the +foundation, almost separated the side to which Alroy and his companions +advanced. + +Clambering up the remainder of this massive wall, the robbers and their +prisoner descended into an immense amphitheatre, which seemed vaster in +the shadowy and streaming moonlight. In it were groups of men, horses, +and camels. In the extreme distance, reclining or squatting on mats and +carpets, was a large assembly, engaged in a rough but merry banquet. A +fire blazed at their side, its red and uncertain flame mingling with the +white and steady moonbeam, and throwing a flickering light over their +ferocious countenances, their glistening armour, ample drapery, and +shawled heads. + +‘A spy,’ exclaimed the captors, as they dragged Alroy before the leader +of the band. + +‘Hang him, then,’ said the chieftain, without even looking up. + +‘This wine, great Scherirah, is excellent, or I am no true Moslem,’ +said a principal robber; ‘but you are too cruel; I hate this summary +punishment. Let us torture him a little, and extract some useful +information.’ + +‘As you like, Kisloch,’ said Scherirah; ‘it may amuse us. Fellow, where +do you come from? He cannot answer. Decidedly a spy. Hang him up.’ + +The captors half untied the rope that bound Alroy, that it might serve +him for a further purpose, when another of the gentle companions of +Scherirah interfered. + +‘Spies always answer, captain. He is more probably a merchant in +disguise.’ + +‘And carries hidden treasure,’ added Kisloch; ‘these rough coats often +cover jewels. We had better search him.’ + +‘Ah! search him,’ said Scherirah, with his rough brutal voice; ‘do what +you like, only give me the bottle. This Greek wine is choice booty. Feed +the fire, men. Are you asleep? And then Kisloch, who hates cruelty, can +roast him if he likes.’ + +The robbers prepared to strip their captive. ‘Friends, friends!’ +exclaimed Alroy, ‘for there is no reason why you should not be friends, +spare me, spare me. I am poor, I am young, I am innocent. I am neither a +spy nor a merchant. I have no plots, no wealth. I am a pilgrim.’ + +‘A decided spy,’ exclaimed Scherirah; ‘they are ever pilgrims.’ + +‘He speaks too well to speak truth,’ exclaimed Kisloch. + +‘All talkers are liars,’ exclaimed Scherirah. + +‘That is why Kisloch is the most eloquent of the band.’ + +‘A jest at the banquet may prove a curse in the field,’ replied Kisloch. + +‘Pooh!’ exclaimed Scherirah. ‘Fellows, why do you hesitate? Search the +prisoner, I say!’ + +They advanced, they seized him. In vain he struggled. + +‘Captain,’ exclaimed one of the band, ‘he wears upon his breast a +jewel!’ + +‘I told you so,’ said the third robber. + +‘Give it me,’ said Scherirah. + +But Alroy, in despair at the thought of losing the talisman, remembering +the injunctions of Jabaster, and animated by supernatural courage, burst +from his searchers, and, seizing a brand from the fire, held them at +bay. + +‘The fellow has spirit,’ said Scherirah, calmly. ‘‘Tis pity it will cost +him his life.’ + +‘Bold man,’ exclaimed Alroy, ‘for a moment hear me! I am a pilgrim, +poorer than a beggar. The jewel they talk of is a holy emblem, worthless +to you, to me invaluable, and to be forfeited only with my life. You +may be careless of that. Beware of your own. The first man who advances +dies. I pray you humbly, chieftain, let me go.’ + +‘Kill him,’ said Scherirah. + +‘Stab him!’ exclaimed Kisloch. + +‘Give me the jewel,’ said the third robber. + +‘The God of David be my refuge, then!’ exclaimed Alroy. + +‘He is a Hebrew, he is a Hebrew,’ exclaimed Scherirah, jumping up. +‘Spare him, my mother was a Jewess.’ + +The assailants lowered their arms, and withdrew a few paces. Alroy still +remained upon his guard. + +‘Valiant pilgrim,’ said Scherirah, advancing, with a softened voice, +‘are you for the holy city?’ + +‘The city of my fathers.’ + +‘A perilous journey. And whence from?’ + +‘Hamadan.’ + +‘A dreary way. You need repose. Your name?’ + +‘David.’ + +‘David, you are among friends. Rest, and repose in safety. You hesitate. +Fear not! The memory of my mother is a charm that always changes me!’ +Scherirah unsheathed his dagger, punctured his arm,[14] and, throwing +away the weapon, offered the bleeding member to Alroy. The Prince of the +Captivity touched the open vein with his lips. + +‘My troth is pledged,’ said the bandit; ‘I can never betray him in whose +veins my own blood is flowing.’ So saying, he led Alroy to his carpet. + +‘Eat,’ David,’ said Scherirah. + +‘I will eat bread,’ answered Alroy. + +‘What! have you had so much meat lately that you will refuse this +delicate gazelle that I brought down this morning with my own lance? +‘Tis food for a caliph.’ + +‘I pray you give me bread.’ + +‘Oh! bread if you like. But that a man should prefer bread to meat, and +such meat as this, ‘tis miraculous.’ + +‘A thousand thanks, good Scherirah; but with our people the flesh of the +gazelle is forbidden. It is unclean. Its foot is _cloven_.’ + +‘I have heard of these things,’ replied Scherirah, with a thoughtful +air. ‘My mother was a Jewess, and my father was a Kourd. Whichever be +right, I hope to be saved.’ + +‘There is but one God, and Mahomed is his prophet!’ exclaimed Kisloch; +‘though I drink wine. Your health, Hebrew.’ + +‘I will join you,’ said to the third robber. ‘My father was a Guebre, +and sacrificed his property to his faith; and the consequence is, his +son has got neither.’ + +‘As for me,’ said a fourth robber, of very dark complexion and +singularly small bright eyes, ‘I am an Indian, and I believe in the +great golden figure with carbuncle eyes, in the temple of Delhi.’ + +‘I have no religion,’ said a tall negro in a red turban, grinning with +his white teeth; ‘they have none in my country; but if I had heard of +your God before, Calidas, I would have believed in him.’ + +‘I almost wish I had been a Jew,’ exclaimed Scherirah, musing. ‘My +mother was a good woman.’ ‘The Jews are very rich,’ said the third +robber. ‘When you get to Jerusalem, David, you will see the Christians,’ +continued Scherirah. + +‘The accursed Giaours,’ exclaimed Kisloch, ‘we are all against them.’ + +‘With their white faces,’ exclaimed the negro. ‘And their blue eyes,’ +said the Indian. ‘What can you expect of men who live in a country +without a sun?’ observed the Guebre. + +Alroy awoke about two hours after midnight. His companions were in deep +slumber. The moon had set, the fire had died away, a few red embers +alone remaining; dark masses of shadow hung about the amphitheatre. He +arose and cautiously stepped over the sleeping bandits. He was not +in strictness a prisoner; but who could trust to the caprice of these +lawless men? To-morrow might find him their slave, or their companion in +some marauding expedition, which might make him almost retrace his steps +to the Caucasus, or to Hamadan. The temptation to ensure his freedom +was irresistible. He clambered up the ruined wall, descended into the +intricate windings that led to the Ionic fane, that served him as a +beacon, hurried through the silent and starry streets, gained the great +portal, and rushed once more into the desert. + +A vague fear of pursuit made him continue his course many hours without +resting. The desert again became sandy, the heat increased. The breeze +that plays about the wilderness, and in early spring is often scented +with the wild fragrance of aromatic plants, sank away. A lurid +brightness suffused the heavens. An appalling stillness pervaded nature; +even the insects were silent. For the first time in his pilgrimage, +a feeling of deep despondency fell over the soul of Alroy. His energy +appeared suddenly to have deserted him. A low hot wind began to rise, +and fan his cheek with pestiferous kisses, and enervate his frame with +its poisonous embrace. His head and limbs ached with a dull sensation, +more terrible than pain; his sight was dizzy, his tongue swollen. Vainly +he looked around for aid; vainly he extended his forlorn arms, and +wrung them to the remorseless heaven, almost frantic with thirst. The +boundless horizon of the desert disappeared, and the unhappy victim, in +the midst of his torture, found himself apparently surrounded by bright +and running streams, the fleeting waters of the false mirage! + +The sun became blood-red, the sky darker, the sand rose in fierce +eddies, the moaning wind burst into shrieks and exhaled more ardent +and still more malignant breath. The pilgrim could no longer sustain +himself.[15] Faith, courage, devotion deserted him with his failing +energies. He strove no longer with his destiny, he delivered himself +up to despair and death. He fell upon one knee with drooping head, +supporting himself by one quivering hand, and then, full of the anguish +of baffled purposes and lost affections, raising his face and arm to +heaven, thus to the elements he poured his passionate farewell. + +‘O life! once vainly deemed a gloomy toil, I feel thy sweetness now! +Farewell, O life, farewell my high resolves and proud conviction of +almighty fame. My days, my short unprofitable days, melt into the past; +and death, with which I struggle, horrible death, arrests me in this +wilderness. O my sister, could thy voice but murmur in my ear one single +sigh of love; could thine eye with its soft radiance but an instant +blend with my dim fading vision, the pang were nothing. Farewell, +Miriam! my heart is with thee by thy fountain’s side. Fatal blast, +bear her my dying words, my blessing. And ye too, friends, whose too +neglected love I think of now, farewell! Farewell, my uncle; farewell, +pleasant home, and Hamadan’s serene and shadowy bowers! Farewell, +Jabaster, and the mighty lore of which thou wert the priest and I the +pupil! Thy talisman throbs on my faithful heart. Green earth and golden +sun, and all the beautiful and glorious sights ye fondly lavish on +unthinking man, farewell, farewell! I die in the desert: ‘tis bitter. No +more, oh! never more for me the hopeful day shall break, and the fresh +breeze rise on its cheering wings of health and joy. Heaven and earth, +water and air, my chosen country and my antique creed, farewell, +farewell! And thou, too, city of my soul, I cannot name thee, unseen +Jerusalem----’ + +Amid the roar of the wind, the bosom of the earth heaved and opened, +swift columns of sand sprang up to the lurid sky, and hurried towards +their victim. With the clang of universal chaos, impenetrable darkness +descended on the desert. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + _Lord Honain Rescues Alroy_ + +NOW our dreary way is over, now the desert’s toil is past. Soon the +river broadly flowing, through its green and palmy banks, to our +wearied limbs shall offer baths ‘which caliphs cannot buy. Allah-illah, +Allah-hu. Allah-illah, Allah-hu.’ + +‘Blessed the man who now may bear a relic from our Prophet’s tomb; +blessed the man who now unfolds the treasures of a distant mart, +jewels of the dusky East, and silks of farthest Samarcand. Allah-illah, +Allah-hu. Allah-illah, Allah-hu.’ + +‘Him the sacred mosque shall greet with a reverence grave and +low; him the busy Bezestein shall welcome with confiding smile. Holy +merchant, now receive the double triumph of thy toil. Allah-illah, +Allah-hu. Allah-illah, Allah-hu.’ + +‘The camel jibs, Abdallah! See, there is something in the track.’ + +‘By the holy stone,[16] a dead man. Poor devil! One should never make +a pilgrimage on foot. I hate your humble piety. Prick the beast and he +will pass the corpse.’ + +‘The Prophet preaches charity, Abdallah. He has favoured my enterprise, +and I will practise his precept. See if he be utterly dead.’ + +It was the Mecca caravan returning to Bagdad. The pilgrims were within +a day’s journey of the Euphrates, and welcomed their approach to fertile +earth with a triumphant chorus. Far as the eye could reach, the long +line of their straggling procession stretched across the wilderness, +thousands of camels in strings, laden with bales of merchandise, and +each company headed by an animal of superior size, leading with tinkling +bells; groups of horsemen, clusters of litters; all the pilgrims +armed to their teeth, the van formed by a strong division of Seljukian +cavalry, and the rear protected by a Kourdish clan, who guaranteed the +security of the pious travellers through their country. + +Abdallah was the favourite slave of the charitable merchant Ali. In +obedience to his master’s orders, he unwillingly descended from his +camel, and examined the body of the apparently lifeless Alroy. + +‘A Kourd, by his dress,’ exclaimed Abdallah, with a sneer; ‘what does he +here?’ + +‘It is not the face of a Kourd,’ replied Ali; ‘perchance a pilgrim from +the mountains.’ + +‘Whatever he be, he is dead,’ answered the slave: ‘I doubt not an +accursed Giaour.’ + +‘God is great,’ exclaimed Ali; ‘he breathes; the breast of his caftan +heaved.’ + +‘‘Twas the wind,’ said Abdallah. + +‘‘Twas the sigh of a human heart,’ answered Ali. + +Several pilgrims who were on foot now gathered around the group. + +‘I am a Hakim,’[17] observed a dignified Armenian. ‘I will feel his +pulse; ‘tis dull, but it beats.’ + +‘There is but one God,’ exclaimed Ali. + +‘And Mahomed is his Prophet,’ responded Abdallah. ‘You do not believe in +him, you Armenian infidel.’ + +‘I am a Hakim,’ replied the dignified Armenian. ‘Although an infidel, +God has granted me skill to cure true believers. Worthy Ali, believe me, +the boy may yet live.’ + +‘Hakim, you shall count your own dirhems if he breathe in my divan in +Bagdad,’ answered Ali; ‘I have taken a fancy to the boy. God has sent +him to me. He shall carry my slippers.’ + +‘Give me a camel, and I will save his life.’ + +‘We have none,’ said the servant. + +‘Walk, Abdallah,’ said the master. + +‘Is a true believer to walk to save the life of a Kourd? Master +slipper-bearer shall answer for this, if there be any sweetness in the +bastinado,’ murmured Abdallah. + +The Armenian bled Alroy; the blood flowed slowly but surely. The Prince +of the Captivity opened his eyes. + +‘There is but one God,’ exclaimed Ali. + +‘The evil eye fall on him!’ muttered Abdallah. + +The Armenian took a cordial from his vest, and poured it down his +patient’s throat. The blood flowed more freely. + +‘He will live, worthy merchant,’ said the physician. + +‘And Mahomed is his Prophet,’ continued Ali. + +‘By the stone of Mecca, I believe it is a Jew,’ shouted Abdallah. + +‘The dog!’ exclaimed Ali. + +‘Pah!’ said a negro slave, drawing back with disgust. + +‘He will die,’ said the Christian physician, not even binding up the +vein. + +‘And be damned,’ said Abdallah, again jumping on his camel. + +The party rode on, the caravan proceeded. A Kourdish horseman galloped +forward. He curbed his steed as he passed Alroy bleeding to death. + +‘What accursed slave has wounded one of my clan?’ + +The Kourd leaped off his horse, stripped off a slip of his blue shirt, +stanched the wound, and carried the unhappy Alroy to the rear. + +The desert ceased, the caravan entered upon a vast but fruitful plain. +In the extreme distance might be descried a long undulating line of +palm-trees. The vanguard gave a shout, shook their tall lances in the +air, and rattled their scimitars in rude chorus against their small +round iron shields. All eyes sparkled, all hands were raised, all voices +sounded, save those that were breathless from overpowering joy. After +months wandering in the sultry wilderness, they beheld the great +Euphrates. + +Broad and fresh, magnificent and serene, the mighty waters rolled +through the beautiful and fertile earth. A vital breeze rose from their +bosom. Every being responded to their genial influence. The sick were +cured, the desponding became sanguine, the healthy and light-hearted +broke into shouts of laughter, jumped from their camels, and embraced +the fragrant earth, or, wild in their renovated strength, galloped over +the plain, and threw their wanton jerreeds in the air,[18] as if to +show that suffering and labour had not deprived them of that skill and +strength, without which it were vain again to enter the haunts of their +less adventurous brethren. + +The caravan halted on the banks of the broad river, glowing in the +cool sunset. The camp was pitched, the plain glittered with tents. The +camels, falling on their knees, crouched in groups, the merchandise +piled up in masses by their sides. The unharnessed horses rushed +neighing about the plain, tossing their glad heads, and rolling in the +unaccustomed pasture. Spreading their mats, and kneeling towards Mecca, +the pilgrims performed their evening orisons. Never was thanksgiving +more sincere. They arose: some rushed into the river, some lighted +lamps, some pounded coffee.[19] Troops of smiling villagers arrived with +fresh provisions, eager to prey upon such light hearts and heavy purses. +It was one of those occasions when the accustomed gravity of the Orient +disappears. Long through the night the sounds of music and the shouts of +laughter were heard on the banks of that starry river; long through the +night you might have listened with enchantment to the wild tales of the +storier, or gazed with fascination on the wilder gestures of the dancing +girls.[20] + +The great bazaar of Bagdad afforded an animated and sumptuous spectacle +on the day after the arrival of the caravan. All the rare and costly +products of the world were collected in that celebrated mart: the shawls +of Cachemire and the silks of Syria, the ivory, and plumes, and gold +of Afric, the jewels of Ind, the talismans of Egypt, the perfumes and +manuscripts of Persia, the spices and gums of Araby, beautiful horses, +more beautiful slaves, cloaks of sable, pelisses of ermine, armour alike +magnificent in ornament and temper, rare animals, still rarer birds, +blue apes in silver collars, white gazelles bound by a golden chain, +greyhounds, peacocks, paroquets. And everywhere strange, and busy, and +excited groups; men of all nations, creeds, and climes: the sumptuous +and haughty Turk, the graceful and subtle Arab, the Hebrew with his +black cap and anxious countenance; the Armenian Christian, with his dark +flowing robes, and mild demeanour, and serene visage. Here strutted +the lively, affected, and superfine Persian; and there the Circassian +stalked with his long hair and chain cuirass. The fair Georgian jostled +the ebony form of the merchant of Dongola or Sennaar. + +Through the long, narrow, arched, and winding streets of the bazaar, +lined on each side with loaded stalls, all was bustle, bargaining, and +barter. A passenger approached, apparently of no common rank. Two pages +preceded him, beautiful Georgian boys, clothed in crimson cloth, and +caps of the same material, sitting tight to their heads, with long +golden tassels. One bore a blue velvet bag, and the other a clasped and +richly bound volume. Four footmen, armed, followed their master, who +rode behind the pages on a milk-white mule. He was a man of middle age, +eminently handsome. His ample robes concealed the only fault in +his appearance, a figure which indulgence had rendered somewhat too +exuberant. His eyes were large, and soft, and dark; his nose aquiline, +but delicately moulded; his mouth small, and beautifully proportioned; +his lip full and red; his teeth regular and dazzling white. His ebony +beard flowed, but not at too great a length, in graceful and natural +curls, and was richly perfumed; a delicate mustachio shaded his upper +lip, but no whisker was permitted to screen the form and shroud the +lustre of his oval countenance and brilliant complexion. Altogether, the +animal perhaps predominated too much in the expression of the stranger’s +countenance; but genius beamed from his passionate eye, and craft lay +concealed in that subtle lip. The dress of the rider was sumptuous. His +turban, formed by a scarlet Cachemire shawl, was of great breadth, and +concealing half of his white forehead, increased by the contrast the +radiant height of the other. His under-vest was of white Damascus silk, +stiff with silver embroidery, and confined by a girdle formed by a Brusa +scarf of gold stuff, and holding a dagger, whose hilt appeared blazing +with brilliants and rubies. His loose and exterior robe was of crimson +cloth. His white hands sparkled with rings, and his ears glittered with +pendulous gems. + +‘Who is this?’ asked an Egyptian merchant, in a low whisper, of the +dealer whose stuffs he was examining. + +‘‘Tis the Lord Honain,’ replied the dealer. ‘And who may he be?’ +continued the Egyptian. ‘Is he the Caliph’s son?’ + +‘A much greater man; his physician.’ The white mule stopped at the very +stall where this conversation was taking place. The pages halted, and +stood on each side of their master, the footmen kept off the crowd. + +‘Merchant,’ said Honain, with a gracious smile of condescension, and +with a voice musical as a flute, ‘Merchant, did you obtain me my wish?’ + +‘There is but one God,’ replied the dealer, who was the charitable +Ali, ‘and Mahomed is his Prophet. I succeeded, please your highness, in +seeing at Aleppo the accursed Giaour, of whom I spoke, and behold, +that which you desired is here.’ So saying, Ali produced several Greek +manuscripts, and offered them to his visitor. + +‘Hah!’ said Honain, with a sparkling eye, ‘‘tis well; their cost?’ + +‘The infidel would not part with them under five hundred dirhems,’ +replied Ali. + +‘Ibrahim, see that this worthy merchant receive a thousand.’ + +‘As many thanks, my Lord Honain.’ + +The Caliph’s physician bowed gracefully. + +‘Advance, pages,’ continued Honain; ‘why this stoppage? Ibrahim, see +that our way be cleared. What is all this?’ + +A crowd of men advanced, pulling along a youth, who, almost exhausted, +still singly struggled with his ungenerous adversaries. + +‘The Cadi, the Cadi,’ cried the foremost of them, who was Abdallah, +‘drag him to the Cadi.’ + +‘Noble lord,’ cried the youth, extricating himself by a sudden struggle +from the grasp of his captors, and seizing the robe of Honain, ‘I am +innocent and injured. I pray thy help.’ + +‘The Cadi, the Cadi,’ exclaimed Abdallah; ‘the knave has stolen my ring, +the ring given me by my faithful Fatima on our marriage-day, and which I +would not part with for my master’s stores.’ + +The youth still clung to the robe of Honain, and, mute from exhaustion, +fixed upon him his beautiful and imploring eye. + +‘Silence,’ proclaimed Honain, ‘I will judge this cause.’ + +‘The Lord Honain, the Lord Honain, listen to the Lord Honain!’ + +‘Speak, thou brawler; of what hast thou to complain?’ said Honain to +Abdallah. + +‘May it please your highness,’ said Abdallah, in a whining voice, ‘I am +the slave of your faithful servant, Ali: often have I had the honour of +waiting on your highness. This young knave here, a beggar, has robbed +me, while slumbering in a coffee-house, of a ring; I have my witnesses +to prove my slumbering. ‘Tis a fine emerald, may it please your +highness, and doubly valuable to me as a love-token from my Fatima. +No consideration in the world could induce me to part with it; and so, +being asleep, here are three honest men who will prove the sleep, comes +this little vagabond, may it please your highness, who while he pretends +to offer me my coffee, takes him my finger, and slips off this precious +ring, which he now wears upon his beggarly paw, and will not restore to +me without the bastinado.’ + +‘Abdallah is a faithful slave, may it please your highness, and a +Hadgee,’ said Ali, his master. + +‘And what sayest thou, boy?’ inquired Honain. + +‘That this is a false knave, who lies as slaves ever will.’ + +‘Pithy, and perhaps true,’ said Honain. + +‘You call me a slave, you young scoundrel?’ exclaimed Abdallah; ‘shall +I tell you what you are? Why, your highness, do not listen to him a +moment. It is a shame to bring such a creature into your presence; for, +by the holy stone, and I am a Hadgee, I doubt little he is a Jew.’ + +Honain grew somewhat pale, and bit his lip. He was perhaps annoyed that +he had interfered so publicly in behalf of so unpopular a character as +a Hebrew, but he was unwilling to desert one whom a moment before he had +resolved to befriend, and he inquired of the youth where he had obtained +the ring. + +‘The ring was given to me by my dearest friend when I first set out upon +an arduous pilgrimage not yet completed. There is but one person in the +world, except the donor, to whom I would part with it, and with that +person I am unacquainted. All this may seem improbable, but all this is +true. I have truth alone to support me. I am destitute and friendless; +but I am not a beggar, nor will any suffering induce me to become one. +Feeling, from various circumstances, utterly exhausted, I entered a +coffee-house and lay down, it may have been to die. I could not sleep, +although my eyes were shut, and nothing would have roused me from a +tremulous trance, which I thought was dying, but this plunderer here, +who would not wait until death had permitted him quietly to possess +himself of a jewel I value more than life.’ + +‘Show me the jewel.’ + +The youth held up his hand to Honain, who felt his pulse, and then took +off the ring. + +‘O, my Fatima!’ exclaimed Abdallah. + +‘Silence, sir!’ said Honain. ‘Page, call a jeweller.’ + +Honain examined the ring attentively. Whether he were near-sighted, or +whether the deceptive light of the covered bazaar prevented him from +examining it with ease, he certainly raised his hand to his brow, and +for some moments his countenance was invisible. + +The jeweller arrived, and, pressing his hand to his heart, bowed before +Honain. + +‘Value this ring,’ said Honain, in a low voice. + +The jeweller took the ring, viewed it in all directions with a +scrutinising glance, held it to the light, pressed it to his tongue, +turned it over and over, and finally declared that he could not sell +such a ring under a thousand dirhems. + +‘Whatever be the justice of the case,’ said Honain to Abdallah, ‘art +thou ready to part with this ring for a thousand dirhems?’ + +‘Most certainly,’ said Abdallah. ‘And thou, lad, if the decision be in +thy favour, wilt thou take for the ring double the worth at which the +jeweller prizes it?’ + +‘My lord, I have spoken the truth. I cannot part with that ring for the +palace of the Caliph.’ + +‘The truth for once is triumphant,’ said Honain. ‘Boy, the ring is +thine; and for thee, thou knave,’ turning to Abdallah, ‘liar, thief, and +slanderer!--for thee the bastinado,[21] which thou destinedst for +this innocent youth. Ibrahim, see that he receives five hundred. Young +pilgrim, thou art no longer destitute or friendless. Follow me to my +palace.’ + +The arched chamber was of great size and beautiful proportion. The +ceiling, encrusted with green fretwork, and studded with silver stars, +rested upon clustered columns of white and green marble. In the centre +of a variegated pavement of the same material, a fountain rose and fell +into a green porphyry basin, and by the side of the fountain, upon a +couch of silver, reposed Honain. + +He raised his eyes from the illuminated volume on which he had been long +intent; he clapped his hands, and a Nubian slave advanced, and, folding +his arms upon his breast, bowed in silence before his lord. ‘How fares +the Hebrew boy, Analschar?’ + +‘Master, the fever has not returned. We gave him the potion; he +slumbered for many hours, and has now awakened, weak but well.’ + +‘Let him rise and attend me.’ + +The Nubian disappeared. + +‘There is nothing stranger than sympathy,’ soliloquised the physician +of the Caliph, with a meditative air; ‘all resolves itself into this +principle, and I confess this learned doctor treats it deeply and well. +An erudite spirit truly, and an eloquent pen; yet he refines too +much. ‘Tis too scholastic. Observation will teach us more than dogma. +Meditating upon my passionate youth, I gathered wisdom. I have seen so +much that I have ceased to wonder. However we doubt, there is a mystery +beyond our penetration. And yet ‘tis near our grasp. I sometimes deem a +step, a single step, would launch us into light. Here comes my patient. +The rose has left his cheek, and his deep brow is wan and melancholy. +Yet ‘tis a glorious visage, Meditation’s throne; and Passion lingers in +that languid eye. I know not why, a strong attraction draws me to this +lone child. + +‘Gentle stranger, how fares it with thee?’ + +‘Very well, my lord. I come to thank thee for all thy goodness. My only +thanks are words, and those too weak; and yet the orphan’s blessing is a +treasure.’ + +‘You are an orphan, then’ + +‘I have no parent but my father’s God.’ + +‘And that God is----’ + +‘The God of Israel.’ + +‘So I deemed. He is a Deity we all must honour; if he be the great +Creator whom we all allow.’ + +‘He is what he is, and we are what we are, a fallen people, but faithful +still.’ + +‘Fidelity is strength.’ + +‘Thy words are truth, and strength must triumph.’ + +‘A prophecy!’ + +‘Many a prophet is little honoured, till the future proves his +inspiration.’ + +‘You are young and sanguine.’ + +‘So was my ancestor within the vale of Elah. But I speak unto a Moslem, +and this is foolishness.’ + +‘I have read something, and can take your drift. As for my faith, I +believe in truth, and wish all men to do the same. By-the-bye, might I +inquire the name of him who is the inmate of my house?’ + +‘They call me David.’ + +‘David, you have a ring, an emerald cut with curious characters, Hebrew, +I believe.’ + +‘‘Tis here.’ + +‘A fine stone, and this inscription means----’ + +‘A simple legend, “_Parted, but one_;” the kind memorial of a brother’s +love.’ + +‘Your brother?’ + +‘I never had a brother.’ + +‘I have a silly fancy for this ring: you hesitate. Search my palace, and +choose the treasure you deem its match.’ + +‘Noble sir, the gem is little worth; but were it such might deck a +Caliph’s brow, ‘twere a poor recompense for all thy goodness. This ring +is a trust rather than a possession, and strange to say, although I +cannot offer it to thee who mayst command, as thou hast saved, the life +of its unhappy wearer, some stranger may cross my path to-morrow, and +almost claim it as his own.’ + +‘And that stranger is----’ + +‘The brother of the donor.’ + +‘The brother of Jabaster?’ + +‘Jabaster!’ + +‘Even so. I am that parted brother.’ + +‘Great is the God of Israel! Take the ring. But what is this? the +brother of Jabaster a turbaned chieftain! a Moslem! Say, but say, that +thou hast not assumed their base belief; say, but say, that thou hast +not become a traitor to our covenant, and I will bless the fortunes of +this hour.’ + +‘I am false to no God. Calm thyself, sweet youth. These are higher +questions than thy faint strength can master now. Another time we’ll +talk of this, my boy; at present of my brother and thyself. He lives and +prospers?’ + +‘He lives in faith; the pious ever prosper.’ + +‘A glorious dreamer! Though our moods are different, I ever loved him. +And thyself? Thou art not what thou seemest. Tell me all. Jabaster’s +friend can be no common mind. Thy form has heralded thy fame. Trust me.’ + +‘I am Alroy.’ + +‘What! the Prince of our Captivity?’ + +‘Even so.’ + +‘The slayer of Alschiroch?’ + +‘Ay!’ + +‘My sympathy was prophetic. I loved thee from the first. And what dost +thou here? A price is set upon thy head: thou knowest it?’ + +‘For the first time; but I am neither astonished nor alarmed. I am upon +the Lord’s business.’ + +‘What wouldst thou?’ + +‘Free his people.’ + +‘The pupil of Jabaster: I see it all. Another victim to his reveries. +I’ll save this boy. David,--for thy name must not be sounded within this +city,--the sun is dying. Let us to the terrace, and seek the solace of +the twilight breeze.’ + +‘What is the hour, David?’ + +‘Near to midnight. I marvel if thy brother may read in the stars our +happy meeting.’ + +‘Men read that which they wish. He is a learned Cabalist.’ + +‘But what we wish comes from above.’ + +‘So they say. We make our fortunes, and we call them Fate.’ + +‘Yet the Voice sounded, the Daughter of the Voice that summoned Samuel.’ + +‘You have told me strange things; I have heard stranger solved.’ + +‘My faith is a rock.’ + +‘On which you may split.’ + +‘Art thou a Sadducee?’ + +‘I am a man who knows men.’ + +‘You are learned, but different from Jabaster.’ + +‘We are the same, though different. Day and Night are both portions of +Time.’ + +‘And thy portion is----’ + +‘Truth.’ + +‘That is, light.’ + +‘Yes; so dazzling that it sometimes seems dark.’ + +‘Like thy meaning.’ + +‘You are young.’ + +‘Is youth a defect?’ + +‘No, the reverse. But we cannot eat the fruit while the tree is in +blossom.’ + +‘What fruit?’ + +‘Knowledge.’ + +‘I have studied.’ + +‘What?’ + +‘All sacred things.’ + +‘How know you that they are sacred?’ + +‘They come from God.’ + +‘So does everything. Is everything sacred?’ + +‘They are the deep expression of his will.’ + +‘According to Jabaster. Ask the man who prays in yonder mosque, and he +will tell you that Jabaster’s wrong.’ + +‘After all, thou art a Moslem?’ + +‘No.’ + +‘What then?’ + +‘I have told you, a man.’ + +‘But what dost thou worship?’ + +‘What is worship?’ + +‘Adoration due from the creature to the Creator.’ + +‘Which is he?’ + +‘Our God.’ + +‘The God of Israel?’ + +‘Even so.’ + +‘A frail minority, then, burn incense to him.’ + +‘We are the chosen people.’ + +‘Chosen for scoffs, and scorns, and contumelies. Commend me to such +choice.’ + +‘We forgot Him, before He chastened us.’ + +‘Why did we?’ + +‘Thou knowest the records of our holy race.’ + +‘Yes, I know them; like all records, annals of blood.’ + +‘Annals of victory, that will dawn again.’ + +‘If redemption be but another name for carnage, I envy no Messiah.’ + +‘Art thou Jabaster’s brother?’ ‘So our mother was wont to say: a meek +and blessed woman.’ + +‘Lord Honain, thou art rich, and wise, and powerful. Thy fellow-men +speak of thee only with praise or fear, and both are cheering. Thou +hast quitted our antique ark; why, no matter. We’ll not discuss it. ‘Tis +something; if a stranger, at least thou art not a renegade. The world +goes well with thee, my Lord Honain. But if, instead of bows and +blessings, thou, like thy brethren, wert greeted only with the cuff +and curse; if thou didst rise each morning only to feel existence to +be dishonour, and to find thyself marked out among surrounding men as +something foul and fatal; if it were thy lot, like theirs, at best to +drag on a mean and dull career, hopeless and aimless, or with no other +hope or aim but that which is degrading, and all this, too, with a keen +sense of thy intrinsic worth, and a deep conviction of superior race; +why, then, perchance, Honain might even discover ‘twere worth a struggle +to be free and honoured.’ ‘I pray your pardon, sir; I thought you were +Jabaster’s pupil, a dreaming student. I see you have a deep ambition.’ + +‘I am a prince; and I fain would be a prince without my fetters.’ + +‘Listen to me, Alroy,’ said Honain in a low voice, and he placed his +arm around him, ‘I am your friend. Our acquaintance is very brief: no +matter, I love you; I rescued you in injury, I tended you in sickness, +even now your life is in my power, I would protect it with my own. You +cannot doubt me. Our affections are not under our own control; and mine +are yours. The sympathy between us is entire. You see me, you see what I +am; a Hebrew, though unknown; one of that despised, rejected, persecuted +people, of whom you are the chief. I too would be free and honoured. +Freedom and honour are mine, but I was my own messiah. I quitted in +good time our desperate cause, but I gave it a trial. Ask Jabaster how I +fought. Youth could be my only excuse for such indiscretion. I left +this country; I studied and resided among the Greeks. I returned from +Constantinople, with all their learning, some of their craft. No one +knew me. I assumed their turban, and I am the Lord Honain. Take my +experience, child, and save yourself much sorrow. Turn your late +adventure to good account. No one can recognise you here. I will +introduce you amongst the highest as my child by some fair Greek. The +world is before you. You may fight, you may love, you may revel. War, +and Women, and luxury are all at your command. With your person and +talents you may be grand vizir. Clear your head of nonsense. In the +present disordered state of the empire, you may even carve yourself out +a kingdom, infinitely more delightful than the barren land of milk and +honey. I have seen it, child; a rocky wilderness, where I would not let +my courser graze.’ + +He bent down, and fixed his eyes upon his companion with a scrutinising +glance. The moonlight fell upon the resolved visage of the Prince of the +Captivity. + +‘Honain,’ he replied, pressing his hand, ‘I thank thee. Thou knowest not +me, but still I thank thee.’ + +‘You are resolved, then, on destruction.’ + +‘On glory, eternal glory.’ + +‘Is it possible to succeed?’ + +‘Is it possible to fail?’ + +‘You are mad.’ + +‘I am a believer.’ + +‘Enough. You have yet one chance. My brother has saddled your enterprise +with a condition, and an impossible one. Gain the sceptre of Solomon, +and I will agree to be your subject. You will waste a year in this +frolic. You are young, and can afford it. I trust you will experience +nothing worse than a loss of time, which is, however, valuable. My duty +will be, after all your sufferings, to send you forth on your adventures +in good condition, and to provide you means for a less toilsome +pilgrimage than has hitherto been your lot. Trust me, you will return to +Bagdad to accept my offers. At present, the dews are descending, and we +will return to our divan, and take some coffee.’ + +Some few days after this conversation on the terrace, as Alroy was +reclining in a bower, in the beautiful garden of his host, meditating +on the future, some one touched him on the back. He looked up. It was +Honain. + +‘Follow me,’ said the brother of Jabaster. + +The Prince rose, and followed him in silence. They entered the house, +and, passing through the saloon already described, they proceeded down +a long gallery, which terminated in an arched flight of broad steps +leading to the river. A boat was fastened to the end of the stairs, +floating on the blue line of the Tigris, bright in the sun. + +Honain now gave to Alroy a velvet bag, which he requested him to carry, +and then they descended the steps and entered the covered boat; and, +without any directions to the rower, they were soon skimming over the +water. By the sound of passing vessels, and the occasional shouts of the +boatmen, Alroy, although he could observe nothing, was conscious that +for some time their course lay through a principal thoroughfare of +the city; but by degrees the sounds became less frequent, and in time +entirely died away, and all that caught his ear was the regular and +monotonous stroke of their own oar. + +At length, after the lapse of nearly an hour from their entrance, +the boat stopped, and was moored against a quay. The curtains were +withdrawn, and Honain and his companion debarked. + +A low but extensive building, painted in white and gold arabesque, and +irregular but picturesque in form, with many small domes, and tall thin +towers, rose amid groves of cypress on the bank of the broad and silent +river. The rapid stream had carried them far from the city, which was +visible but distant. Around was no habitation, no human being. The +opposite bank was occupied by enclosed gardens. Not even a boat passed. + +Honain, beckoning to Alroy to accompany him, but still silent, advanced +to a small portal, and knocked. It was instantly opened by a single +Nubian, who bowed reverently as the visitors passed him. They proceeded +along a low and gloomy passage, covered with arches of fretwork, until +they arrived at a door of tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl.[22] Here +Honain, who was in advance, turned round to Alroy, and said, ‘Whatever +happen, and whoever may address you, as you value your life and mine, do +not speak.’ + +The door opened, and they found themselves in a vast and gorgeous hall. +Pillars of many-coloured marbles rose from a red and blue pavement +of the same material, and supported a vaulted, circular, and +highly-embossed roof of purple, scarlet, and gold.[23] Around a +fountain, which rose fifty feet in height from an immense basin of +lapis-lazuli, and reclining on small yellow Barbary mats, was a group +of Nubian eunuchs, dressed in rich habits of scarlet and gold,[24] +and armed with ivory battle-axes, the white handles worked in precious +arabesque finely contrasting with the blue and brilliant blades. + +The commander of the eunuch-guard rose on seeing Honain, and pressing +his hand to his head, mouth, and heart, saluted him. The physician of +the Caliph, motioning Alroy to remain, advanced some paces in front of +him, and entered into a whispering conversation with the eunuch. After +a few minutes, this officer resumed his seat, and Honain, beckoning to +Alroy to rejoin him, crossed the hall. + +Passing through an open arch, they entered a quadrangular court of +roses,[25] each bed of flowers surrounded by a stream of sparkling +water, and floating like an enchanted islet upon a fairy ocean. The +sound of the water and the sweetness of the flowers blended together, +and produced a lulling sensation, which nothing but his strong and +strange curiosity might have enabled Alroy to resist. Proceeding along +a cloister of light airy workmanship which connected the hall with the +remainder of the buildings, they stood before a lofty and sumptuous +portal. + +It was a monolith gate, thirty feet in height, formed of one block of +green and red jasper, and cut into the fanciful undulating arch of the +Saracens. The consummate artist had seized the advantage afforded to him +by the ruddy veins of the precious stone, and had formed them in bold +relief into two vast and sinuous serpents, which shot forth their +crested heads and glittering eyes at Honain and his companion. + +The physician of the Caliph, taking his dagger from his girdle, struck +the head of one of the serpents thrice. The massy portal opened with a +whirl and a roar, and before them stood an Abyssinian giant,[26] holding +in his leash a roaring lion. + +‘Hush, Haroun!’ said Honain to the animal, raising at the same time his +arm; and the beast crouched in silence. ‘Worthy Morgargon, I bring you +a remembrance.’ The Abyssinian showed his tusks, larger and whiter than +the lion’s, as he grinningly received the tribute of the courtly Honain; +and he uttered a few uncouth sounds, but he could not speak, for he was +a mute. + +The jasper portal introduced the companions to a long and lofty and +arched chamber, lighted by high windows of stained glass, hung with +tapestry of silk and silver, covered with prodigious carpets, and +surrounded by immense couches. And thus through similar chambers they +proceeded, in some of which were signs of recent habitation, until they +arrived at another quadrangle nearly filled by a most singular fountain +which rose from a basin of gold encrusted with pearls, and which was +surrounded by figures of every rare quadruped[27] in the most costly +materials. Here a golden tiger, with flaming eyes of ruby and flowing +stripes of opal, stole, after some bloody banquet, to the refreshing +brink; a camelopard raised its slender neck of silver from the centre +of a group of every inhabitant of the forest; and brilliant bands of +monkeys, glittering with precious stones, rested, in every variety of +fantastic posture, on the margin of the basin. + +The fountain itself was a tree of gold and silver[28] spreading into +innumerable branches, covered with every variety of curious birds, their +plumage appropriately imitated by the corresponding tints of precious +stones, which warbled in beautiful melody as they poured forth from +their bills the musical and refreshing element. + +It was with difficulty that Alroy could refrain from an admiring +exclamation, but Honain, ever quick, turned to him, with his finger +pressed on his mouth, and quitting the quadrangle, they entered the +gardens. + +Lofty terraces, dark masses of cypress, winding walks of acacia, in +the distance an interminable paradise, and here and there a glittering +pavilion and bright kiosk! Its appearance on the river had not prepared +Alroy for the extent of the palace itself. It seemed infinite, and it +was evident that he had only viewed a small portion of it. While they +were moving on, there suddenly rose a sound of trumpets. The sound grew +nearer and nearer, louder and louder: soon was heard the tramp of +an approaching troop. Honain drew Alroy aside. A procession appeared +advancing from a dark grove of cypress. Four hundred men led as many +white bloodhounds with collars of gold and rubies.[29] Then came one +hundred men, each with a hooded hawk; then six horsemen in rich dresses; +after them a single horseman, mounted on a steed, marked on its forehead +with a star.[30] The rider was middle-aged, handsome, and dignified. He +was plainly dressed, but the staff of his hunting-spear was entirely of +diamonds and the blade of gold. + +He was followed by a company of Nubian eunuchs, with their scarlet +dresses and ivory battle-axes, and the procession closed. + +‘The Caliph,’ whispered Honain, when they had passed, placing at the +same time his finger on his lip to prevent any inquiry. This was +the first intimation that had reached Alroy of what he had already +suspected, that he was a visitor to the palace of the Commander of the +Faithful. + +The companions turned down a wild and winding walk, which, after some +time, brought them to a small and gently sloping lawn, surrounded +by cedar-trees of great size. Upon the lawn was a kiosk, a long and +many-windowed building, covered with blinds, and further screened by +an overhanging roof. The kiosk was built of white and green marble, +the ascent to it was by a flight of steps the length of the building, +alternately of white and green marble, and nearly covered with +rose-trees. Honain went up these steps alone, and entered the kiosk. +After a few minutes he looked out from the blinds and beckoned to Alroy. +David advanced, but Honain, fearful of some indiscretion, met him, and +said to him in a low whisper between his teeth, ‘Remember you are deaf, +a mute, and a eunuch.’ Alroy could scarcely refrain from smiling, and +the Prince of the Captivity and the physician of the Caliph entered +the kiosk together. Two women, veiled, and two eunuchs of the guard, +received them in an antechamber. And then they passed into a room which +ran nearly the whole length of the kiosk, opening on one side to the +gardens, and on the other supported by an ivory wall, with niches +painted in green fresco, and in each niche a rose-tree. Each niche, +also, was covered with an almost invisible golden grate, which confined +a nightingale, and made him constant to the rose he loved. At the foot +of each niche was a fountain, but, instead of water, each basin was +replenished with the purest quicksilver.[31] The roof of the kiosk was +of mother-of-pearl inlaid with tortoise-shell; the pavement, a mosaic of +rare marbles and precious stones, representing the most delicious fruits +and the most beautiful flowers. Over this pavement, a Georgian page +flung at intervals refreshing perfumes. At the end of this elegant +chamber was a divan of light green silk, embroidered with pearls, +and covered with cushions of white satin and gold. Upon one of these +cushions, in the middle of the divan, sat a lady, her eyes fixed in +abstraction upon a volume of Persian poetry lying on her knees, one hand +playing with a rosary of pearls and emeralds,[32] and the other holding +a long gold chain, which imprisoned a white gazelle. + +The lady looked up as Honain and his companion entered. She was very +young, as youthful as Alroy. Her long light brown hair, drawn off a high +white forehead covered with blue veins, fell braided with pearls over +each shoulder. Her eyes were large and deeply blue; her nose small, but +high and aquiline. The fairness of her face was dazzling, and, when she +looked up and greeted Honain, her lustrous cheeks broke into dimples, +the more fascinating from their contrast with the general expression of +her countenance, which was haughty and derisive. The lady was dressed +in a robe of crimson silk girded round her waist by a green shawl, from +which peeped forth the diamond hilt of a small poniard.[33] Her round +white arms looked infinitely small, as they occasionally flashed forth +from their large loose hanging sleeves. One was covered with jewels, and +the right arm was quite bare. + +Honain advanced, and, bending, kissed the lady’s proffered hand. Alroy +fell into the background. + +‘They told me that the Rose of the World drooped this morning,’ said the +physician, bending again as he smiled, ‘and her slave hastened at her +command to tend her.’ + +‘It was a south wind. The wind has changed, and the Rose of the World is +better,’ replied the lady laughing. + +Honain touched her pulse. + +‘Irregular,’ said the physician. + +‘Like myself,’ said the lady. ‘Is that a new slave?’ + +‘A recent purchase, and a great bargain. He is good-looking, has the +advantage of being deaf and dumb, and is harmless in every respect.’ + +‘‘Tis a pity,’ replied the lady; ‘it seems that all good-looking people +are born to be useless. I, for instance.’ + +‘Yet rumour whispers the reverse,’ remarked the physician. + +‘How so?’ inquired the lady. + +‘The young King of Karasmé.’ + +‘Poh! I have made up my mind to detest him. A barbarian!’ + +‘A hero!’ + +‘Have you ever seen him?’ + +‘I have.’ + +‘Handsome?’ + +‘An archangel.’ + +‘And sumptuous?’ + +‘Is he not a conqueror? All the plunder of the world will be yours.’ + +‘I am tired of magnificence. I built this kiosk to forget it.’ + +‘It is not in the least degree splendid,’ said Honain, looking round +with a smile. + +‘No,’ answered the lady, with a self-satisfied air: ‘here, at least, one +can forget one has the misfortune to be a princess.’ + +‘It is certainly a great misfortune,’ said the physician. + +‘And yet it must be the only tolerable lot,’ replied the lady. + +‘Assuredly,’ replied Honain. + +‘For our unhappy sex, at least.’ + +‘Very unhappy.’ + +‘If I were only a man!’ + +‘What a hero you would be!’ + +‘I should like to live in endless confusion.’ + +‘I have not the least doubt of it.’ + +‘Have you got me the books?’ eagerly inquired the Princess. + +‘My slave bears them,’ replied Honain. + +‘Let me see them directly.’ + +Honain took the bag from Alroy, and unfolded its contents; the very +volumes of Greek romances which Ali, the merchant, had obtained for him. + +‘I am tired of poetry,’ said the Princess, glancing over the costly +volumes, and tossing them away; ‘I long to see the world.’ + +‘You would soon be tired of that,’ replied the physician. + +‘I suppose common people are never tired.’ said the Princess. + +‘Except with labour;’ said the physician; ‘care keeps them alive.’ + +‘What is care?’ asked the Princess, with a smile. + +‘It is a god,’ replied the physician, ‘invisible, but omnipotent. It +steals the bloom from the cheek and lightness from the pulse; it takes +away the appetite, and turns the hair grey.’ + +‘It is no true divinity, then,’ replied the Princess, ‘but an idol we +make ourselves. I am a sincere Moslem, and will not worship it. Tell me +some news, Honain.’ + +‘The young King of Karasmé----’ + +‘Again! the barbarian! You are in his pay. I’ll none of him. To leave +one prison, and to be shut up in another,--why do you remind me of it? +No, my dear Hakim, if I marry at all, I will marry to be free.’ + +‘An impossibility,’ said Honain. + +‘My mother was free till she was a queen and a slave. I intend to end as +she began. You know what she was.’ + +Honain knew well, but he was too politic not to affect ignorance. + +‘The daughter of a bandit,’ continued the Princess, ‘who fought by the +side of her father. That is existence! I must be a robber. ‘Tis in the +blood. I want my fate foretold, Honain. You are an astrologer; do it.’ + +‘I have already cast your nativity. Your star is à comet.’ + +‘That augurs well; brilliant confusion and erratic splendour. I wish +I were a star,’ added the Princess in a deep rich voice, and with a +pensive air; ‘a star in the clear blue sky, beautiful and free. Honain, +Honain, the gazelle has broken her chain, and is eating my roses.’ + +Alroy rushed forward and seized the graceful truant. Honain shot him an +anxious look; the Princess received the chain from the hand of Alroy, +and cast at him a scrutinising glance. + +‘What splendid eyes the poor beast has got!’ exclaimed the Princess. + +‘The gazelle?’ inquired the physician. + +‘No, your slave,’ replied the Princess. ‘Why, he blushes. Were he not +deaf as well as dumb, I could almost believe he understood me.’ + +‘He is modest,’ replied Honain, rather alarmed; ‘and is frightened at +the liberty he has taken.’ + +‘I like modesty,’ said the Princess; ‘it is interesting. I am modest; +you think so?’ + +‘Certainly,’ said Honain. + +‘And interesting?’ + +‘Very.’ + +‘I detest an interesting person. After all, there is nothing like plain +dulness.’ + +‘Nothing,’ said Honain. + +‘The day flows on so serenely in such society.’ + +‘It does,’ said Honain. + +‘No confusion; no scenes.’ + +‘None.’ + +‘I make it a rule only to have ugly slaves.’ + +‘You are quite right.’ + +‘Honain, will you ever contradict me? You know very well I have the +handsomest slaves in the world.’ + +‘Every one knows it.’ + +‘And, do you know, I have taken a great fancy to your new purchase, who, +according to your account, is eminently qualified for the post. Why, do +you not agree with me?’ + +‘Why, yes; I doubt not your Highness would find him eminently qualified, +and certainly few things would give me greater pleasure than offering +him for your acceptance; but I got into such disgrace by that late +affair of the Circassian, that----’ + +‘Oh! leave it to me,’ said the Princess. + +‘Certainly,’ said the physician, turning the conversation; ‘and when +the young King of Karasmé arrives at Bagdad, you can offer him to his +majesty as a present.’ + +‘Delightful! and the king is really handsome and young as well as brave; +but has he any taste?’ + +‘You have enough for both.’ + +‘If he would but make war against the Greeks!’ + +‘Why so violent against the poor Greeks?’ + +‘You know they are Giaours. Besides, they might beat him, and then I +should have the pleasure of being taken prisoner.’ + +‘Delightful!’ + +‘Charming! to see Constantinople, and marry the Emperor.’ + +‘Marry the Emperor!’ + +‘To be sure. Of course he would fall in love with me.’ + +‘Of course.’ + +‘And then, and then, I might conquer Paris!’ + +‘Paris!’ + +‘You have been at Paris?’[34] + +‘Yes.’ + +‘The men are shut up there,’ said the Princess with a smile, ‘are they +not? and the women do what they like?’ + +‘You will always do what you like,’ said Honain, rising. + +‘You are going?’ + +‘My visits must not be too long.’ + +‘Farewell, dear Honain!’ said the Princess, with a melancholy air. ‘You +are the only person who has an idea in all Bagdad, and you leave me. A +miserable lot is mine, to feel everything, and be nothing. These books +and flowers, these sweet birds, and this fair gazelle: ah! poets may +feign as they please, but how cheerfully would I resign all these +elegant consolations of a captive life for one hour of freedom! I wrote +some verses on myself yesterday; take them, and get them blazoned for me +by the finest scribe in the city; letters of silver on a violet ground +with a fine flowing border; I leave the design to you. Adieu! Come +hither, mute.’ Alroy advanced to her beckon, and knelt. ‘There, take +that rosary for thy master’s sake, and those dark eyes of thine.’ + +The companions withdrew, and reached their boat in silence. It was +sunset. The musical and sonorous voice of the Muezzin resounded from +the innumerable minarets of the splendid city. Honain threw back the +curtains of the barque. Bagdad rose before them in huge masses of +sumptuous dwellings, seated amid groves and gardens. An infinite +population, summoned by the invigorating twilight, poured forth in all +directions. The glowing river was covered with sparkling caiques, the +glittering terraces with showy groups. Splendour, and power, and luxury, +and beauty were arrayed before them in their most captivating forms, and +the heart of Alroy responded to their magnificence. ‘A glorious vision!’ +said the Prince of the Captivity. + +‘Very different from Hamadan,’ said the physician of the Caliph. + +‘To-day I have seen wonders,’ said Alroy. + +‘The world is opening to you,’ said Honain. + +Alroy did not reply; but after some minutes he said, in a hesitating +voice, ‘Who was that lady?’ + +‘The Princess Schirene,’ replied Honain, ‘the favourite daughter of the +Caliph. Her mother was a Georgian and a Giaour.’ + +The moonlight fell upon the figure of Alroy lying on a couch; his face +was hidden by his arm. He was motionless, but did not sleep. + +He rose and paced the chamber with agitated steps; sometimes he stopped, +and gazed on the pavement, fixed in abstraction. He advanced to the +window, and cooled his feverish brow in the midnight air. + +An hour passed away, and the young Prince of the Captivity remained +fixed in the same position. Suddenly he turned to a tripod of porphyry, +and, seizing a rosary of jewels, pressed it to his lips. + +‘The Spirit of my dreams, she comes at last; the form for which I have +sighed and wept; the form which rose upon my radiant vision when I shut +my eyes against the jarring shadows of this gloomy world. + +‘Schirene! Schirene! here in this solitude I pour to thee the passion +long stored up: the passion of my life, no common life, a life full of +deep feeling and creative thought. O beautiful! O more than beautiful! +for thou to me art as a dream unbroken: why art thou not mine? why lose +a moment in our glorious lives, and balk our destiny of half its bliss? + +‘Fool, fool, hast thou forgotten? The rapture of a prisoner in his cell, +whose wild fancy for a moment belies his fetters! The daughter of the +Caliph and a Jew! + +‘Give me my fathers’ sceptre. + +‘A plague on talismans! Oh! I need no inspiration but her memory, +no magic but her name. By heavens! I will enter this glorious city a +conqueror, or die. + +‘Why, what is Life? for meditation mingles ever with my passion: why, +what is Life? Throw accidents to the dogs, and tear off the painted +mask of false society! Here am I a hero; with a mind that can devise all +things, and a heart of superhuman daring, with youth, with vigour, with +a glorious lineage, with a form that has made full many a lovely +maiden of our tribe droop her fair head by Hamadan’s sweet fount, and I +am--nothing! + +‘Out on Society! ‘twas not made for me. I’ll form my own, and be the +deity I sometimes feel. + +‘We make our fortunes, and we call them Fate. Thou saidst well, Honain. +Most subtle Sadducee! The saintly blood flowed in my fathers’ veins, +and they did nothing; but I have an arm formed to wield a sceptre, and I +will win one. + +‘I cannot doubt my triumph. Triumph is a part of my existence. I am +born for glory, as a tree is born to bear its fruit, or to expand +its flowers. The deed is done. ‘Tis thought of, and ‘tis done. I will +confront the greatest of my diademed ancestors, and in his tomb. Mighty +Solomon! he wedded Pharaoh’s daughter. Hah! what a future dawns upon my +hope. An omen, a choice omen! + +‘Heaven and earth are mingling to form my fortunes. My mournful +youth, which I have so often cursed, I hail thee: thou wert a glorious +preparation; and when feeling no sympathy with the life around me, +I deemed myself a fool, I find that I was a most peculiar being. By +heavens, I am joyful; for the first time in my life I am joyful. I could +laugh, and fight, and drink. I am new-born; I am another being; I am +mad! + +‘O Time, great Time! the world belies thy fame. It calls thee swift. +Methinks thou art wondrous slow. Fly on, great Time, and on thy coming +wings bear me my sceptre! + +‘All is to be. It is a lowering thought. My fancy, like a bright and +wearied bird, will sometimes flag and fall, and then I am lost. The +young King of Karasmé, a youthful hero! Would he had been Alschiroch! My +heart is sick even at the very name. Alas! my trials have not yet begun. +Jabaster warned me: good, sincere Jabaster! His talisman presses on my +frantic heart, and seems to warn me. I am in danger. Braggart to +stand here, filling the careless air with idle words, while all is +unaccomplished. I grow dull. The young King of Karasmé! Why, what am I +compared to this same prince? Nothing, but in my thoughts. In the full +bazaar, they would not deem me worthy even to hold his stirrup or +his slipper---- Oh! this contest, this constant, bitter, never-ending +contest between my fortune and my fancy! Why do I exist? or, if +existing, why am I not recognised as I would be? + +‘Sweet voice, that in Jabaster’s distant cave de-scendedst from thy holy +home above, and whispered consolation, breathe again! Again breathe thy +still summons to my lonely ear, and chase away the thoughts that hover +round me; thoughts dark and doubtful, like fell birds of prey hovering +around a hero in expectation of his fall, and gloating on their triumph +over the brave. There is something fatal in these crowded cities. Faith +flourishes in solitude.’ + +He threw himself upon the couch, and, leaning down his head, seemed lost +in meditation. He started up, and, seizing his tablets, wrote upon them +these words: + +‘Honain, I have been the whole night like David in the wilderness of +Ziph; but, by the aid of the Lord, I have conquered. I fly from this +dangerous city upon his business, which I have too much neglected. +Attempt not to discover me, and accept my gratitude.’ + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + _The Learned Rabbi Zimri._ + +A SCORCHING sun, a blue and burning sky, on every side lofty ranges of +black and barren mountains, dark ravines, deep caverns, unfathomable +gorges! A solitary being moved in the distance. Faint and toiling, a +pilgrim slowly clambered up the steep and stony track. + +The sultry hours moved on; the pilgrim at length gained the summit of +the mountain, a small and rugged table-land, strewn with huge masses +of loose and heated, rock. All around was desolation: no spring, no +herbage; the bird and the insect were alike mute. Still it was the +summit: no loftier peaks frowned in the distance; the pilgrim stopped, +and breathed with more facility, and a faint smile played over his +languid and solemn countenance. + +He rested a few minutes; he took from his wallet some locusts and wild +honey, and a small skin of water. His meal was short as well as simple. +An ardent desire to reach his place of destination before nightfall +urged him to proceed. He soon passed over the table-land, and commenced +the descent of the mountain. A straggling olive-tree occasionally +appeared, and then a group, and soon the groups swelled into a grove. +His way wound through the grateful and unaccustomed shade. He emerged +from the grove, and found that he had proceeded down more than half +the side of the mountain. It ended precipitously in a dark and narrow +ravine, formed on the other side by an opposite mountain, the lofty +steep of which was crested by a city gently rising on a gradual slope. + +Nothing could be conceived more barren, wild, and terrible than the +surrounding scenery, unillumined by a single trace of culture. The city +stood like the last gladiator in an amphitheatre of desolation. + +It was surrounded by a lofty turreted wall, of an architecture to which +the pilgrim was unaccustomed: gates with drawbridge and portcullis, +square towers, and loopholes for the archer. Sentinels, clothed in steel +and shining in the sunset, paced, at regular intervals, the cautious +wall, and on a lofty tower a standard waved, a snowy standard, with a +red, red cross! + +The Prince of the Captivity at length beheld the lost capital of his +fathers.[35] + +A few months back, and such a spectacle would have called forth all the +latent passion of Alroy; but time and suffering, and sharp experience, +had already somewhat curbed the fiery spirit of the Hebrew Prince. He +gazed upon Jerusalem, he beheld the City of David garrisoned by the +puissant warriors of Christendom, and threatened by the innumerable +armies of the Crescent. The two great divisions of the world seemed +contending for a prize, which he, a lonely wanderer, had crossed the +desert to rescue. + +If his faith restrained him from doubting the possibility of his +enterprise, he was at least deeply conscious that the world was a very +different existence from what he had fancied amid the gardens of +Hamadan and the rocks of Caucasus, and that if his purpose could be +accomplished, it could only be effected by one means. Calm, perhaps +somewhat depressed, but full of pious humiliation, and not deserted by +holy hope, he descended into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and so, slaking +his thirst at Siloah, and mounting the opposite height, David Alroy +entered Jerusalem by the gate of Zion.[36] + +He had been instructed that the quarter allotted to his people was near +this entrance. He inquired the direction of the sentinel, who did not +condescend to answer him. An old man, in shabby robes, who was passing, +beckoned to him. + +‘What want you, friend?’ inquired Alroy. + +‘You were asking for the quarter of our people. You must be à stranger, +indeed, in Jerusalem, to suppose that a Frank would speak to a Jew. You +were lucky to get neither kicked nor cursed.’ + +‘Kicked and cursed! Why, these dogs----’ + +‘Hush! hush! for the love of God,’ said his new companion, much alarmed. +‘Have you lent money to their captain that you speak thus? In Jerusalem +our people speak only in a whisper.’ + +‘No matter: the cure is not by words. Where is our quarter?’ + +‘Was the like ever seen! Why, he speaks as if he were a Frank. I save +him from having his head broken by a gauntlet, and----’ + +‘My friend, I am tired. Our quarter?’ + +‘Whom may you want?’ + +‘The Chief Rabbi.’ + +‘You bear letters to him?’ + +‘What is that to you?’ + +‘Hush! hush! You do not know what Jerusalem is, young man. You must not +think of going on in this way. Where do you come from?’ + +‘Bagdad.’ + +‘Bagdad! Jerusalem is not Bagdad. A Turk is a brute, but a Christian is +a demon.’ + +‘But our quarter, our quarter?’ + +‘Hush! you want the Chief Rabbi?’ + +‘Ay! ay!’ + +‘Rabbi Zimri?’ + +‘It may be so. I neither know nor care.’ + +‘Neither knows nor cares! This will never do; you must not go on in this +way at Jerusalem. You must not think of it.’ + +‘Fellow, I see thou art a miserable prattler. Show me our quarter, and I +will pay thee well, or be off.’ + +‘Be off! Art thou a Hebrew? to say “be off” to any one. You come from +Bagdad! I tell you what, go back to Bagdad. You will never do for +Jerusalem.’ + +‘Your grizzled beard protects you. Old fool, I am a pilgrim just +arrived, wearied beyond expression, and you keep me here listening to +your flat talk!’ + +‘Flat talk! Why! what would you?’ + +‘Lead me to the Rabbi Zimri, if that be his name.’ + +‘If that be his name! Why, every one knows Rabbi Zimri, the Chief Rabbi +of Jerusalem, the successor of Aaron. We have our temple yet, say what +they like. A very learned doctor is Rabbi Zimri.’ + +‘Wretched driveller. I am ashamed to lose my patience with such a +dotard.’ + +‘Driveller! dotard! Why, who are you?’ + +‘One you cannot comprehend. Without another word, lead me to your +chief.’ + +‘Chief! you have not far to go. I know no one of the nation who holds +his head higher than I do here, and they call me Zimri.’ + +‘What, the Chief Rabbi, that very learned doctor?’ + +‘No less; I thought you had heard of him.’ + +‘Let us forget the past, good Zimri. When great men play the incognito, +they must sometimes hear rough phrases. It is the Caliph’s lot as well +as yours. I am glad to make the acquaintance of so great a doctor. +Though young, and roughly habited, I have seen the world a little, and +may offer next Sabbath in the synagogue more dirhems than you would +perhaps suppose. Good and learned Zimri, I would be your guest.’ + +‘A very worshipful young man! And he speaks low and soft now! But it was +lucky I was at hand. Good, what’s your name?’ + +‘David.’ + +‘A very honest name, good David. It was lucky I was at hand when you +spoke to the sentinel, though. A Jew speak to a Frank, and a sentinel +too! Hah! hah! hah! that is good. How Rabbi Maimon will laugh! Faith it +was very lucky, now, was not it?’ + +‘Indeed, most fortunate.’ + +‘Well that is candid! Here! this way. ‘Tis not far. We number few, sir, +of our brethren here, but a better time will come, a better time will +come.’ + +‘I think so. This is your door?’ + +‘An humble one. Jerusalem is not Bagdad, but you are welcome.’ + +‘King Pirgandicus[37] entered them,’ said Rabbi Maimon, ‘but no one +since.’ + +‘And when did he live?’ inquired Alroy. ‘His reign is recorded in the +Talmud,’ answered Rabbi Zimri, ‘but in the Talmud there are no dates.’ +‘A long while ago?’ asked Alroy. ‘Since the Captivity,’ answered Rabbi +Maimon. ‘I doubt that,’ said Rabbi Zimri, ‘or why should he be called +king?’ + +‘Was he of the house of David?’ said Alroy. + +‘Without doubt,’ said Rabbi Maimon; ‘he was one of our greatest kings, +and conquered Julius Caesar.’[38] + +‘His kingdom was in the northernmost parts of Africa,’ said Rabbi Zimri, +‘and exists to this day, if we could but find it.’ + +‘Ay, truly,’ added Rabbi Maimon, ‘the sceptre has never departed out of +Judah; and he rode always upon a white elephant.’ + +‘Covered with cloth of gold,’ added Rabbi Zimri. ‘And he visited the +Tombs of the Kings?’[39] inquired Alroy. + +‘Without doubt,’ said Rabbi Maimon. ‘The whole account is in the +Talmud.’ + +‘And no one can now find them?’ ‘No one,’ replied Rabbi Zimri: ‘but, +according to that learned doctor, Moses Hallevy, they are in a valley in +the mountains of Lebanon, which was sealed up by the Archangel Michael.’ + +‘The illustrious Doctor Abarbanel, of Babylon,’ said Rabbi Maimon, +‘gives one hundred and twenty reasons in his commentary on the Gemara to +prove that they sunk under the earth at the taking of the Temple.’ + +‘No one reasons like Abarbanel of Babylon,’ said Rabbi Zimri. + +‘The great Rabbi Akiba, of Pundebita, has answered them all,’ said Rabbi +Maimon, ‘and holds that they were taken up to heaven.’ + +‘And which is right?’ inquired Rabbi Zimri. + +‘Neither,’ said Rabbi Maimon. + +‘One hundred and twenty reasons are strong proof,’ said Rabbi Zimri. + +‘The most learned and illustrious Doctor Aaron Mendola, of Granada,’ +said Rabbi Maimon, ‘has shown that we must look for the Tombs of the +Kings in the south of Spain.’ + +‘All that Mendola writes is worth attention,’ said Rabbi Zimri. + +‘Rabbi Hillel,[40] of Samaria, is worth two Mendolas any day,’ said +Rabbi Maimon. + +‘‘Tis a most learned doctor,’ said Rabbi Zimri; ‘and what thinks he?’ + +‘Hillel proves that there are two Tombs of the Kings,’ said Rabbi +Maimon, ‘and that neither of them are the right ones.’ + +‘What a learned doctor!’ exclaimed Rabbi Zimri. + +‘And very satisfactory,’ remarked Alroy. + +‘These are high subjects,’ continued Maimon, his blear eyes twinkling +with complacency. ‘Your guest, Rabbi Zimri, must read the treatise of +the learned Shimei, of Damascus, on “Effecting Impossibilities.”’ + +‘That is a work!’ exclaimed Zimri. + +‘I never slept for three nights after reading that work,’ said Rabbi +Maimon. ‘It contains twelve thousand five hundred and thirty-seven +quotations from the Pentateuch, and not a single original observation.’ + +‘There were giants in those days,’ said Rabbi Zimri; ‘we are children +now.’ + +‘The first chapter makes equal sense, read backward or forward,’ +continued Rabbi Maimon. ‘Ichabod!’ exclaimed Rabbi Zimri. ‘And the +initial letter of every section is a cabalistical type of a king of +Judah.’ + +‘The temple will yet be built,’ said Rabbi Zimri. ‘Ay, ay! that is +learning!’ exclaimed Rabbi Maimon; ‘but what is the great treatise on +“Effecting Impossibilities” to that profound, admirable, and----’ + +‘Holy Rabbi!’ said a youthful reader of the synagogue, who now entered, +‘the hour is at hand.’ + +‘You don’t say so! Learned Miamon, I must to the synagogue. I could sit +here all day listening to you. Come, David, the people await us.’ + +Zimri and Alroy quitted the house, and proceeded along the narrow hilly +streets to the chief temple of the Hebrews. + +‘It grieves the venerable Maimon much that he cannot join us,’ said +Rabbi Zimri. ‘You have doubtless heard of him at Bagdad; a most learned +doctor.’ Alroy bowed in silence. + +‘He bears his years well. You would hardly believe that he was my +master.’ + +‘I perceive that you inherit much of his erudition.’ + +‘You are kind. If he have breathed one year, Rabbi Maimon will be a +hundred and ten next Passover.’ + +‘I doubt it not.’ + +‘When he is gathered to his fathers, a great light will be extinguished +in Israel. You wanted to know something about the Tombs of the Kings; I +told you he was your man. How full he was! His mind, sir, is an egg.’ + +‘A somewhat ancient one. I fear his guidance will hardly bring me the +enviable fortune of King Pirgandicus.’ + +‘Between ourselves, good David, talking of King Pirgandicus, I cannot +help fancying that the learned Maimon made a slight mistake. I hold +Pirgandicus was only a prince. It was after the Captivity, and I know no +authority for any of our rulers since the destruction assuming a higher +title. Clearly a prince, eh? But, though I would whisper it to no +one but you, I think our worthy friend grows a little old. We should +remember his years, sir. A hundred and ten next Passover. ‘Tis a great +burden.’ + +‘Ay! with his learning added, a very fearful burden indeed!’ + +‘You have been a week in Jerusalem, and have not yet visited our +synagogue. It is not of cedar and ivory, but it is still a temple. This +way. It is only a week that you have been here? Why, you look another +man! I shall never forget our first meeting: you did not know me. That +was good, eh? And when I told you I was the chief Rabbi Zimri, how you +changed! You have quite regained your appetite. Ah! ‘tis pleasant to +mix once more with our own people. To the left. So! we must descend a +little. We hold our meetings in an ancient cemetery. You have a finer +temple, I warrant me, in Bagdad. Jerusalem is not Bagdad. But this has +its conveniences. ‘Tis safe, and we are not very rich, nor wish to seem +so.’ + +A long passage brought them to a number of small, square, low +chambers[41] leading into each other. They were lighted by brass lamps, +placed at intervals in vacant niches, that once held corpses, and +which were now soiled by the smoky flame. Between two and three +hundred individuals were assembled in these chambers, at first scarcely +distinguishable by those who descended from the broad daylight; but +by degrees the eyesight became accustomed to the dim and vaporous +atmosphere, and Al-roy recognised in the final and more illumined +chamber a high cedar cabinet, the type of the ark, and which held the +sacred vessels and the sanctified copy of the law. + +Standing in lines, with their heads mystically covered,[42] the forlorn +remnant of Israel, captives in their ancient city, avowed, in spite of +all their sufferings, their fidelity to their God, and, notwithstanding +all the bitterness of hope delayed, their faith in the fulfilment of his +promises. Their simple service was completed, their prayers were +read, their responses made, their law exhibited, and their charitable +offerings announced by their high priest. After the service, the +venerable Zimri, opening a volume of the Talmud, and fortified by the +opinions of all those illustrious and learned doctors, the heroes of +his erudite conversations with the aged Maimon, expounded the law to the +congregation of the people.[43] + +‘It is written,’ said the Rabbi, ‘“Thou shalt have none other God but +me.” Now know ye what our father Abraham said when Nimrod ordered him to +worship fire? “Why not water,” answered Abraham, “which can put out fire? +why not clouds, which can pour forth water? why not the winds, which can +produce clouds? why not God, which can create winds?”’ + +A murmur of approbation sounded throughout the congregation. + +‘Eliezer,’ said Zimri, addressing himself to a young Rabbi, ‘it is +written, that he took a rib from Adam when he was asleep. Is God then a +robber?’ + +The young Rabbi looked puzzled, and cast his eyes on the ground. The +congregation was perplexed and a little alarmed. + +‘Is there no answer?’ said Zimri. + +‘Rabbi,’ said a stranger, a tall, swarthy African pilgrim, standing in +a corner, and enveloped in a red mantle, over which a lamp threw a +flickering light; ‘Rabbi, some robbers broke into my house last night, +and stole an earthen pipkin, but they left a golden vase in its stead.’ + +‘It is well said; it is well said,’ exclaimed the congregation. The +applause was loud. + +‘Learned Zimri,’ continued the African, ‘it is written in the Gemara, +that there was a youth in Jerusalem who fell in love with a beautiful +damsel, and she scorned him. And the youth was so stricken with his +passion that he could not speak; but when he beheld her, he looked at +her imploringly, and she laughed. And one day the youth, not knowing +what to do with himself, went out into the desert; and towards night +he returned home, but the gates of the city were shut. And he went down +into the valley of Jehoshaphat, and entered the tomb of Absalom and +slept;[44] and he dreamed a dream; and next morning he came into the +city smiling. And the maiden met him, and she said, “Is that thou; art +thou a laugher?” and he answered, “Behold, yesterday being disconsolate, +I went out of the city into the desert, and I returned home, and +the gates of the city were shut, and I went down into the valley of +Jehoshaphat, and I entered the tomb of Absalom, and I slept, and I +dreamed a dream, and ever since then I have laughed.” And the damsel +said, “Tell me thy dream.” And he answered and said, “I may not tell my +dream only to my wife, for it regards her honour.” And the maiden grew +sad and curious, and said, “I am thy wife, tell me thy dream.” And +straightway they went and were married and ever after they both laughed. +Now, learned Zimri, what means this tale, an idle jest for a master of +the law, yet it is written by the greatest doctor of the Captivity?’ + +‘It passeth my comprehension,’ said the chief Rabbi. + +Rabbi Eliezer was silent; the congregation groaned. + +‘Now hear the interpretation,’ said the African. ‘The youth is our +people, and the damsel is our lost Sion, and the tomb of Absalom proves +that salvation can only come from the house of David. Dost thou hear +this, young man?’ said the African, coming forward and laying his hand +on Alroy. ‘I speak to thee, because I have observed a deep attention in +thy conduct.’ + +The Prince of the Captivity started, and shot a glance at the dark +visage before him, but the glance read nothing. The upper part of the +countenance of the African was half concealed by masses of dark matted +hair, and the lower by his uncouth robes. A flashing eye was its only +characteristic, which darted forth like lightning out of a black cloud. + +‘Is my attention the only reason that induces you to address me?’ +inquired Alroy. + +‘Whoever gave all his reasons?’ replied the African, with a laughing +sneer. + +‘I seek not to learn them. Suffice it, stranger, that how much soever +you may mean, as much I can understand.’ + +‘‘Tis well. Learned Zimri, is this thy pupil? I congratulate thee. +I will match him against the hopeful Eliezer.’ So saying, the lofty +African stalked out of the chamber. The assembly also broke up. Alroy +would willingly have immediately followed the African, and held some +further and more private conversation with him; but some minutes +elapsed, owing to the officious attentions of Zimri, before he could +escape; and, when he did, his search after the stranger was vain. He +inquired among the congregation, but none knew the African. He was no +man’s guest and no man’s debtor, and apparently had never before been +seen. + +The trumpet was sounding to close the gates, as Alroy passed the Zion +entrance. The temptation was irresistible. He rushed out, and ran for +more than one hundred yards without looking back, and when he did, he +had the satisfaction of ascertaining that he was fairly shut out for the +night. The sun had set, still the Mount of Olives was flushed with the +reflection of his dying beams, but Jehoshaphat at its feet was in deep +shadow. + +He wandered among the mountains for some time, beholding Jerusalem from +a hundred different points of view, and watching the single planets and +clustering constellations that gradually burst into beauty, or gathered +into light. At length, somewhat exhausted, he descended into the vale. +The scanty rill of Siloah[45] looked like a thread of silver winding in +the moonlight. Some houseless wretches were slumbering under the arch +of its fountain. Several isolated tombs of considerable size[46] rose at +the base of Olivet, and the largest of these Alroy entered. Proceeding +through a narrow passage, he entered a small square chamber. On each +side was an empty sarcophagus of granite, one with its lid broken. +Between these the Prince of the Captivity laid his robe, and, wearied by +his ramble, soon soundly slept. + +After some hours he woke. He fancied that he had been wakened by the +sound of voices. The chamber was not quite dark. A straggling moonbeam +fought its way through an open fretwork pattern in the top of the tomb, +and just revealed the dim interior. Suddenly a voice spoke, a strange +and singular voice. + +‘Brother, brother, the sounds of the night begin.’ + +Another voice answered, + +‘Brother, brother, I hear them, too.’ + +‘The woman in labour!’ + +‘The thief at his craft!’ + +‘The sentinel’s challenge!’ + +‘The murderer’s step!’ + +‘Oh! the merry sounds of the night!’ + +‘Brother, brother, let us come forth and wander about the world.’ + +‘We have seen all things. I’ll lie here and listen to the baying hound. +‘Tis music for a tomb.’ + +‘Choice and rare. You are idle. I like to sport in the starry air. Our +hours are few, they should be fair.’ + +‘What shall we see, Heaven or Earth?’ ‘Hell for me, ‘tis more amusing.’ +‘As for me, I am sick of Hades.’ ‘Let us visit Solomon!’ ‘In his unknown +metropolis?’ + +‘That will be rare.’ + +‘But where, oh! where?’ + +‘Even a spirit cannot tell. But they say, but they say, I dare not +whisper what they say.’ + +‘Who told you?’ + +‘No one. I overheard an Afrite whispering to a female Ghoul he wanted to +seduce.’ + +‘Hah! hah! hah! hah! choice pair, choice pair! We are more ethereal.’ + +‘She was a beauty in her way. Her eyes were luminous, though somewhat +dank, and her cheek tinged with carnation caught from infant blood.’ + +‘Oh! gay; oh! gay; what said they?’ + +‘He was a deserter without leave from Solomon’s body-guard. The trull +wriggled the secret out.’ + +‘Tell me, kind brother.’ + +‘I’ll show, not tell.’ + +‘I pr’ythee tell me.’ + +‘Well, then, well. In Genthesma’s gloomy cave there is a river none has +reached, and you must sail, and you must sail---- Brother!’ + +‘Ay.’ + +‘Methinks I smell something too earthly.’ + +‘What’s that?’ + +‘The breath of man.’ + +‘Scent more fatal than the morning air! Away, away!’ + +In the range of mountains that lead from Olivet to the river Jordan is +the great cavern of Genthesma, a mighty excavation formed by the +combined and immemorial work of Nature and of Art; for on the high +basaltic columns are cut strange characters and unearthly forms,[47] and +in many places the natural ornaments have been completed by the hands of +the sculptor into symmetrical entablatures and fanciful capitals, the +work, they say, of captive Dives and conquered Afrites for the great +king. + +It was midnight; the cold full moon showered it brilliancy upon this +narrow valley, shut in on all sides by black and barren mountains. A +single being stood at the entrance of the cave. + +It was Alroy. Desperate and determined, after listening to the spirits +in the tomb, he resolved to penetrate the mysteries of Genthesma. He +took from his girdle a flint and steel, with which he lighted a torch +and then he entered. + +The cavern narrowed as he cautiously advanced, and soon he found himself +at the head of an evidently artificial gallery. A crowd of bats rushed +forward and extinguished his torch [48] He leant down to relight it and +in so doing observed that he had trod upon an artificial pavement. + +The gallery was of great extent, with a gradual declination [49] Being +in a straight line with the mouth of the cavern, the moonlit scene was +long visible, but Alroy, on looking round, now perceived that the +exterior was shut out by the eminence that he had left behind him. The +sides of the gallery were covered with strange and sculptured forms. + +The Prince of the Captivity proceeded along this gallery for nearly two +hours. A distant murmur of falling water, which might have been +distinguished nearly from the first, increased in sound as he advanced, +and now, from the loud roar and dash at hand, he felt that he was on the +brink of some cataract. It as very dark. His heart trembled. He felt +his footing ere he ventured to advance. The spray suddenly leaped +forward and extinguished his torch. + +His eminent danger filled him with terror, and he receded some paces, +but in vain endeavoured to reillumine his torch, which was soaked with +water. + +His courage deserted him. Energy and exertion seemed hopeless. He was +about to deliver himself up to despair, when and expanding lustre +attracted his attention in the opposing gloom. + +A small and bright red cloud seemed sailing towards him. It opened, +discharged from its bosom as silvery star, and dissolved again into +darkness. But the star remained, the silvery star, and threw a long line +of tremulous light upon the vast and raging rapid, which now, fleet and +foaming, revealed itself on all sides to the eye of Alroy. + +The beautiful interposition in his favour re-animated the adventurous +pilgrim. A dark shadow in the foreground, breaking the line of light +shed by the star upon the waters, attracted his attention. He advanced, +regained his former footing, and more nearly examined it. It was a boat, +and in the boat, mute and immovable, sat one of those vast, singular, +and hidden forms which eh had observed sculptured on the walls of the +gallery. + +David Alry, committing his fortunes to the God of Israel, leapt into the +boat. + +And at the same moment the Afrite, for it was one of those dread +beings,[50] raised the oars, and the barque moved. The falling waters +suddenly parted in the long line of the star’s reflection, and the +barque glided through their high and severed masses. + +In this wise they proceeded for a few minutes, until they entered a +beautiful and moonlit lake. In the distance was mountainous country. +Alroy examined his companion with a feeling of curiosity not unmixed +with terror. It was remarkable that Alroy could never succeed in any way +in attracting his notice. The Afrite seemed totally unconscious of the +presence of his passenger. At length the boat reached the opposite shore +of the lake, and the Prince of the Captivity debarked. + +He debarked at the head of an avenue of colossal lions of red +granite,[51] extending far as the eye could reach, and ascending the +side of the mountain, which was cut into a flight of magnificent +steps. The easy ascent was in consequence soon accomplished, and Alroy, +proceeding along the avenue of lions, soon gained the summit of the +mountain. + +To his infinite astonishment he beheld Jerusalem. That strongly-marked +locality could not be mistaken: at his feet were Jehoshaphat, Kedron, +Siloah; he stood upon Olivet; before him was Zion. But in all other +respects, how different was the landscape from the one that he had gazed +upon a few days back, for the first time! The surrounding hills +sparkled with vineyards, and glowed with summer palaces, and voluptuous +pavilions, and glorious gardens of pleasure. The city, extending all +over Mount Sion, was encompassed with a wall of white marble, with +battlements of gold; a gorgeous mass of gates and pillars, and gardened +terraces; lofty piles of rarest materials, cedar, and ivory, and +precious stones; and costly columns of the richest workmanship and the +most fanciful orders, capitals of the lotus and the palm, and flowing +friezes of the olive and the vine. + +And in the front a mighty Temple rose, with inspiration in its very +form; a Temple so vast, so sumptuous, that there needed no priest to +tell us that no human hand planned that sublime magnificence! + +‘God of my fathers!’ said Alroy, ‘I am a poor, weak thing, and my life +has been a life of dreams and visions, and I have sometimes thought my +brain lacked a sufficient master; where am I? Do I sleep or live? Am I a +slumberer or a ghost? This trial is too much.’ He sank down, and hid +his face in his hands: his over-exerted mind appeared to desert him: he +wept. + +Many minutes elapsed before Alroy grew composed. His wild bursts of +weeping sank into sobs, and the sobs died off into sighs. And at length, +calm from exhaustion, he again looked up, and lo! the glorious city was +no more! Before him was a moon-lit plain, over which the avenue of +lions still advanced, and appeared to terminate only in the mountainous +distance. + +This limit the Prince of the Captivity at length reached, and stood +before a stupendous portal, cut out of the solid rock, four hundred feet +in height, and supported by clusters of colossal Caryatides.[52] Upon +the portal were engraven some Hebrew characters, which upon examination +proved to be the same as those upon the talisman of Jabaster. And so, +taking from his bosom that all-precious and long-cherished deposit, +David Alroy, in obedience to his instructions, pressed the signet +against the gigantic portal. + +The portal opened with a crash of thunder louder than an earthquake. +Pale, panting, and staggering, the Prince of the Captivity entered an +illimitable hall, illumined by pendulous balls of glowing metal. On each +side of the hall, sitting on golden thrones, was ranged a line of kings, +and, as the pilgrim entered, the monarchs rose, and took off their +diadems, and waved them thrice, and thrice repeated, in solemn chorus, +‘All hail, Alroy! Hail to thee, brother king! Thy crown awaits thee!’ + +The Prince of the Captivity stood trembling, with his eyes fixed upon +the ground, and leaning breathless against a column. And when at length +he had a little recovered himself, and dared again to look up, he found +that the monarchs were re-seated; and, from their still and vacant +visages, apparently unconscious of his presence. And this emboldened +him, and so, staring alternately at each side of the hall, but with a +firm, perhaps desperate step, Alroy advanced. + +And he came to two thrones which were set apart from the others in the +middle of the hall. On one was seated a noble figure, far above the +common stature, with arms folded and downcast eyes. His feet rested upon +a broken sword and a shivered sceptre, which told that he was a monarch, +in spite of his discrowned head. + +And on the opposite throne was a venerable personage, with a long +flowing beard, and dressed in white raiment. His countenance +was beautiful, although ancient. Age had stolen on without its +imperfections, and time had only invested it with a sweet dignity and +solemn grace. The countenance of the king was upraised with a seraphic +gaze, and, as he thus looked up on high, with eyes full of love, and +thanksgiving, and praise, his consecrated fingers seemed to touch the +trembling wires of a golden harp. + +And further on, and far above the rest, upon a throne that stretched +across the hall, a most imperial presence straightway flashed upon the +startled vision of Alroy. Fifty steps of ivory, and each step guarded +by golden lions,[53] led to a throne of jasper. A dazzling light blazed +forth from the glittering diadem and radiant countenance of him who sat +upon the throne, one beautiful as a woman, but with the majesty of a +god. And in one hand he held a seal, and in the other a sceptre. + +And when Alroy had reached the foot of the throne, he stopped, and his +heart misgave him. And he prayed for some minutes in silent devotion, +and, without daring to look up, he mounted the first step of the throne, +and the second, and the third, and so on, with slow and faltering feet, +until he reached the forty-ninth step. + +The Prince of the Captivity raised his eyes. He stood before the monarch +face to face. In vain Alroy attempted to attract his attention, or to +fix his gaze. The large dark eyes, full of supernatural lustre, appeared +capable of piercing all things, and illuminating all things, but they +flashed on without shedding a ray upon Alroy. + +Pale as a spectre, the pilgrim, whose pilgrimage seemed now on the point +of completion, stood cold and trembling before the object of all his +desires and all his labours. But he thought of his country, his people, +and his God; and, while his noiseless lips breathed the name of Jehovah, +solemnly he put forth his arm, and with a gentle firmness grasped the +unresisting sceptre of his great ancestor. + +And, as he seized it, the whole scene vanished from his sight! + +Hours or years might have passed away, so far as the sufferer was +concerned, when Alroy again returned to self-consciousness. His eyes +slowly opened, he cast around a vacant stare, he was lying in the cavern +of Genthesma. The moon had set, but the morn had not broken. A single +star glittered over the brow of the black mountains. He faintly moved +his limbs; he would have raised his hand to his bewildered brain, but +found that it grasped a sceptre. The memory of the past returned to him. +He tried to rise, and found that he was reposing in the arms of a human +being. He turned his head; he met the anxious gaze of Jabaster! + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + _Conquest of the Seljuks_ + +YOUR face is troubled, uncle.’ ‘So is my mind.’ ‘All may go well.’ +‘Miriam, we have seen the best. Prepare yourself for sorrow, gentle +girl. I care not for myself, for I am old, and age makes heroes of us +all. I have endured, and can endure more. As we approach our limit, it +would appear that our minds grow callous. I have seen my wealth, raised +with the labours of a thoughtful life, vanish in a morn: my people, a +fragile remnant, nevertheless a people, dispersed, or what is worse. I +have wept for them, although no tear of selfish grief has tinged this +withered cheek. And, were I but alone, ay! there’s the pang. The solace +of my days is now my sorrow.’ + +‘Weep not for me, dear uncle. Rather let us pray that our God will not +forsake us.’ + +‘We know not when we are well. Our hours stole tranquilly along, and +then we murmured. Prospering, we murmured, and now we are rightly +stricken. The legend of the past is Israel’s bane. The past is a dream; +and, in the waking present, we should discard the enervating shadow. Why +should we be free? We murmured against captivity. This _is_ captivity: +this damp, dim cell, where we are brought to die. + +‘O! youth, rash youth, thy being is destruction. But yesterday a child, +it seems but yesterday I nursed him in these arms, a thoughtless child, +and now our house has fallen by his deeds. I will not think of it; +‘twill make me mad.’ + +‘Uncle, dearest uncle, we have lived together, and we will die together, +and both in love; but, I pray you, speak no harsh word of David.’ + +‘Shall I praise him?’ + +‘Say nothing. What he has done, if done in grief, has been done all in +honour. Would you that he had spared Alschiroch?’ + +‘Never! I would have struck him myself. Brave boy, he did his duty; and +I, I, Miriam, thy uncle, at whom they wink behind his back and call him +niggard, was I wanting in that hour of trial? Was my treasure spared to +save my people? Did I shrink from all the toil and trouble of that time? +A trying time, my Miriam, but compared with this, the building of the +Temple----’ + +‘You were then what you have ever been, the best and wisest. And since +our fathers’ God did not forsake us, even in that wilderness of wildest +woe, I offer gratitude in present faith, and pay him for past mercies by +my prayers for more.’ + +‘Well, well, life must end. The hour approaches when we must meet our +rulers and mock trial; precious justice that begins in threats and ends +in torture. You are silent, Miriam.’ + +‘I am speaking to my God.’ + +‘What is that noise? A figure moves behind the dusky grate. Our gaoler. +No, no, it is Caleb! Faithful child, I fear you have perilled much.’ + +‘I enter with authority, my lord, and bear good tidings.’ + +‘He smiles! Is’t possible? Speak on, speak on!’ + +‘Alroy has captured the harem of our Governor, as they journeyed from +Bagdad to this city, guarded by his choicest troops. And he has sent to +offer that they shall be exchanged for you and for your household. And +Hassan has answered that his women shall owe their freedom to nothing +but his sword. But, in the meantime, it is agreed between him and the +messenger of your nephew, that both companies of prisoners shall be +treated with all becoming courtesy. You, therefore, are remanded to +your palace, and the trumpet is now sounding before the great mosque +to summon all the host against Alroy, whom Hassan has vowed to bring to +Hamadan dead or alive.’ + +‘The harem of the Governor, guarded too by his choicest troops! ‘Tis a +great deed. He did remember us. Faithful boy! The harem of the Governor! +his choicest troops! ‘Tis a very great deed. Me-thinks the Lord is with +him. He has his great father’s heart. Only think of David, a child! I +nursed him, often. Caleb! Can this be David, our David, a child, a girl? +Yet he struck Alschiroch! Miriam! where is she? Worthy Caleb, look to +your mistress; she has fallen. Quite gone! Fetch water. ‘Tis not very +pure, but we shall be in our palace soon. The harem of the Governor! I +can’t believe it. Sprinkle, sprinkle. David take them prisoners! Why, +when they pass, we are obliged to turn our heads, and dare not look. +More water: I’ll rub her hand. ‘Tis warmer! Her eyes open! Miriam, +choice news, my child! The harem of the Governor! I’ll not believe it! + +‘Once more within our walls, Caleb. Life is a miracle. I feel young +again. This is home; and yet I am a prisoner. You said the host were +assembling; he can have no chance. Think you, Caleb, he has any chance? +I hope he will die. I would not have him taken. I fear their tortures. +We will die too; we will all die. Now I am out of that dungeon, +me-thinks I could even fight. Is it true that he has joined with +robbers?’ + +‘I saw the messenger, and learnt that he first repaired to some bandits +in the ruins in the desert. He had become acquainted with them in his +pilgrimage. They say their leader is one of our people.’ + +‘I am glad of that. He can eat with him. I would not have him eat +unclean things with the Ishmaelites.’ + +‘Lord, sir! our people gather to him from all quarters. ‘Tis said that +Jabaster, the great Cabalist, has joined him from the mountains with ten +thousand men.’ + +‘The great Jabaster! then there is some chance. I know Jabaster well. He +is too wise to join a desperate cause. Art sure about Jabaster? ‘Tis +a great name, a very potent spirit. I have heard such things of that +Jabaster, sir, would make you stare like Saul before the spirit! Only +think of our David, Caleb, making all this noise! I am full of hope. I +feel not like a prisoner. He beat the harem guard, and, now he has got +Jabaster, he will beat them all.’ + +‘The messenger told me he captured the harem, only to free his uncle and +his sister.’ + +‘He ever loved me; I have done my duty to him; I think I have. Jabaster! +why, man, the name is a spell I There are men at Bagdad who will get up +in the night to join Jabaster. I hope David will follow his counsels +in all things. I would I had seen his servant, I could have sent him a +message.’ + +‘Lord, sir! the Prince Alroy has no great need of counsellors, I can +tell you. ‘Tis said he bears the sceptre of great Solomon, which he +himself obtained in the unknown tombs of Palestine.’ + +‘The sceptre of Solomon! could I but believe it! ‘Tis an age of wonders! +Where are we? Call for Miriam, I’ll tell her this. Only think of David, +a mere child, our David with the sceptre of Solomon! and Jabaster too! I +have great faith. The Lord confound his enemies!’ + +‘Gentle Rachel, I fear I trouble you; sweet Beruna, I thank you for your +zeal. I am better now; the shock was great. These are strange tidings, +maidens.’ + +‘Yes, dear lady! who would have thought of your brother turning out a +Captain?’ + +‘I am sure I always thought he was the quietest person in the world,’ +said Beruna, ‘though he did kill Alschiroch.’ + +‘One could never get a word out of him,’ said Rachel. + +‘He was always moping alone,’ said Beruna. + +‘And when one spoke to him he always turned away,’ said Leah. + +‘Or blushed,’ added Imra. + +‘Well, for my part,’ said the beautiful Bathsheba, ‘I always thought +Prince David was a genius. He had such beautiful eyes!’ + +‘I hope he will conquer Hassan,’ said Rachel. + +‘So do I,’ said Beruna. + +‘I wonder what he has done with the harem,’ said Leah. + +‘I don’t think he will dare to speak to them,’ said Imra. + +‘You are very much mistaken,’ said Bathsheba. + +‘Hark!’ said Miriam. + +‘‘Tis Hassan,’ said Bathsheba; ‘may he never return!’ + +The wild drum of the Seljuks sounded, then a flourish of their fierce +trumpets, and soon the tramp of horse. Behind the blinds of their +chamber, Miriam and her maidens beheld the magnificent troop of +tur-baned horsemen, who, glittering with splendid armour and bright +shawls, and proudly bounding on their fiery steeds, now went forth to +crush and conquer the only hope of Israel. Upon an Arab, darker than +night, rode the superb Hassan, and, as he passed the dwelling of +his late prisoners, whether from the exulting anticipation of coming +triumph, or from a soft suspicion that, behind that lattice, bright +eyes and brilliant faces were gazing on his state, the haughty but +handsome Seljuk flourished his scimitar over his head, as he threw his +managed steed into attitudes that displayed the skill of its rider. + +‘He is handsomer than Alschiroch,’ said Rachel. + +‘What a shawl!’ said Beruna. + +‘His scimitar was like lightning,’ said Leah. + +‘And his steed like thunder,’ said Imra. + +‘The evil eye fall on him!’ said Bathsheba. + +‘Lord,’ exclaimed Miriam, ‘remember David and all his afflictions!’ + +The deserted city of the wilderness presented a very different +appearance from that which met the astonished gaze of Alroy, when he +first beheld its noble turrets, and wandered in its silent streets of +palaces. + +Without the gates was pitched a numerous camp of those low black tents +common among the Kourds and Turkmans; the principal street was full +of busy groups engaged in all the preparations of warfare, and all the +bustling expedients of an irregular and adventurous life; steeds were +stalled in ruined chambers, and tall camels raised their still visages +among the clustering columns, or crouched in kneeling tranquillity amid +fallen statues and prostrate obelisks. + +Two months had scarcely elapsed since Alroy and Jabaster had sought +Scherirah in his haunt, and announced to him their sacred mission. The +callous heart of him, whose ‘mother was a Jewess,’ had yielded to their +inspired annunciations. He embraced their cause with all the fervour +of conversion, and his motley band were not long sceptical of a creed +which, while it assuredly offered danger and adventure, held out the +prospects of wealth and even empire. From the city of the wilderness +the new Messiah sent forth his messengers to the neighbouring cities, to +announce his advent to his brethren in captivity. The Hebrews, a +proud and stiff-necked race, ever prone to rebellion, received the +announcement of their favourite prince with transport. The descendant +of David, and the slayer of Alschiroch, had double claims upon their +confidence and allegiance, and the flower of the Hebrew youth in the +neighbouring cities of the Caliphate repaired in crowds to pay their +homage to the recovered sceptre of Solomon. + +The affair was at first treated by the government with contempt, and the +sultan of the Seljuks contented himself with setting a price upon the +head of the murderer of his brother; but, when several cities had been +placed under contribution, and more than one Moslem caravan stopped, +and plundered in the name of the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, +orders were despatched from Bagdad to the new governor of Hamadan, +Hassan Subah, to suppress the robbers, or the rebels, and to send David +Alroy dead or alive to the capital. + +The Hebrew malcontents were well apprised by their less adventurous +but still sympathising brethren of everything that took place at the +head-quarters of the enemy. Spies arrived on the same day at the city +of the wilderness, who informed Alroy that his uncle was thrown into +a dungeon at Hamadan, and that a body of chosen troops were about to +escort a royal harem from Bagdad into Persia. + +Alroy attacked the escort in person, utterly discomfited them, and +captured their charge. It proved to be the harem of the Governor of +Hamadan, and if for a moment the too sanguine fancy of the captor +experienced a passing pang of disappointment, the prize at least +obtained, as we have seen, the freedom and security of his dear though +distant friends. This exploit precipitated the expedition which was +preparing at Hamadan for his destruction. The enraged Hassan Subah +started from his divan, seized his scimitar, and without waiting for the +auxiliaries he had summoned from the neighbouring chieftains, called to +horse, and at the head of two thousand of the splendid Seljuk cavalry, +hurried to vindicate his love and satiate his revenge. + +Within the amphitheatre which he first entered as a prisoner, Alroy sat +in council. On his right was Jabaster, Scherirah on his left. A youth, +little his senior, but tall as a palm-tree, and strong as a young lion, +was the fourth captain. In the distance, some standing, some reclining, +were about fifty men completely armed. + +‘Are the people numbered, Abner?’ inquired Alroy of the youth. + +‘Even so; three hundred effective horsemen, and two thousand footmen; +but the footmen lack arms.’ + +‘The Lord will send them in good time,’ said Jabaster; ‘meanwhile let +them continue to make javelins.’ + +‘Trust in the Lord,’ murmured Scherirah, bending his head, with his eyes +fixed on the ground. + +A loud shout was heard throughout the city. Alroy started from his +carpet. The messenger had returned. Pale and haggard, covered with sweat +and sand, the faithful envoy was borne into the amphitheatre almost upon +the shoulders of the people. In vain the guard endeavoured to stem the +passage of the multitude. They clambered up the tiers of arches, +they filled the void and crumbling seats of the antique circus, they +supported themselves upon each other’s shoulders, they clung to the +capitals of the lofty columns. The whole multitude had assembled to +hear the intelligence; the scene recalled the ancient purpose of the +building, and Alroy and his fellow-warriors seemed like the gladiators +of some old spectacle. + +‘Speak,’ said Alroy, ‘speak the worst. No news can be bitter to those +whom the Lord will avenge.’ + +‘Ruler of Israel! thus saith Hassan Subah,’ answered the messenger: ‘My +harem shall owe their freedom to nothing but my sword. I treat not with +rebels, but I war not with age or woman; and between Bostenay and his +household on one side, and the prisoners of thy master on the other, let +there be peace. Go, tell Alroy, I will seal it in his best blood. And +lo! thy uncle and thy sister are again in their palace.’ + +Alroy placed his hand for a moment to his eyes, and then instantly +resuming his self-possession, he enquired as to the movements of the +enemy. + +‘I have crossed the desert on a swift dromedary[54] lent to me by +Shelomi of the Gate, whose heart is with our cause. I have not tarried, +neither have I slept. Ere to-morrow’s sunset the Philistines will be +here, led by Hassan Subah himself. The Lord of Hosts be with us! Since +we conquered Canaan, Israel hath not struggled with such a power!’ + +A murmur ran through the assembly. Men exchanged enquiring glances, and +involuntarily pressed each other’s arms. + +‘The trial has come,’ said a middle-aged Hebrew, who had fought twenty +years ago with Jabaster. + +‘Let me die for the Ark!’ said a young enthusiast of the band of Abner. + +‘I thought we should get into a scrape,’ whispered Kisloch the Kourd to +Calidas the Indian. ‘What could have ever induced us to give up robbing +in a quiet manner?’ + +‘And turn Jews!’ said the Guebre, with a sneer. + +‘Look at Scherirah,’ said the Negro, grinning. ‘If he is not kissing the +sceptre of Solomon!’ + +‘I wish to heaven he had only hung Alroy the first time he met him,’ +said Calidas. + +‘Sons of the Covenant!’ exclaimed Alroy, ‘the Lord hath delivered them +into our hands. To-morrow eve we march to Hamadan!’ + +A cheer followed this exclamation. + +‘It is written,’ said Jabaster, opening a volume, ‘“Lo! I will defend +this city, to save it, for mine own sake, and for my servant David’s +sake.” + +‘“And it came to pass that night that the angel of the Lord went out, +and smote in the camp of the Assyrians, an hundred four score and five +thousand; and when they arose early in the morning, behold! they were +all dead corpses.” + +‘Now, as I was gazing upon the stars this morn, and reading the +celestial alphabet known to the true Cabalist,[55] behold! the star of +the house of David and seven other stars moved, and met together, and +formed into a circle. And the word they formed was a mystery to me; but +lo! I have opened the book, and each star is the initial letter of each +line of the Targum that I have now read to you. Therefore the fate of +Sennacherib is the fate of Hassan Subah!’ + +‘_“Trust in him at all times, ye people; pour out your heart before him.” + god is a refuge for us. Selah!_’ + +At this moment a female form appeared on the very top of the +amphitheatre, upon the slight remains of the upper most tier of which +a solitary arch alone was left. The chorus instantly died away, every +tongue was silent, every eye fixed. Hushed, mute, and immovable, even +Kisloch and his companions were appalled as they gazed upon Esther the +Prophetess. + +Her eminent position, her imposing action, the flashing of her immense +eyes, her beautiful but awful countenance, her black hair, that hung +almost to her knees, and the white light of the moon, just rising over +the opposite side of the amphitheatre, and which threw a silvery flash +upon her form, and seemed to invest her with some miraculous emanation, +while all beneath her was in deep gloom,-these circumstances combined +to render her an object of universal interest and attention, while in a +powerful but high voice she thus addressed them: + +‘They come, they come! But will they go? Lo! hear ye this, O house of +Jacob, which are called by the name of Israel, and are come forth out of +the waters of Judah! I hear their drum in the desert, and the voice of +their trumpets is like the wind of eve, but a decree hath gone forth, +and it says, that a mortal shall be more precious than fine gold, yea, a +man than the rich ore of Ophir. + +‘They come, they come! But will they go? I see the flash of their +scimitars, I mark the prancing of their cruel steeds; but a decree hath +gone forth, and it says, a gleaning shall be left among them, as in +the shaking of the olive-tree; two or three berries on the top of the +uppermost bough; four or five on the straggling branches. + +‘They come, they come! But will they go? Lo! a decree hath gone forth, +and it says, Hamadan shall be to thee for a spoil, and desolation shall +fall upon Babylon. And there shall the wild beasts of the desert lodge, +and howling monsters shall fill their houses, and there shall the +daughters of the ostrich dwell, and there shall the screech-owl pitch +her tent, and there shall the night-raven lay her eggs, and there shall +the satyrs hold their revels. And wolves shall howl to one another in +their palaces, and dragons in their voluptuous pavilions. Her time is +near at hand; her days shall not be prolonged; the reed and the lotus +shall wither in her rivers; and the meadows by her canals shall be as +the sands of the desert. For, is it a light thing that the Lord should +send his servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and to restore the +preserved of Israel? Sing, O heavens, and be joyful, O earth, and break +forth into singing, O mountains, for the Lord hath comforted his people, +and will have mercy upon his afflicted!’ + +She ceased; she descended the precipitous side of the amphitheatre with +rapid steps, vaulting from tier to tier, and bounding with wonderful +agility from one mass of ruin to another. At length she reached the +level; and then, foaming and panting, she rushed to Alroy, threw herself +upon the ground, embraced his feet, and wiped off the dust from his +sandals with her hair. + +The assembly broke into long and loud acclamations of supernatural +confidence and sanguine enthusiasm. They beheld their Messiah wave his +miraculous sceptre. They thought of Hassan Subah and his Seljuks only +as of victims, and of to-morrow only as of a day which was to commence a +new era of triumph, freedom, and empire! + +Hassan Subah after five days’ forced marches pitched his sumptuous +pavilion in that beautiful Oasis, which had afforded such delightful +refreshment to Alroy when a solitary pilgrim. Around for nearly a mile, +were the tents of his warriors, and of the numerous caravan that had +accompanied him, laden with water and provisions for his troops. Here, +while he reposed, he also sought information as to the position of his +enemy. + +A party of observation, which he had immediately despatched, returned +almost instantly with a small caravan that had been recently plundered +by the robbers. The merchant, a venerable and pious Moslem, was ushered +into the presence of the Governor of Hamadan. + +‘From the robbers’ haunt?’ enquired Hassan. + +‘Unfortunately so,’ answered the merchant. + +‘Is it far?’ + +‘A day’s journey.’ + +‘And you quitted it?’ + +‘Yesterday morn.’ + +‘What is their force?’ + +The merchant hesitated. + +‘Do they not make prisoners?’ enquired the Governor, casting a +scrutinising glance at his companion. + +‘Holy Prophet! what a miserable wretch am I!’ exclaimed the venerable +merchant, bursting into tears. ‘A faithful subject of the Caliph, I am +obliged to serve rebels, a devout Moslem, I am forced to aid Jews! Order +me to be hanged at once, my lord,’ continued the unfortunate merchant, +wringing his hands. ‘Order me to be hanged at once. I have lived long +enough.’ + +‘What is all this?’ enquired Hassan; ‘speak, friend, without fear.’ + +‘I am a faithful subject of the Caliph,’ answered the merchant; ‘I am a +devout Moslem, but I have lost ten thousand dirhems.’ + +‘I am sorry for you, sir; I also have lost something, but my losses are +nothing to you, nor yours to me.’ + +‘Accursed be the hour when these dogs tempted me! Tell me, is it sin to +break faith with a Jew?’ + +‘On the contrary, I could find you many reverend Mollahs, who will tell +you that such a breach is the highest virtue. Come! come, I see how it +is: you have received your freedom on condition of not betraying your +merciful plunderers. Promises exacted by terror are the bugbears of +fools. Speak, man, all you know. Where are they? What is their force? +Are we supposed to be at hand?’ + +‘I am a faithful subject of the Caliph, and I am bound to serve him,’ +replied the merchant; ‘I am a devout Moslem, and ‘tis my duty to destroy +all Giaours, but I am also a man, and I must look after my own interest. +Noble Governor, the long and the short is, these scoundrels have robbed +me of ten thousand dirhems, as my slaves will tell you: at least, goods +to that amount. No one can prove that they be worth less. It is true +that I include in that calculation the fifty per cent. I was to make +on my shawls at Hamadan, but still to me it is as good as ten thousand +dirhems. Ask my slaves if such an assortment of shawls was ever yet +beheld.’ + +‘To the point, to the point. The robbers?’ ‘I am at the point. The +shawls is the point. For when I talked of the shawls and the heaviness +of my loss, you must know that the captain of the robbers--’ + +‘Alroy?’ + +‘A fierce young gentleman, I do not know how they call him: said the +captain to me, “Merchant, you look gloomy.” “Gloomy,” I said, “you would +look gloomy if you were a prisoner, and had lost ten thousand dirhems.” + “What, is this trash worth ten thousand dirhems?” said he. “With the +fifty per cent. I was to make at Hamadan.” “Fifty per cent.,” said he; +“you are an old knave.” “Knave! I should like to hear any one call me +knave at Bagdad.” “Well, knave or not, you may get out of this scrape.” + “How?” “Why you are a respectable-looking man,” said he, “and are a good +Moslem into the bargain, I warrant.” “That I am,” said I, “although you +be a Jew: but how the faith is to serve me here I am sure I don’t +know, unless the angel Gabriel, as in the fifty-fifth verse of the +twenty-seventh chapter of the Koran----“’ + +‘Tush, tush!’ exclaimed Hassan; ‘to the point.’ + +‘I always am at the point, only you put me out. However, to make it +as short as possible, the captain knows all about your coming, and is +frightened out of his wits, although he did talk big; I could easily see +that. And he let me go, you see, with some of my slaves, and gave me an +order for five thousand dirhems on one Bostenay, of Hamadan (perhaps +you know him; is he a good man?), on condition that I would fall in with +you, and, Mohammed forgive me, tell you a lie!’ + +‘A lie!’ + +‘Yes, a lie; but these Jewish dogs do not understand what a truly +religious man is, and when I began to tell the lie, I was soon put +out. Now, noble Hassan, if a promise to a Jew be not binding on a true +believer, and you will see me straight with the five thousand dirhems, I +will betray everything at once.’ + +‘Be easy about the five thousand dirhems, good man, and tell me all.’ + +‘You will see me paid?’ + +‘My honour upon it.’ + +‘‘Tis well! Know then, the infamous dogs are very weak, and terrified +at the news of your progress: one, whom I think they call Jabaster, has +departed with the great majority of the people into the interior of the +desert, about seven hundred strong. I heard so; but mind, I do not +know it. The young man, whom you call Alroy, being wounded in a recent +conflict, could not depart with them, but remains among the ruins with +some female prisoners, some treasure, and about a hundred companions +hidden in sepulchres. He gave me my freedom on condition that I should +fall in with you, and assure you that the dogs, full five thousand +strong, had given you the go-by in the night, and marched towards +Hamadan. They wanted me to frighten you; it was a lie, and I could not +tell it. And now you know the plain truth; and if it be a sin to break +faith with an infidel, you are responsible for it, as well as for the +five thousand dirhems, which, by-the-bye, ought to have been ten.’ + +‘Where is your order?’ + +‘‘Tis here,’ said the merchant, drawing it from his vest, ‘a very +business-like document, drawn upon one Bostenay, whom they described as +very rich, and who is here enjoined to pay me five thousand dirhems, if, +in consequence of my information, Hassan Subah, that is yourself, return +forthwith to Hamadan without attacking them.’ + +‘Old Bostenay’s head shall answer for this.’ + +‘I am glad of it. But were I you, I would make him pay me first.’ + +‘Merchant,’ said Hassan, ‘have you any objection to pay another visit to +your friend Alroy?’ + +‘Allah forbid!’ + +‘In my company?’ + +‘That makes a difference.’ + +‘Be our guide. The dirhems shall be doubled.’ + +‘That will make up for the fifty per cent. I hardly like it; but in your +company that makes a difference. Lose no time. If you push on, Alroy +must be captured. Now or never! The Jewish dogs, to rifle a true +believer!’ + +‘Oglu,’ said Hassan to one of his officers. ‘To horse! You need not +strike the tents. Can we reach the city by sunset, merchant?’ + +‘An hour before, if you be off at once.’ ‘Sound the drums. To horse! to +horse!’ The Seljuks halted before the walls of the deserted city. Their +commander ordered a detachment to enter and reconnoitre. They returned +and reported its apparent desolation. Hassan Subah, then directing +that a guard should surround the walls to prevent any of the enemy from +escaping, passed with his warriors through the vast portal into the +silent street. The still magnificence of the strange and splendid scene +influenced the temper even of this ferocious cavalry. They gazed around +them with awe and admiration. The fierceness of their visages was +softened, the ardour of their impulse stilled. A supernatural feeling +of repose stole over their senses. No one brandished his scimitar, the +fiery courser seemed as subdued as his lord, and no sound was heard but +the melancholy, mechanical tramp of the disciplined march, unrelieved +by martial music, inviolate by oath or jest, and unbroken even by the +ostentatious caracoling of any showy steed. + +It was sunset; the star of eve glittered over the white Ionian fane that +rose serene and delicate in the flashing and purple sky. + +‘This way, my lord!’ said the merchant guide, turning round to Hassan +Subah, who, surrounded by his officers, led the van. The whole of the +great way of the city was filled with the Seljukian warriors. Their ebon +steeds, their snowy turbans, adorned with plumes of the black eagle and +the red heron, their dazzling shawls, the blaze of their armour in +the sunset, and the long undulating perspective of beautiful forms and +brilliant colours, this regiment of heroes in a street of palaces. War +had seldom afforded a more imposing or more picturesque spectacle. + +‘This way, my lord!’ said the merchant, pointing to the narrow turning +that, at the foot of the temple, led through ruined streets to the +amphitheatre. + +‘Halt!’ exclaimed a wild shrill voice. Each warrior suddenly arrested +his horse. + +‘Who spoke?’ exclaimed Hassan Subah. + +‘I!’ answered a voice. A female form stood in the portico of the temple, +with uplifted arms. + +‘And who art thou?’ enquired Hassan Subah, not a little disconcerted. + +‘Thine evil genius, Seljuk!’ + +Hassan Subah, pale as his ivory battle-axe, did not answer; every man +within hearing shuddered; still the dread woman remained immovable +within the porch of the temple. + +‘Woman, witch, or goddess,’ at length exclaimed Hassan Subah, ‘what +wouldst thou here?’ + +‘Seljuk! behold this star. ‘Tis a single drop of light, yet who even +of thy wild band can look upon it without awe? And yet thou worse than +Sisera, thou comest to combat against those for whom even “the stars in +their courses fought.”’ + +‘A Jewish witch!’ exclaimed the Seljuk. + +‘A Jewish witch! Be it so; behold, then, my spell falls upon thee, and +that spell is Destruction. + +‘Awake, awake, Deborah: awake, awake, utter a song; arise, Barak, and +lead thy captivity captive, thou son of Abinoam!’ + +Immediately the sky appeared to darken, a cloud of arrows and javelins +broke from all sides upon the çlevoted Seljuks: immense masses of stone +and marble were hurled from all directions, horses were stabbed by +spears impelled by invisible hands, and riders fell to the ground +without a struggle, and were trampled upon by their disordered and +affrighted brethren. + +‘We are betrayed,’ exclaimed Hassan Subah, hurling a javelin at the +merchant, but the merchant was gone. The Seljuks raised their famous war +cry. + +‘Oglu, regain the desert,’ ordered the chieftain. + +But no sooner had the guard without the walls heard the war cry of +their companions, than, alarmed, for their safety, they rushed to their +assistance. The retreating forces of Subah, each instant diminishing as +they retreated, were baffled in their project by the very eagerness of +their auxiliaries. The unwilling contention of the two parties increased +the confusion; and when the Seljuks, recently arrived, having at length +formed into some order, had regained the gate, they found to their +dismay that the portal was barricadoed and garrisoned by the enemy. +Uninspired by the presence of their commander, who was in the rear, the +puzzled soldiers were seized with a panic, and spurring their +horses, dispersed in all directions of the city. In vain Hassan Subah +endeavoured to restore order. The moment was past. Dashing with about +thirty men to an open ground, which his quick eye had observed in his +progress down the street, and dealing destruction with every blow, the +dreaded Governor of Hamadan, like a true soldier, awaited an inevitable +fate, not wholly despairing that some chance might yet turn up to +extricate him from his forlorn situation. + +And now, as it were by enchantment, wild armed men seemed to arise from +every part of the city. From every mass of ruin, from every crumbling +temple and mouldering mansion, from every catacomb and cellar, from +behind every column and every obelisk, upstarted some desperate warrior +with a bloody weapon. The massacre of the Seljuks was universal. The +horsemen dashed wildly about the ruined streets, pursued by crowds of +footmen; sometimes, formed in small companies, the Seljuks charged and +fought desperately; but, however stout might be their resistance to the +open foe, it was impossible to withstand their secret enemies. They had +no place of refuge, no power of gaining even a moment’s breathing time. +If they retreated to a wall it instantly bristled with spears; if they +endeavoured to form, in a court, they sank under the falling masses +which were showered upon them. Strange shouts of denunciation blended +with the harsh braying of horns, and the clang and clash of cymbals and +tambours sounded in every quarter of the city. + +‘If we could only mount the walls, Ibrahim, and leap into the desert!’ +exclaimed Hassan Subah to one of his few remaining comrades; ‘‘tis our +only chance. We die here like dogs! Could I but meet Alroy!’ + +Three of the Seljuks dashed swiftly across the open ground in front, +followed by several Hebrew horsemen. + +‘Smite all, Abner. Spare none, remember Amalek,’ exclaimed their +youthful leader, waving his bloody scimitar. + +‘They are down; one, two, there goes the third. My javelin has done for +him.’ + +‘Your horse bleeds freely. Where’s Jabaster?’ + +‘At the gates; my arm aches with slaughter. The Lord hath delivered them +into our hands. Could I but meet their chieftain!’ + +‘Turn, bloodhound, he is here,’ exclaimed Hassan Subah. + +‘Away, Abner, this affair is mine.’ + +‘Prince, you have already slain your thousands.’ + +‘And Abner his tens of thousands. Is it so? This business is for me +only. Come on, Turk.’ + +‘Art thou Alroy?’ + +‘The same.’ + +‘The slayer of Alschiroch?’ + +‘Even so.’ + +‘A rebel and a murderer.’ + +‘What you please. Look to yourself.’ + +The Hebrew Prince flung a javelin at the Seljuk. It glanced from the +breastplate; but Hassan Subah staggered in his seat. Recovering, he +charged Alroy with great force. Their scimitars crossed, and the blade +of Hassan shivered. + +‘He who sold me that blade told me it was charmed, and could be broken +only by a caliph,’ said Hassan Subah. ‘He was a liar.’ + +‘As it may be,’ said Alroy, and he cut the Seljuk to the ground. Abner +had dispersed his comrades. Alroy leaped from his fainting steed, and, +mounting the ebon courser of his late enemy, dashed again into the +thickest of the fight. + +The shades of night descended, the clamour gradually decreased, the +struggle died away. A few unhappy Moslemin who had quitted their saddles +and sought concealment among the ruins, were occasionally hunted out, +and brought forward and massacred. Long ere midnight the last of the +Seljuks had expired.[56] + +The moon shed a broad light upon the street of palaces crowded with +the accumulated slain and the living victors. Fires were lit, torches +illumined, the conquerors prepared the eager meal as they sang hymns of +praise and thanksgiving. + +A procession approached. Esther the prophetess, clashing her cymbals, +danced before the Messiah of Israel, who leant upon his victorious +scimitar, surrounded by Jabaster, Abner, Scherirah, and his chosen +chieftains. Who could now doubt the validity of his mission? The +wide and silent desert rang with the acclamations of his enthusiastic +votaries. + +Heavily the anxious hours crept on in the Jewish quarter of Hamadan. +Again and again the venerable Bostenay discussed the chances of success +with the sympathising but desponding elders. Miriam was buried in +constant prayer. Their most sanguine hopes did not extend beyond the +escape of their Prince. + +A fortnight had elapsed, and no news had been received of the progress +of the expedition, when suddenly, towards sunset, a sentinel on a +watch-tower announced the appearance of an armed force in the distance. +The walls were instantly lined with the anxious inhabitants, the streets +and squares filled with curious crowds. Exultation sat on the triumphant +brow of the Moslemin; a cold tremor stole over the fluttering heart of +the Hebrew. + +‘There is but one God,’ said the captain of the gate. + +‘And Mahomed is His prophet,’ responded a sentinel. + +‘To-morrow we will cut off the noses of all these Jewish dogs.’ + +‘The sceptre has departed,’ exclaimed the despairing Bostenay. + +‘Lord, remember David!’ whispered Miriam, as she threw herself upon the +court of the palace, and buried her face in ashes. + +The Mollahs in solemn procession advanced to the ramparts, to shed their +benediction on the victorious Hassan Subah. The Muezzin ascended the +minarets to watch the setting sun, and proclaim the power of Allah with +renewed enthusiasm. + +‘I wonder if Alroy be dead or alive,’ said the captain of the gate. + +‘If he be alive, he will be impaled,’ responded a sentinel. + +‘If dead, the carcass will be given to the dogs,’ rejoined the captain; +‘that is the practice.’ + +‘Bostenay will be hung,’ said the sentinel. + +‘And his niece, too,’ answered the captain. + +‘Hem!’ said the sentinel. ‘Hassan Subah loves a black eye.’ + +‘I hope a true Moslem will not touch a Jewess,’ exclaimed an indignant +black eunuch. + +‘They approach. What a dust!’ said the captain of the gate. + +‘I see Hassan Subah!’ said the sentinel. + +‘So do I,’ said the eunuch, ‘I know his black horse.’ + +‘I wonder how many dirhems old Bostenay is worth,’ said the captain. + +‘Immense!’ said the sentinel. + +‘No plunder, I suppose?’ said the eunuch. + +‘We shall see,’ said the captain; ‘at any rate, I owe a thousand to old +Shelomi. We need not pay now, you know.’ + +‘Certainly not,’ said the black eunuch. ‘The rebels.’ + +A body of horsemen dashed forward. Their leader in advance reined in his +fiery charger beneath the walls. + +‘In the name of the Prophet, who is that?’ exclaimed the captain of the +gate, a little confused. + +‘I never saw him before,’ said the sentinel, ‘although he is in the +Seljuk dress. ‘Tis some one from Bagdad, I guess.’ + +A trumpet sounded. + +‘Who keeps the gate?’ called out the warrior. + +‘I am the captain of the gate,’ answered our friend. + +‘Open it, then, to the King of Israel.’ + +‘To whom?’ enquired the astonished captain. + +‘To King David. The Lord hath delivered Hassan Subah and his host into +our hands, and of all the proud Seljuks none remaineth. Open thy gates, +I say, and lose no time. I am Jabaster, a lieutenant of the Lord; this +scimitar is my commission. Open thy gates, and thou and thy people shall +have that mercy which they have never shown; but if thou delayest one +instant, thus saith the King our master, “I will burst open your portal, +and smite, and utterly destroy all that you have, and spare them not; +but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel +and ass.”’ + +‘Call forth the venerable Lord Bostenay,’ said the captain of the gate, +with chattering teeth. ‘He will intercede for us.’ + +‘And the gentle Lady Miriam,’ said the sentinel. ‘She is ever +charitable.’ + +‘I will head the procession,’ said the black eunuch; ‘I am accustomed to +women.’ + +The procession of Mollahs shuffled back to their college with profane +precipitation; the sun set, and the astounded Muezzin stood with their +mouths open, and quite forgot to announce the power of their Deity, +and the validity of their Prophet. The people all called out for the +venerable Lord Bostenay and the gentle Lady Miriam, and ran in crowds to +see who could first kiss the hem of their garments. + +The principal gate of Hamadan opened into the square of the great +mosque. Here the whole population of the city appeared assembled. The +gates were thrown open; Jabaster and his companions mounted guard. The +short twilight died away, the shades of night descended. The minarets +were illumined,[57] the houses hung with garlands, the ramparts covered +with tapestry and carpets. + +A clang of drums, trumpets, and cymbals announced the arrival of the +Hebrew army. The people shouted, the troops without responded with a +long cheer of triumph. Amid the blaze of torches, a youth waving his +scimitar, upon a coal-black steed, bounded into the city, at the head +of his guards, the people fell upon their knees, and shouted ‘Long live +Alroy!’ + +A venerable man, leading a beauteous maiden with downcast eyes, +advanced. They headed a deputation of the chief inhabitants of the city. +They came to solicit mercy and protection. At the sight of them, the +youthful warrior leaped from his horse, flung away his scimitar, and +clasping the maiden in his arms, exclaimed, ‘Miriam, my sister, this, +this indeed is triumph!’ + +‘Drink,’ said Kisloch the Kourd to Calidas the Indian; ‘you forget, +comrade, we are no longer Moslemin.’ + +‘Wine, methinks, has a peculiarly pleasant flavour in a golden cup,’ +said the Guebre. ‘I got this little trifle to-day in the Bazaar,’ he +added, holding up a magnificent vase studded with gems. + +‘I thought plunder was forbidden,’ grinned the Negro. + +‘So it is,’ replied the Guebre; ‘but we may purchase what we please, +upon credit.’ + +‘Well, for my part, I am a moderate man,’ exclaimed Calidas the Indian, +‘and would not injure even these accursed dogs of Turks. I have not cut +my host’s throat, but only turned him into my porter, and content myself +with his harem, his baths, his fine horses, and other little trifles.’ + +‘What quarters we are in! There is nothing like a true Messiah!’ +exclaimed Kisloch, devoutly. + +‘Nothing,’ said Calidas; ‘though to speak truth, I did not much believe +in the efficacy of Solomon’s sceptre, till his Majesty clove the head of +the valiant Seljuk with it.’ + +‘But now there’s no doubt of it,’ said the Guebre. + +‘We should indeed be infidels if we doubted now,’ replied the Indian. + +‘How lucky,’ grinned the Negro, ‘as I had no religion before, that I +have now fixed upon the right one!’ + +‘Most fortunate!’ said the Guebre. ‘What shall we do to amuse ourselves +to-night?’ + +‘Let us go to the coffee-houses and make the Turks drink wine,’ said +Calidas the Indian. + +‘What say you to burning down a mosque?’ said Kisloch the Kourd. + +‘I had great fun with some Dervishes this morning,’ said the Guebre. ‘I +met one asking alms with a wire run through his cheek,[58] so I caught +another, bored his nose, and tied them both together!’ + +‘Hah! hah! hah!’ burst the Negro. + +Asia resounded with the insurrection of the Jews, and the massacre of +the Seljuks. Crowds of Hebrews, from the rich cities of Persia and the +populous settlements on the Tigris and the Euphrates, hourly poured into +Hamadan. + +The irritated Moslemin persecuted the brethren of the successful rebel, +and this impolicy precipitated their flight. The wealth of Bagdad +flowed into the Hebrew capital. Seated on the divan of Hassan Subah, and +wielding the sceptre of Solomon, the King of Israel received the homage +of his devoted subjects, and despatched his envoys to Syria and to +Egypt. The well-stored magazines and arsenals of Hamadan soon converted +the pilgrims into warriors. The city was unable to accommodate the +increased and increasing population. An extensive camp, under the +command of Abner, was formed without the walls, where the troops were +daily disciplined, and where they were prepared for greater exploits +than a skirmish in a desert. + +Within a month after the surrender of Hamadan, the congregation of the +people assembled in the square of the great mosque, now converted into a +synagogue. The multitude was disposed in ordered ranks, and the terrace +of every house was crowded. In the centre of the square was an altar of +cedar and brass, and on each side stood a company of priests guarding +the victims, one young bullock, and two rams without blemish. + +Amid the flourish of trumpets, the gates of the synagogue opened, and +displayed to the wondering eyes of the Hebrews a vast and variegated +pavilion planted in the court. The holy remnant, no longer forlorn, +beheld that tabernacle of which they had so long dreamed, once more +shining in the sun, with its purple and scarlet hangings, its curtains +of rare skins, and its furniture of silver and gold. + +A procession of priests advanced, bearing, with staves of cedar, run +through rings of gold, a gorgeous ark, the work of the most cunning +artificers of Persia. Night and day had they laboured, under the +direction of Jabaster, to produce this wondrous spectacle. Once more +the children of Israel beheld the cherubim. They burst into a triumphant +hymn of thanksgiving, and many drew their swords, and cried aloud to be +led against the Canaanites. + +From the mysterious curtains of the tabernacle, Alroy came forward, +leading Jabaster. They approached the altar. And Alroy took robes from +the surrounding priests, and put them upon Jabaster, and a girdle, and +a breastplate of jewels. And Alroy took a mitre, and placed it upon the +head of Jabaster, and upon the mitre he placed a crown; and pouring oil +upon his head, the pupil anointed the master High Priest of Israel. + +The victims were slain, the sin-offering burnt. Amid clouds of incense, +bursts of music, and the shouts of a devoted people; amid odour, and +melody, and enthusiasm, Alroy mounted his charger, and at the head of +twenty thousand men, departed to conquer Media. + +The extensive and important province of Aderbijan, of which Hamadan was +the capital, was formed of the ancient Media. Its fate was decided +by one battle. On the plain of Nehauend, Alroy met the hastily-raised +levies of the Atabek of Kermanshah, and entirely routed them. In the +course of a month, every city of the province had acknowledged the +supremacy of the new Hebrew monarch, and, leaving Abner to complete the +conquest of Louristan, Alroy entered Persia. + +The incredible and irresistible progress of Alroy roused Togrul, the +Turkish Sultan of Persia, from the luxurious indolence of the palaces +of Nishapur. He summoned his emirs to meet him at the imperial city of +Rhey, and crush, by one overwhelming effort, the insolent rebel. + +Religion, valour, and genius, alike inspired the arms of Alroy, but he +was, doubtless, not a little assisted by the strong national sympathy +of his singular and scattered people, which ever ensured him prompt +information of all the movements of his enemy. Without any preparation, +he found agents in every court, and camp, and cabinet; and, by their +assistance, he anticipated the designs of his adversaries, and turned +even their ingenuity to their confusion. The imperial city of Rhey was +surprised in the night, sacked, and burnt to the ground. The scared +and baffled emirs who escaped, flew to the Sultan Togrul, tearing their +beards, and prophesying the approaching termination of the world. The +palaces of Nishapur resounded with the imprecations of their master, +who, cursing the Jewish dogs, and vowing a pilgrimage to Mecca, placed +himself at the head of a motley multitude of warriors, and rushed upon +the plains of Irak, to exterminate Alroy. + +The Persian force exceeded the Hebrew at least five times in number. +Besides a large division of Seljuks, the Caucasus had poured forth its +strange inhabitants to swell the ranks of the Faithful. The wild tribes +of the Bactiari were even enlisted, with their fatal bows, and the +savage Turkmans, tempted by the sultan’s gold, for a moment yielded +their liberty, and shook their tall lances in his ranks. + +But what is a wild Bactiari, and what is a savage Turkman, and what +even a disciplined and imperious Seljuk, to the warriors of the God of +Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob? At the first onset, Alroy succeeded in +dividing the extended centre of Togrul, and separating the greater part +of the Turks from their less disciplined comrades. At the head of his +Median cavalry, the Messiah charged and utterly routed the warriors of +the Caucasus. The wild tribes of the Bactiari discharged their arrows +and fled, and the savage Turkmans plundered the baggage of their own +commander. + +The Turks themselves fought desperately; but, deserted by their allies, +and surrounded by an inspired foe, their efforts were unavailing, and +their slaughter terrible. Togrul was slain while heading a desperate and +fruitless charge, and, after his fall, the battle resembled a massacre +rather than a combat. The plain was glotted with Seljuk gore. No quarter +was given or asked. Twenty thousand chosen troops fell on the side +of the Turks; the rest dispersed and gained the mountains. Leaving +Scherirah to restore order, Alroy the next morning pushed on to Nishapur +at the head of three thousand horsemen, and summoned the city ere the +inhabitants were apprised of the defeat and death of their sultan. The +capital of Persia escaped the fate of Rhey by an inglorious treaty and +a lavish tribute. The treasures of the Chosroes and the Gasnevides +were despatched to Hamadan, on which city day dawned, only to bring +intelligence of a victory or a conquest. + +While Alroy dictated peace on his own terms in the palaces of Nishapur, +Abner, having reduced Louristan, crossed the mountains, and entered +Persia with the reinforcements he had received from Jabaster. Leaving +the government and garrisoning of his new conquests to this valiant +captain, Alroy, at the head of the conquerors of Persia, in consequence +of intelligence received from Hamadan, returned by forced marches to +that city. + +Leaving the army within a day’s march of the capital, Alroy, accompanied +only by his staff, entered Hamadan in the evening, and, immediately +repairing to the citadel, summoned Jabaster to council. The night was +passed by the king and the high priest in deep consultation. The next +morning, a decree apprised the inhabitants of the return of their +monarch, of the creation of the new ‘Kingdom of the Medes and Persians,’ +of which Hamadan was declared the capital, and Abner the viceroy, and +of the intended and immediate invasion of Syria, and re-conquest of the +Land of Promise. + +The plan of this expedition had been long matured, and the preparations +to effect it were considerably advanced. Jabaster had not been idle +during the absence of his pupil. One hundred thousand warriors were now +assembled[59] at the capital of the kingdom of the Medes and Persians; +of these the greater part were Hebrews, but many Arabs, wearied of the +Turkish yoke, and many gallant adventurers from the Caspian, easily +converted from a vague idolatry to a religion of conquest, swelled the +ranks of the army of the Lord of Hosts. + +The plain of Hamadan was covered with tents, the streets were filled +with passing troops, the bazaars loaded with military stores; long +caravans of camels laden with supplies every day arrived from +the neighbouring towns; each instant some high-capped Tatar with +despatches[60] rushed into the city and galloped his steed up the steep +of the citadel. The clang of arms, the prance of horses, the flourish +of warlike music, resounded from all quarters. The business and the +treasure of the world seemed, as it were in an instant, to have become +concentrated in Hamadan. Every man had some great object; gold glittered +in every hand. All great impulses were stirring; all the causes of human +energy were in lively action. Every eye sparkled, every foot trod firm +and fast. Each man acted as if the universal fate depended upon his +exertions; as if the universal will sympathised with his particular +desire. A vast population influenced by a high degree of excitement is +the most sublime of spectacles. + +The commander of the Faithful raised the standard of the Prophet on the +banks of the Tigris. It was the secret intelligence of this intended +event that had recalled Alroy so suddenly from Persia. The latent +enthusiasm of the Moslemin was excited by the rare and mystic ceremony, +and its effects were anticipated by previous and judicious preparations. +The Seljuks of Bagdad alone amounted to fifty thousand men; the Sultan +of Syria contributed the warriors who had conquered the Arabian princes +of Damascus and Aleppo; while the ancient provinces of Asia Minor, which +formed the rich and powerful kingdom of Seljukian Roum, poured forth a +myriad of that matchless cavalry, which had so often baffled the armies +of the Cæsars. Never had so imposing a force been collected on the banks +of the Tigris since the reign of Haroun Alraschid. Each day some warlike +Atabek, at the head of his armed train, poured into the capital of the +caliphs,[61] or pitched his pavilion on the banks of the river; each day +the proud emir of some remote principality astonished or affrighted +the luxurious Babylonians by the strange or uncouth warriors that had +gathered round his standard in the deserts of Arabia, or on the shores +of the Euxine. For the space of twenty miles, the banks of the river +were, on either side, far as the eye could reach, covered with the +variegated pavilions, the glittering standards, the flowing streamers +and twinkling pennons of the mighty host, of which Malek, the Grand +Sultan of the Seljuks, and Governor of the Caliph’s palace, was chief +commander. + +Such was the power assembled on the plains of Asia to arrest the +progress of the Hebrew Prince, and to prevent the conquest of the +memorable land promised to the faith of his fathers, and forfeited by +their infidelity. Before the walls of Hamadan, Alroy reviewed the army +of Israel, sixty thousand heavy-armed footmen, thirty thousand archers +and light troops, and twenty thousand cavalry. Besides these, there had +been formed a body of ten thousand picked horsemen, styled the ‘Sacred +Guard,’ all of whom had served in the Persian campaign. In their centre, +shrouded in a case of wrought gold, studded with carbuncles, and carried +on a lusty lance of cedar, a giant--for the height of Elnebar exceeded +that of common men by three feet--bore the sceptre of Solomon. The +Sacred Guard was commanded by Asriel, the brother of Abner. + +The army was formed into three divisions. All marched in solemn order +before the throne of Alroy, raised upon the ramparts, and drooped their +standards and lances as they passed their heroic leader. Bostenay, and +Miriam, and the whole population of the city witnessed the inspiring +spectacle from the walls. That same eve, Scherirah, at the head of forty +thousand men, pushed on towards Bagdad, by Kermanshah; and Jabaster, +who commanded in his holy robes, and who had vowed not to lay aside his +sword until the rebuilding of the temple, conducted his division over +the victorious plain of Nehauend. They were to concentrate at the pass +of Kerrund, which conducted into the province of Bagdad, and await the +arrival of the king. + +At the dawn of day, the royal division and the Sacred Guard, the whole +under the command of Asriel, quitted the capital. Alroy still lingered, +and for some hours the warriors of his staff might have been observed +lounging about the citadel, or practising their skill in throwing the +jerreed as they exercised their impatient chargers before the gates. + +The king was with the Lady Miriam, walking in the garden of their +uncle. One arm was wound round her delicate waist, and with the other +he clasped her soft and graceful hand. The heavy tears burst from her +downcast eyes, and stole along her pale and pensive cheek. They walked +in silence, the brother and the sister, before the purity of whose +surpassing love even ambition vanished. He opened the lattice gate. +They entered into the valley small and green; before them was the marble +fountain with its columns and cupola, and in the distance the charger of +Alroy and his single attendant. + +They stopped, and Alroy gathered flowers, and placed them in the hair of +Miriam. He would have softened the bitterness of parting with a smile. +Gently he relaxed his embracing arm, almost insensibly he dropped her +quivering hand. + +‘Sister of my soul,’ he whispered, ‘when we last parted here, I was a +fugitive, and now I quit you a conqueror.’ + +She turned, she threw herself upon his neck, and buried her face in his +breast. + +‘My Miriam, we shall meet at Bagdad.’ + +He beckoned to her distant maidens; they advanced, he delivered Miriam +into their arms. He pressed her hand to his lips, and, rushing to his +horse, mounted and disappeared. + +A body of irregular cavalry feebly defended the pass of Kerrund. It +was carried, with slight loss, by the vanguard of Scherirah, and the +fugitives prepared the host of the caliph for the approach of the Hebrew +army. + +Upon the plain of the Tigris the enemy formed into battle array. The +centre was commanded by Malek, the Grand Sultan of the Seljuks himself; +the right wing, headed by the Sultan of Syria, was protected by the +river; and the left, under the Sultan of Roum, was posted upon the +advantageous position of some irregular and rising ground. Thus proud +in the number, valour, discipline, and disposition of his forces, Malek +awaited the conqueror of Persia. + +The glittering columns of the Hebrews might even now be perceived +defiling from the mountains, and forming at the extremity of the plain. +Before nightfall the camp of the invaders was pitched within hearing of +that of Malek. The moving lights in the respective tents might plainly +be distinguished; and ever and anon the flourish of hostile music fell +with an ominous sound upon the ears of the opposed foe-men. A few miles +only separated those mighty hosts. Upon to-morrow depended, perhaps, the +fortunes of ages. How awful is the eve of battle! + +Alroy, attended by a few chieftains, personally visited the tents of +the soldiery, promising them on the morrow a triumph, before which the +victories of Nehauend and Nishapur would sink into insignificance. Their +fiery and excited visages proved at once their courage and their +faith. The sceptre of Solomon was paraded throughout the camp in solemn +procession. On the summit of a huge tumulus, perhaps the sepulchre +of some classic hero, Esther, the prophetess, surrounded by the chief +zealots of the host, poured forth her exciting inspirations. It was a +grand picture, that beautiful wild girl, the groups of stern, devoted +warriors, the red flame of the watch-fires mixing with the silver +shadows of the moon as they illumined the variegated turbans and +gleaming armour of her votaries! + +In the pavilion of Alroy, Jabaster consulted with his pupil on the +conduct of the morrow. + +‘This is a different scene from the cavern of the Caucasus,’ said Alroy, +as the high priest rose to retire. + +‘It has one great resemblance, sire; the God of our fathers is with us.’ + +‘Ay! the Lord of Hosts. Moses was a great man. There is no career except +conquest.’ + +‘You muse.’ + +‘Of the past. The present is prepared. Too much thought will mar it.’ + +‘The past is for wisdom, the present for action, but for joy the future. +The feeling that the building of the temple is at hand, that the Lord’s +anointed will once again live in the house of David, absorbs my spirit; +and, when I muse over our coming glory, in my fond ecstasy I almost lose +the gravity that doth beseem my sacred office.’ + +‘Jerusalem; I have seen it. How many hours to dawn?’ + +‘Some three.’ + +‘‘Tis strange I could sleep. I remember, on the eve of battle I was ever +anxious. How is this, Jabaster?’ + +‘Your faith, sire, is profound.’ + +‘Yes, I have no fear. My destiny is not complete. Good night, Jabaster. +See, Asriel, valiant priest. Pharez!’ + +‘My lord!’ + +‘Rouse me at the second watch. Good night, boy.’ + +‘Good night, my lord.’ + +‘Pharez! Be sure you rouse me at the second watch. Think you it wants +three hours to dawn?’ + +‘About three hours, my lord.’ + +‘Well! at the second watch, remember; good night.’ + +‘It is the second watch, my lord.’ + +‘So soon! Have I slept? I feel fresh as an eagle. Call Scherirah, boy.’ + +‘‘Tis strange I never dream now. Before my flight my sleep was ever +troubled. Say what they like, man is made for action. My life is now +harmonious, and sleep has now become what nature willed it, a solace, +not a contest. Before, it was a struggle of dark passions and bright +dreams, in whose creative fancy and fair vision my soul sought refuge +from the dreary bale of daily reality. + +‘I will withdraw the curtains of my tent. O most majestic vision! And +have I raised this host? Over the wide plain, far as my eye can range, +their snowy tents studding the purple landscape, embattled legions +gather round their flags to struggle for my fate. It is the agony of +Asia. + +‘A year ago, upon this very spot, I laid me down to die, an unknown +thing, or known and recognised only to be despised, and now the sultans +of the world come forth to meet me. I have no fear. My destiny is not +complete. And whither tends it? Let that power decide which hitherto has +fashioned all my course. + +‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem! ever harping on Jerusalem. With all his lore, +he is a narrow-minded zealot whose dreaming memory would fondly make +a future like the past. O Bagdad, Bagdad, within thy glittering halls, +there is a charm worth all his Cabala! + +‘Hah! Scherirah! The dawn is near at hand, the stars are still shining. +The air is very pleasant. Tomorrow will be a great day, Scherirah, for +Israel and for you. You lead the attack. A moment in my tent, my brave +Scherirah!’ + +The dawn broke; a strong column of the Hebrews, commanded by Scherirah, +poured down upon the centre of the army of the caliph. Another column, +commanded by Jabaster, attacked the left wing, headed by the Sultan +of Roum. No sooner had Alroy perceived that the onset of Scherirah had +succeeded in penetrating the centre of the Turks, than he placed himself +at the head of the Sacred Guard, and by an irresistible charge completed +their disorder and confusion. The division of the Sultan of Syria, and +a great part of the centre, were entirely routed and driven into the +river, and the remainder of the division of Malek was effectually +separated from his left wing. + +But while to Alroy the victory seemed already decided, a far different +fate awaited the division of Jabaster. The Sultan of Roum, posted in +an extremely advantageous position, and commanding troops accustomed to +the discipline of the Romans of Constantinople, received the onset of +Jabaster without yielding, and not only repelled his attack, but finally +made a charge which completely disordered and dispersed the column of +the Hebrews. In vain Jabaster endeavoured to rally his troops, in vain +he performed prodigies of valour, in vain he himself struck down the +standard-bearer of the sultan, and once even penetrated to the pavilion +of the monarch. His division was fairly routed. The eagerness of the +Sultan of Roum to effect the annihilation of his antagonists prevented +him from observing the forlorn condition of the Turkish centre. Had he, +after routing the division of Jabaster, only attacked Alroy in the rear, +the fortune of the day might have been widely different. As it was, the +eagle eye of Alroy soon detected his inadvertence, and profited by his +indiscretion. Leaving Ithamar to keep the centre in check, he charged +the Sultan of Roum with the Sacred Guard, and afforded Jabaster an +opportunity of rallying some part of his forces. The Sultan of Roum, +perceiving that the day was lost by the ill-conduct of his colleagues, +withdrew his troops, retreated in haste, but in good order to Bagdad, +carried off the caliph, his harem, and some of his treasure, and +effected his escape into Syria. In the meantime the discomfiture of +the remaining Turkish army was complete. The Tigris was dyed with their +blood, and the towns through which the river flowed were apprised of the +triumph of Alroy by the floating corpses of his enemies. Thirty thousand +Turks were slain in battle: among them the Sultans of Bagdad and Syria, +and a vast number of atabeks, emirs, and chieftains. A whole division, +finding themselves surrounded, surrendered on terms, and delivered up +their arms. The camps and treasures of the three sultans were alike +captured, and the troops that escaped so completely dispersed, that they +did not attempt to rally, but, disbanded and desperate, prowled over and +plundered the adjoining provinces. The loss of the division of Jabaster +was also severe, but the rest of the army suffered little. Alroy himself +was slightly wounded. The battle lasted barely three hours. Its results +were immense. David Alroy was now master of the East. + +The plain was covered with the corpses of men and horses, arms and +standards, and prostrate tents. Returning from the pursuit of the Sultan +of Roum, Alroy ordered the trumpets to sound to arms, and, covered +with gore and dust, dismounted from his charger, and stood before the +pavilion of Malek, leaning on his bloody scimitar, and surrounded by his +victorious generals. + +‘Ah, Jabaster!’ said the conqueror, giving his hand to the pontiff, +‘‘twas well your troops had such a leader. No one but you could have +rallied them. + +You must drill your lads a little before they again meet the Cappadocian +cavalry. Brave Scherirah, we shall not forget our charge. Asriel, tell +the guard, from me, that the victory of the Tigris was owing to their +scimitars. Ithamar, what are our freshest troops?’ + +‘The legion of Aderbijan, sire.’ + +‘How strong can they muster?’ + +‘It counts twelve thousand men: we might collect two-thirds.’ + +‘Valiant Ithamar, take the Aderbijans and a division of the guards, push +on towards Bagdad, and summon the city. If his Sultanship of Roum offer +battle, take up a position, and he shall quickly have his desire. For +the present, after these hasty marches and sharp fighting, the troops +must rest. I think he will not tarry. Summon the city, and say that if +any resistance be offered, I will make it as desolate as old Babylon. +Treat with no armed force. Where is the soldier that saved me a cracked +skull; his name Benaiah?’ + +‘I wait your bidding, sire.’ + +‘You’re a captain. Join the division of Ithamar, and win fresh laurels +ere we meet again. Gentle Asriel, let your brother know our fortune.’ + +‘Sire, several Tartars have already been despatched to Hamadan.’ + +‘‘Tis well. Send another with these tablets to the Lady Miriam. Despatch +the pavilion of Malek as a trophy for the town. Elnebar, Goliath of +the Hebrews, you bore our sacred standard like a hero! How fares the +prophetess? I saw her charging in our ranks, waving a sabre with her +snowy arm, her long, dark hair streaming like a storm, from which her +eyes flashed lightning.’ + + +‘The king bleeds,’ said Jabaster. + +‘Slightly. It will do me service. I am somewhat feverish. A kingdom +for a draught of water! And now for our wounded friends. Asriel, do you +marshal the camp. It is the Sabbath eve.[62] Time presses.’ + +The dead were plundered, and thrown into the river, the encampment of +the Hebrews completed. Alroy, with his principal officers, visited the +wounded, and praised the valiant. The bustle which always succeeds a +victory was increased in the present instance by the anxiety of the army +to observe with grateful strictness the impending Sabbath. + +When the sun set, the Sabbath was to commence. The undulating horizon +rendered it difficult to ascertain the precise moment of the setting. +The crimson orb sunk behind the purple mountains, the sky was flushed +with a rich and rosy glow. Then might be perceived the zealots, proud in +their Talmudical lore, holding a skein of white silk in their hands, +and announcing the approach of the Sabbath by their observation of +its shifting tints. While the skein was yet golden, the forge of the +armourer still sounded, the fire of the cook still blazed, still the +cavalry led their steeds to the river, and still the busy footmen braced +up their tents and hammered at their palisades. The skein of silk became +rosy, the armourer worked with renewed energy, the cook puffed with +increased zeal, the horsemen scampered from the river, the footmen cast +an anxious glance at the fading twilight. + +The skein of silk became blue; a dim, dull, sepulchral, leaden tinge +fell over its purity. The hum of gnats arose, the bat flew in circling +whirls over the tents, horns sounded from all quarters, the sun had set, +the Sabbath had commenced. ‘The forge was mute, the fire extinguished, +the prance of horses and the bustle of men in a moment ceased. A deep, a +sudden, an all-pervading stillness dropped over that mighty host. It +was night; the sacred lamp of the Sabbath sparkled in every tent of the +camp, which vied in silence and in brilliancy with the mute and glowing +heavens. + +Morn came; the warriors assembled around the altar and the sacrifice. +The high priest and his attendant Levites proclaimed the unity and the +omnipotence of the God of Israel, and the sympathetic responses of his +conquering and chosen people reechoed over the plain. They retired +again to their tents, to listen to the expounding of the law; even +the distance of a Sabbath walk was not to exceed that space which +lies between Jerusalem and the Mourft of Olives. This was the distance +between the temple and the tabernacle; it had been nicely measured, and +every Hebrew who ventured forth from the camp this day might be observed +counting the steps of a Sabbath-day’s journey. At length the sun again +set, and on a sudden fires blazed, voices sounded, men stirred, in +the same enchanted and instantaneous manner that had characterised the +stillness of the preceding eve. Shouts of laughter, bursts of music, +announced the festivity of the coming night; supplies poured in from all +the neighbouring villages, and soon the pious conquerors commemorated +their late triumph in a round of banqueting. + +On the morrow, a Tatar arrived from Ithamar, informing Alroy that the +Sultan of Roum had retreated into Syria, that Bagdad was undefended, but +that he had acceded to the request of the inhabitants that a deputation +should wait upon Alroy before the troops entered the city, and had +granted a safe conduct for their passage. + +On the morrow, messengers announced the approach of the deputation. All +the troops were under arms. Alroy directed that the suppliants should +be conducted through the whole camp before they arrived at the royal +pavilion, on each side of which the Sacred Guard was mustered in array. +The curtains of his tent withdrawn displayed the conqueror himself, +seated on a sumptuous divan. On his right hand stood Jabaster in his +priestly robes, on his left Scherirah. Behind him, the giant Elnebar +supported the sacred sceptre. A crowd of chieftains was ranged on each +side of the pavilion. + +Cymbals sounded, muffled kettle-drums, and the faint flourish of +trumpets; the commencement of the procession might be detected in the +long perspective of the tented avenue. First came a company of beauteous +youths, walking two by two, and strewing flowers; then a band of +musicians in flowing robes of cloth of gold, plaintively sounding their +silver trumpets. After these followed slaves of all climes, bearing +a tribute of the most rare and costly productions of their countries: +Negroes with tusks and teeth of the elephant, plumes of ostrich +feathers, and caskets of gold dust; Syrians with rich armour; Persians +with vases of atar-gul, and Indians with panniers of pearls of Ormuz, +and soft shawls of Cachemire. Encircled by his children, each of whom +held alternately a white or fawn-coloured gazelle, an Arab clothed in +his blue bornouz, led by a thick cord of crimson silk a tall and tawny +giraffe. Fifty stout men succeeded two by two, carrying in company a +silver shield laden with gold coin, or chased goblets studded with gems. + +The clash of cymbals announced the presence of the robes of honour,[63] +culled from the wardrobe of the commander of the Faithful; the silk of +Aleppo and the brocade of Damascus, lined with the furs of the sable +and the ermine, down from the breast of the swan, and the skins of white +foxes. + +After these followed two grey dromedaries, with furniture of silver, and +many caparisoned horses, each led by a groom in rich attire. The last +of these was a snow-white steed, upon whose front was the likeness of a +ruby star, a courser of the sacred stud of Solomon, and crossed only by +the descendants of the Prophet. + +The muffled kettle-drums heralded the company of black eunuchs, with +their scarlet vests and ivory battle-axes. They surrounded and shrouded +from the vulgar gaze fourteen beautiful Circassian girls, whose +brilliant visages and perfect forms were otherwise concealed by their +long veils and ample drapery. + +The gorgeous procession, as they approached the conqueror, bowed humbly +to Alroy, and formed in order on each side of the broad avenue. The +deputation appeared; twelve of the principal citizens of Bagdad, with +folded arms, and downcast eyes, and disordered raiment. Meekly and +mutely each touched the earth with his hand, and kissed it in token of +submission, and then, moving aside, made way for the chief envoy and +orator of the company, Honain! + +Humbly, but gracefully, the physician of the caliph bowed before the +conqueror of the East. His appearance and demeanour afforded a contrast +to the aspect of his brother envoys; not less calm or contented his +countenance, not less sumptuous or studied his attire, than when he +first rescued Alroy in the bazaar of Bagdad from the grip of the false +Abdallah. + +He spoke, and every sound was hushed before the music of his voice. + +‘Conqueror of the world, that destiny with which it is in vain to +struggle has placed our lives and fortunes in your power. Your slaves +offer for your approbation specimens of their riches; not as tribute, +for all is yours; but to show you the products of security and peace, +and to induce you to believe that mercy may be a policy as profitable +to the conqueror as to the conquered; that it may be better to preserve +than to destroy; and wiser to enjoy than to extirpate. + +‘Fate ordained that we should be born the slaves of the caliph; that +same fate has delivered his sceptre into your hands. We offer you the +same devotion that we yielded to him, and we entreat the same protection +which he granted to us. + +‘Whatever may be your decision, we must bow to your decree with the +humility that recognises superior force. Yet we are not without hope. +We cannot forget that it is our good fortune not to be addressing +a barbarous chieftain, unable to sympathise with the claims of +civilisation, the creations of art, and the finer impulses of humanity. +We acknowledge your irresistible power, but we dare to hope everything +from a prince whose genius all acknowledge and admire, who has spared +some portion of his youth from the cares of government and the pursuits +of arms to the ennobling claims of learning, whose morality has been +moulded by a pure and sublime faith, and who draws his lineage from a +sacred and celebrated race, the unrivalled antiquity of which even the +Prophet acknowledges.’ + +He ceased: a buzz of approbation sounded throughout the pavilion, which +was hushed instantly as the lips of the conqueror moved. + +‘Noble emir,’ replied Alroy, ‘return to Bagdad, and tell your +fellow-subjects that the King of Israel grants protection to their +persons, and security to their property.’ + +‘And for their faith?’ enquired the envoy, in a lower voice. + +‘Toleration,’ replied Alroy, turning to Jabaster. + +‘Until further regulations,’ added the high priest. + +‘Emir,’ said Alroy, ‘the person of the caliph will be respected.’ + +‘May it please your highness,’ replied Honain, ‘the Sultan of Roum has +retired with our late ruler.’ + +‘And his harem?’ + +‘And his harem.’ + +‘It was needless. We war not with women.’ + +‘Men, as well as women, must acknowledge the gracious mercy of your +highness.’ + +‘Benomi,’ said Alroy, addressing himself to a young officer of the +guard, ‘command the guard of honour that will attend this noble emir on +his return. We soldiers deal only in iron, sir, and cannot vie with the +magnificence of Bagdad, yet wear this dagger for the donor’s sake:’ and +Alroy held out to Honain a poniard flaming with gems. + +The Envoy of Bagdad advanced, took the dagger, pressed it to his lips, +and placed it in his vest.[64] + +‘Scherirah,’ continued Alroy, ‘this noble emir is your charge. See +that a choice pavilion of the host be for his use, and that his train +complain not of the rough customs of our camp.’ + +‘May it please your highness,’ replied Honain, ‘I have fulfilled my +office, and, with your gracious permission, would at once return. I have +business only less urgent than the present, because it concerns myself.’ + +‘As you will, noble emir. Benomi, to your post. Farewell, sir.’ + +The deputation advanced, bowed, and retired. Alroy turned to Jabaster. + +‘No common person that, Jabaster?’ + +‘A very gracious Turk, sire.’ + +‘Think you he is a Turk?’ + +‘By his dress.’ + +‘It may be so. Asriel, break up the camp. We’ll march at once to +Bagdad.’ + +The chiefs dispersed to make the necessary arrangements for the march. +The news that the army was immediately to advance to Bagdad soon +circulated throughout the camp, and excited the most lively enthusiasm. +Every hand was at work, striking the tents, preparing the arms and +horses. Alroy retired to his pavilion. The curtains were drawn. He was +alone, and plunged in profound meditation. + +‘Alroy!’ a voice sounded. + +He started, and looked up. Before him stood Esther the prophetess. + +‘Esther! is it thou?’ + +‘Alroy! enter not into Babylon.’ + +‘Indeed.’ + +‘As I live, the Lord hath spoken it. Enter not into Babylon.’ + +‘Not enjoy my fairest conquest, maiden?’ + +‘Enter not into Babylon.’ + +‘What affrights thee?’ + +‘Enter not into Babylon.’ + +‘I shall surely change the fortunes of my life without a cause.’ + +‘The Lord hath spoken. Is not that a cause?’ + +‘I am the Lord’s anointed. His warning has not reached me.’ + +‘Now it reaches thee. Doth the king despise the prophetess of the Lord? +It is the sin of Ahab.’ + +‘Despise thee! Despise the mouth that is the herald of my victories! +‘Twere rank blasphemy. Prophesy triumph, Esther, and Alroy will never +doubt thy inspiration.’ + +‘He doubts it now. I see he doubts it now. O my king, I say again, enter +not into Babylon.’ + +‘Beauteous maiden, those eyes flash lightning. Who can behold their wild +and liquid glance, and doubt that Esther is inspired! Be calm, sweet +girl, some dream disturbs thy fancy.’ + +‘Alroy, Alroy, enter not into Babylon!’ + +‘I have no fear, I bear a charmed life.’ + +‘Ah me! he will not listen.’ All is lost!’ + +‘All is gained, my beautiful.’ + +‘I would we were upon the Holy Mount, and gazing on the stars of sacred +Zion.’ + +‘Esther,’ said Alroy, advancing, and gently taking her hand, ‘the +capital of the East will soon unfold its marvels to thy sight. Prepare +thyself for wonders. Girl, we are no longer in the desert. Forget thy +fitful fancies. Come, choose a husband from my generals, child, and I +will give a kingdom for thy dower. I would gladly see a crown upon that +imperial brow. It well deserves one.’ + +The prophetess turned her dark eyes full upon Alroy. What passed in her +mind was neither evident nor expressed. She gazed intently upon the calm +and inscrutable countenance of the conqueror, then flung away his hand, +and rushed out of the pavilion. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + _Bagdad and the Princess_ + +THE waving of banners, the flourish of trumpets, the neighing of steeds, +and the glitter of spears! On the distant horizon they gleam like the +morning, when the gloom of the night shivers bright into day. Hark! +the tramp of the foemen, like the tide of the ocean, flows onward and +onward, and conquers the shore. From the brow of the mountain, like the +rush of a river, the column defiling melts into the plain. + +Warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord! The land wherein +your fathers wept, and touched their plaintive psalteries; the haughty +city where your sires bewailed their cold and distant hearths; your +steeds are prancing on its plain, and you shall fill its palaces. +Warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord! + +March, onward march, ye valiant tribes, the hour has come, the hour has +come! All the promises of ages, all the signs of sacred sages, meet in +this ravishing hour. Where is now the oppressor’s chariot, where your +tyrant’s purple robe? The horse and the rider are both overthrown, the +horse and the rider are both overthrown! + +Rise, Rachel, from thy wilderness, arise, and weep no more. No more thy +lonely palm-tree’s shade need shroud thy secret sorrowing. The Lord +hath heard the widow’s sigh, the Lord hath stilled the widow’s tear. Be +comforted, be comforted, thy children live again! + +Yes! yes! upon the bounding plain fleet Asriel glances like a star, and +stout Scherirah shakes his spear by stern Jabaster’s scimitar. And He is +there, the chosen one, hymned by prophetic harps, whose life is like the +morning dew on Zion’s holy hill: the chosen one, the chosen one, that +leads his race to victory; warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for +the Lord! + +They come, they come, they come! + +The ramparts of the city were crowded with the inhabitants, the river +sparkled with ten thousand boats, the bazaars were shut, the streets +lined with the populace, and the terrace of every house covered with +spectators. In the morning, Ithamar had entered with his division and +garrisoned the city. And now the vanguard of the Hebrew army, after +having been long distinguished in the distance, approached the walls. A +large body of cavalry dashed forward at full speed from the main +force. Upon a milk-white charger, and followed by a glittering train of +warriors, amid the shouts of the vast multitude, Alroy galloped up to +the gates. + +He was received by Ithamar and the members of the deputation, but Honain +was not there. Accompanied by his staff and a strong detachment of the +Sacred Guard, Alroy was conducted through the principal thoroughfares +of the city, until he arrived at the chief entrance of the serail, +or palace, of the caliph. The vast portal conducted him into a large +quadrangular court, where he dismounted, and where he was welcomed by +the captain of the eunuch guard. Accompanied by his principal generals +and his immediate attendants, Alroy was then ushered through a suite of +apartments which reminded him of his visit with Honain, until he arrived +at the grand council-chamber of the caliphs. + +The conqueror threw himself upon the gorgeous divan of the commander of +the Faithful. + +‘An easy seat after a long march,’ said Alroy, as he touched with his +lips the coffee, which the chief of the eunuchs presented to him in a +cup of transparent pink porcelain, studded with pearls.[65] ‘Itha-mar, +now for your report. What is the temper of the city? Where is his +Sultanship of Roum?’ + +‘The city, sire, is calm, and I believe content. The sultan and the +caliph are still hovering on the borders of the province.’ + +‘So I supposed. Scherirah will settle that. Let the troops be encamped +without the walls, the garrison, ten thousand strong, must be changed +monthly. Ithamar, you are governor of the city: Asriel commands the +forces. Worthy Jabaster, draw up a report of the civil affairs of +the capital. Your quarters are the College of the Dervishes. Brave +Scherirah, I cannot afford you a long rest. In three days you must have +crossed the river with your division. It will be quick work. I foresee +that they will not fight. Meet me all here in council by to-morrow’s +noon. Farewell.’ + +The chieftains retired, the high priest lingered. + +‘Were it not an intrusion, sire, I would fain entreat a moment’s +audience.’ + +‘My own Jabaster, you have but to speak.’ + +‘Sire, I would speak of Abidan, as valiant a warrior as any in the +host. It grieves me much, that by some fatality, his services seem ever +overlooked.’ + +‘Abidan! I know him well, a valiant man, but a dreamer, a dreamer.’ + +‘A dreamer, sire! Believe me, a true son of Israel, and one whose faith +is deep.’ + +‘Good Jabaster, we are all true sons of Israel. Yet let me have +men about me who see no visions in a mid-day sun. We must beware of +dreamers.’ + +‘Dreams are the oracles of God.’ + +‘When God sends them. Very true, Jabaster. But this Abidan and the +company with whom he consorts are filled with high-flown notions, +caught from old traditions, which, if acted on, would render government +impracticable; in a word, they are dangerous men.’ + +‘The very flower of Israel! Some one has poisoned your sacred ear +against them.’ + +‘No one, worthy Jabaster. I have no counsellor except yourself. They may +be the flower of Israel, but they are not the fruit. Good warriors, bad +subjects: excellent means, by which we may accomplish greater ends. +I’ll have no dreamers in authority. I must have practical men about +me, practical men. See how Abner, Asriel, Ithamar, Medad, see how these +conform to what surrounds them, yet invincible captains, invincible +captains. But then they are practical men, Jabaster; they have eyes +and use them. They know the difference of times and seasons. But this +Abidan, he has no other thought but the rebuilding of the temple: a +narrow-souled bigot, who would sacrifice the essence to the form. The +rising temple soon would fall again with such constructors. Why, sir, +what think you, this same Abidan preached in the camp against my entry +into what the quaint fanatic chooses to call “Babylon,” because he had +seen what he calls a vision.’ + +‘There was a time your Majesty thought not so ill of visions.’ + +‘Am I Abidan, sir? Are other men to mould their conduct or their +thoughts by me? In this world I stand alone, a being of a different +order from yourselves, incomprehensible even to you. Let this matter +cease. I’ll hear no more and have heard too much. To-morrow at council.’ + +The high priest withdrew in silence. + +‘He is gone; at length I am alone. I cannot bear the presence of these +men, except in action. Their words, even their looks, disturb the still +creation of my brooding thought. I am once more alone, and loneliness +hath been the cradle of my empire. Now I do feel inspired. There needs +no mummery now to work a marvel. + +‘The sceptre of Solomon! It may be so. What then? Here’s now the sceptre +of Alroy. What’s that without his mind? The legend said that none should +free our people but he who bore the sceptre of great Solomon. The legend +knew that none could gain that sceptre, but with a mind to whose supreme +volition the fortunes of the world would bow like fate. I gained it; I +confronted the spectre monarchs in their sepulchre; and the same hand +that grasped their shadowy rule hath seized the diadem of the mighty +caliphs by the broad rushing of their imperial river. + +‘The world is mine: and shall I yield the prize, the universal and +heroic prize, to realise the dull tradition of some dreaming priest, +and consecrate a legend? He conquered Asia, and he built the temple. Are +these my annals? Shall this quick blaze of empire sink to a glimmering +and a twilight sway over some petty province, the decent patriarch of a +pastoral horde? Is the Lord of Hosts so slight a God, that we must place +a barrier to His sovereignty, and fix the boundaries of Omnipotence +between the Jordan and the Lebanon? It is not thus written; and were it +so, I’ll pit my inspiration against the prescience of my ancestors. +I also am a prophet, and Bagdad shall be my Zion. The daughter of +the Voice! Well, I am clearly summoned. I am the Lord’s servant, not +Jabaster’s. Let me make His worship universal as His power; and where’s +the priest shall dare impugn my faith, because His altars smoke on other +hills than those of Judah? + +‘I must see Honain. That man has a great mind. He alone can comprehend +my purpose. Universal empire must not be founded on sectarian prejudices +and exclusive rights. Jabaster would massacre the Moslemin like Amalek; +the Moslemin, the vast majority, and most valuable portion, of my +subjects. He would depopulate my empire, that it might not be said that +Ishmael shared the heritage of Israel. Fanatic! I’ll send him to conquer +Judah. We must conciliate. Something must be done to bind the conquered +to our conquering fortunes. That bold Sultan of Roum: I wish Abner had +opposed him. To run off with the harem! I have half a mind to place +myself at the head of the pursuing force, and---- Passion and policy +alike combine: and yet Honain is the man; I might send him on a mission. +Could we make terms? I detest treaties. My fancy flies from all other +topics. I must see him. Could I but tell him all I think! This door, +whither leads it? Hah! methinks I do remember yon glittering gallery! +No one in attendance. The discipline of our palace is somewhat lax. +My warriors are no courtiers. What an admirable marshal of the palace +Honain would make! Silence everywhere. So! ‘tis well. These saloons I +have clearly passed through before. Could I but reach the private portal +by the river side, unseen or undetected! ‘Tis not impossible. Here are +many dresses. I will disguise myself. Trusty scimitar, thou hast done +thy duty, rest awhile. ‘Tis lucky I am beardless. I shall make a capital +eunuch. So! a handsome robe. One dagger for a pinch, slippers powdered +with pearls,66 a caftan of cloth of gold, a Cachemire girdle, and a +pelisse of sables. One glance at the mirror. Good! I begin to look like +the conqueror of the world!’ + +It was twilight: a small and solitary boat, with a single rower, glided +along the Tigris, and stopped at the archway of a house that descended +into the river. It stopped, the boatman withdrew the curtains, and his +single passenger disembarked, and ascended the stairs of the archway. + +The stranger reached the landing-place, and unfastening a golden grate, +proceeded along a gallery, and entered a beautiful saloon of white and +green marble, opening into gardens. No one was in the apartment; the +stranger threw himself upon a silver couch, placed at the side of +a fountain that rose from the centre of the chamber and fell into a +porphyry basin. A soft whisper roused the stranger from his reverie, a +soft whisper that faintly uttered the word ‘Honain.’ The stranger looked +up, a figure, enveloped in a veil, that touched the ground, advanced +from the gardens. + +‘Honain!’ said the advancing figure, throwing off the veil. ‘Honain! Ah! +the beautiful mute returned!’ + +A woman more lovely than the rosy morn, beheld an unexpected guest. They +stood, the lady and the stranger, gazing on each other in silence. +A man, with a light, entered the extremity of the hall. Carefully +he closed the portal, slowly he advanced, with a subdued step; he +approached the lady and the stranger. + +‘Alroy!’ said the astonished Honain, the light fell from his hand. + +‘Alroy!’ exclaimed the lady, with a bewildered air: she turned pale, and +leant against a column. + +‘Daughter of the caliph!’ said the leader of Israel; and he advanced, +and fell upon his knee, and stole her passive hand. ‘I am indeed that +Alroy to whom destiny has delivered the empire of thy sire; but the +Princess Schirene can have nothing to fear from one who values above +all his victories this memorial of her goodwill;’ and he took from his +breast a rosary of pearls and emeralds, and, rising slowly, left it in +her trembling hand. + +The princess turned and hid her face in her arm, which reclined against +the column. + +‘My kind Honain,’ said Alroy, ‘you thought me forgetful of the past; you +thought me ungrateful. My presence here proves that I am not so. I come +to enquire all your wishes. I come to gratify and to fulfil them, if +that be in my power.’ + +‘Sire,’ replied Honain, who had recovered from the emotion in which +he rarely indulged, and from the surprise which seldom entrapped him, +‘Sire, my wishes are slight. You see before you the daughter of my +master. An interview, for which I fear I shall not easily gain that +lady’s pardon, has made you somewhat acquainted with her situation and +her sentiments. The Princess Schirene seized the opportunity of the +late convulsions to escape from a mode of life long repugnant to all +her feelings, and from a destiny at which she trembled. I was her only +counsellor, and she may feel assured, a faithful, although perhaps an +indiscreet one. The irresistible solicitation of the inhabitants that I +should become their deputy to their conqueror prevented us from escaping +as we had intended. Since then, from the movement of the troops, I have +deemed it more prudent that we should remain at present here, although +I have circulated the intelligence of my departure. In the kiosk of my +garden, the princess is now a willing prisoner. At twilight she +steals forth for the poor relaxation of my society, to listen to the +intelligence which I acquire during the day in disguise. The history, +sire, is short and simple. We are in your power: but instead of +deprecating your interference, I now solicit your protection.’ + +‘Dear Honain, ‘tis needless. The Princess Schirene has only to express +a wish that it may be fulfilled. I came to speak with you on weighty +matters, Honain, but I retire, for I am an intruder now. Tomorrow, if +it please you, at this hour, and in this disguise, I will again repair +hither. In the meantime, this lady may perchance express to you her +wishes, and you will bear them to me. If an escort to any country, if +any palace or province for her rule and residence---- But I will not +offer to one who should command. Lady! farewell. Pardon the past! +Tomorrow, good Honain! prythee let us meet. Good even!’ + +‘The royal brow was clouded,’ said Ithamar to Asriel, as, departing from +the council, they entered their magnificent barque. + +‘With thought; he has so much upon his mind, ‘tis wondrous how he bears +himself.’ + +‘I have seen him gay on the eve of battle, and lively though calm, with +weightier matters than now oppress him. His brow was clouded, but not, +me-thinks, with _thought_; one might rather say with _temper_. Mark you, +how he rated Jabaster?’ + +‘Roundly! The stern priest writhed under it; and as he signed the +ordinance, shivered his reed in rage. I never saw a man more pale.’ + +‘Or more silent. He looked like an embodied storm. I tell you what, +Asriel, that stern priest loves not us.’ + +‘Have you just discovered that secret, Ithamar? We are not of his +school. Nor, in good faith, is our ruler. I am glad to see the king is +so staunch about Abidan. Were he in council he would support Jabaster.’ + +‘Oh! his mere tool. What think you of Scherirah?’ + +‘I would not trust him. As long as there is fighting, he will meddle +with nothing else; but, mark my words, Ithamar: in quiet times he will +support the priest.’ + +‘Medad will have a place in council. He is with us.’ + +‘Heart and soul. I would your brother were here, Asriel: he alone could +balance Jabaster. Alroy loves your brother like himself. Is it true that +he marries the Lady Miriam?’ + +‘So the king wishes. ‘Twill be a fine match for Abner.’ + +‘The world is all before us. I wonder who will be viceroy of Syria.’ + +‘When we conquer it. Not Scherirah. Mark my words, Ithamar: he never +will have a government. You or I perchance. For my own part, I would +rather remain as I am.’ + +‘Yours is a good post; the best.’ + +‘With the command of the city. It should go with the guard.’ + +‘Well, then, help me in getting Syria, and you can ask for my command.’ + +‘Agreed. Jabaster will have it that, in a Hebrew monarchy, the chief +priest is in fact the grand vizir.’ + +‘Alroy will be his own minister.’ + +‘I am not so sure of that. He may choose to command the Syrian +expedition in person; he must leave some head at Bagdad. Jabaster is no +general.’ + +‘Oh! none at all. Alroy will be glad to leave him at home. The Sultan of +Roum may not be always so merciful.’ + +‘Hah! hah! that was an escape!’ + +‘By heavens! I thought it was all over. You made a fine charge.’ + +‘I shall never forget it. I nearly ran over Jabaster.’ + +‘Would that you had!’ + +It is the tender twilight hour when maidens in their lonely bower sigh +softer than the eve! The languid rose her head upraises, and listens to +the nightingale, while his wild and thrilling praises from his trembling +bosom gush: the languid rose her head upraises, and listens with a +blush. + +In the clear and rosy air, sparkling with a single star, the sharp +and spiry cypress-tree rises like a gloomy thought, amid the flow +of revelry. A singing bird, a single star, a solemn tree, an odorous +flower, are dangerous in the tender hour, when maidens in their twilight +bower sigh softer than the eve! + +The daughter of the caliph comes forth to breathe the air: her lute her +only company. She sits her down by a fountain’s side, and gazes on the +waterfall. Her cheek reclines upon her arm, like fruit upon a graceful +bough. Very pensive is the face of that bright and beauteous lady. She +starts; a warm voluptuous lip presses her soft and idle hand. It is her +own gazelle. With his large and lustrous eyes, more eloquent than many +a tongue, the fond attendant mutely asks the cause of all her +thoughtfulness. + +‘Ah! bright gazelle! Ah! bright gazelle!’ the princess cried, the +princess cried; ‘thy lips are softer than the swan, thy lips are softer +than the swan; but his breathed passion when they pressed, my bright +gazelle! my bright gazelle! + +‘Ah! bright gazelle! Ah! bright gazelle!’ the princess cried, the +princess cried; ‘thine eyes are like the stars of night, thine eyes are +like the stars of night; but his glanced passion when they gazed, my +bright gazelle! my bright gazelle!’ + +She seized her lute, she wildly threw her fingers o’er its thrilling +strings, and, gazing on the rosy sky, to borrow all its poetry, thus, +thus she sang--thus, thus she sang: + + He rose in beauty like the morn + That brightens in bur Syrian skies; + Dark passion glittered in his eyes, + And Empire sparkled in his form! + + My soul! thou art the dusky earth, + On which his sunlight fell; + The dusky earth, that dim no longer, + Now breathes with light, now beams with love! + + He rose in beauty, like the morn + That brightens in our Syrian skies; + Dark passion glittered in his eyes, + And Empire sparkled in his form! + +[Illustration: page174] + +‘Once more, once more! Ah! sing that strain once more!’ + +The princess started and looked round. Before her stood Alroy. She rose, +she would have retired; but, advancing, the conqueror stole her hand. + +‘Fair princess,’ said Alroy, ‘let it not be said that my presence +banished at once beauty and music.’ + +‘Sire, I doubt not that Honain awaits you. Let me summon him.’ + +‘Lady, it is not with Honain that I would speak.’ + +He seated himself by her side. His countenance was pale, his heart +trembled. + +‘This garden,’ at length he observed in a low voice, ‘this garden, a +brief, brief space has glided away since first I wandered within its +beauteous limits, and yet those days seem like the distant memory of +another life.’ + +‘It is another life,’ said the princess. ‘Ourselves, the world, all +forms and usages, all feelings and all habits, verily they have changed, +as if we had breathed within another sphere.’ + +‘‘Tis a great change.’ + +‘Since first you visited my bright kiosk. Pretty bauble! I pray it may +be spared.’ + +‘It is sacred, like yourself.’ + +‘You are a courteous conqueror.’ + +‘I am no conqueror, fair Schirene, but a slave more lowly than when I +first bowed humbly in your presence.’ + +‘And bore away a token not forgotten. Your rosary is here.’ + +‘Let me claim it. It has been my consolation in much peril, beauteous +lady. On the eve of battle I wound it round my heart.’ + +She held forth the rosary, and turned away her head. Her hand remained +in his; he pressed it to his lips. His right arm retained her hand; he +wound the other round her waist, as he fell upon his knee. + +‘O beautiful! O more than beautiful! for thou to me art like a dream +unbroken,’ exclaimed the young leader of Israel, ‘let me, let me breathe +my adoration. I offer thee not empire: I offer thee not wealth; I offer +thee not all the boundless gratification of magnificent fancy,--these +may be thine, but all these thou hast proved; but, if the passionate +affections of a spirit which never has yielded to the power of woman or +the might of man, if the deep devotion of the soul of Alroy, be deemed +an offering meet for the shrine of thy surpassing loveliness, I worship +thee, Schirene. I worship thee, I worship thee! + +‘Since I first gazed upon thee, since thy beauty first rose upon my +presence like a star bright with my destiny, in the still sanctuary +of my secret love, thy idol has ever rested. Then, then, I was a thing +whose very touch thy creed might count a contumely. I have avenged the +insults of long centuries in the best blood of Asia; I have returned, +in glory and in pride, to claim my ancient sceptre; but sweeter far than +vengeance, sweeter far than the quick gathering of my sacred tribes, the +rush of triumph and the blaze of empire, is this brief moment of adoring +love, wherein I pour the passion of my life! + +‘O my soul, my life, my very being! thou art silent, but thy silence is +sweeter than others’ speech. Yield, yield thee, dear Schirene, yield to +thy suppliant! Thy faith, thy father’s faith, thy native customs, these, +these shall be respected, beauteous lady! Pharaoh’s daughter yielded her +dusky beauty to my great ancestor. Thy face is like the bright inspiring +day! Let it not be said that the daughter of the Nile shared Israel’s +crown, the daughter of the Tigris spurned our sceptre. I am not Solomon, +but I am one that, were Schirene the partner of my throne, would +make his glowing annals read like a wearisome and misty tale to our +surpassing lustre!’ + +He ceased, the princess turned her hitherto hidden countenance, and +bowed it on his heart. ‘O Alroy!’ she exclaimed, ‘I have no creed, no +country, no life, but thee!’ + +‘The king is late to-day.’ + +‘Is it true, Asriel, there is an express from Hamadan?’ + +‘Of no moment, Ithamar. I have private letters from Abner. All is +quiet.’ + +‘‘Tis much past the hour. When do you depart, Scherirah?’ + +‘The troops are ready. I wait orders. This morning’s council will +perchance decide.’ + +‘This morning’s council is devoted to the settlement of the civil +affairs of the capital,’ remarked Jabaster. + +‘Indeed!’ said Asriel. ‘Is your report prepared, Jabaster?’ + +‘‘Tis here,’ replied the high priest. ‘The Hebrew legislator requires +but little musing to shape his order. He has a model which time cannot +destroy, nor thought improve.’ + +Ithamar and Asriel exchanged significant glances. Scherirah looked +solemn. There was a pause, which was broken by Asriel. + +‘‘Tis a noble city, this Bagdad. I have not yet visited your quarters, +Jabaster. You are well placed.’ + +‘As it may be. I hope we shall not tarry here long. The great point is +still not achieved.’ + +‘How far is it to the holy city?’ enquired Scherirah. + +‘A month’s march,’ replied Jabaster. + +‘And when you get there?’ enquired Ithamar. + +‘You may fight with the Franks,’ replied Asriel. + +‘Jabaster, how large is Jerusalem?’ enquired Ithamar. ‘Is it true, as +I have sometimes heard, that it is not bigger than the serail here, +gardens and all?’ + +‘Its glory hath departed,’ replied the high priest; ‘the bricks have +fallen, but we will rebuild with marble; and Zion, that is now without +the Christian walls, shall yet sparkle, as in the olden time, with +palaces and pavilions.’ + +A flourish of trumpets, the portals flew open, and Alroy entered, +leaning on the arm of the Envoy of Bagdad. + +‘Valiant leaders,’ said Alroy to the astonished chieftains, ‘in this +noble stranger, you see one like yourselves entrusted with my unbounded +confidence. Jabaster, behold thy brother!’ + +‘Honain! art _thou_ Honain?’ exclaimed the pontiff starting from his +seat. ‘I have a thousand messengers after thee.’ With a countenance +alternately pallid with surprise and burning with affection, Jabaster +embraced his brother, and, overpowered with emotion, hid his face on his +shoulder. + +‘Sire,’ at length exclaimed the high priest, in a low and tremulous +voice, ‘I must pray your pardon that for an instant in this character +I have indulged in any other thoughts than those that may concern your +welfare. Tis past: and you, who know all, will forgive me.’ + +‘All that respects Jabaster must concern my welfare. He is the pillar of +my empire;’ and holding forth his hand, Alroy placed the high priest on +his right. ‘Scherirah, you depart this eve.’ + +The rough captain bowed in silence. + +‘What is this?’ continued Alroy, as Jabaster offered him a scroll. ‘Ah! +your report. “Order of the Tribes,” “Service of the Lévites,” “Princes +of the People,” “Elders of Israel!” The day may come when this may +be effected. At present, Jabaster, we must be moderate, and content +ourselves with arrangements which may ensure that order shall be +maintained, property respected, and justice administered. Is it true +that a gang has rifled a mosque?’ + +‘Sire! of that I would speak. They are no plunderers, but men, perhaps +too zealous, who have read and who have remembered that “Ye shall +utterly destroy all the places wherein the nations which ye shall +possess, served their gods upon the high mountains, and upon the +hill, and under every green tree. And ye shall overthrow their altars, +and----“’ + +‘Jabaster, is this a synagogue? Come I to a council of valiant statesmen +or dreaming Rabbis? For a thousand years we have been quoting the laws +we dared not practise. Is it with such aid that we captured Nishapur and +crossed the Tigris? Valiant, wise Jabaster, thou art worthy of better +things, and capable of all. I entreat thee, urge such matters for the +last time. Are these fellows in custody?’ + +‘They were in custody. I have freed them.’ + +‘Freed them! Hang them! Hang them in the most public grove. Is this the +way to make the Moslem a duteous subject? Jabaster! Israel honours +thee; and I, its chief, know that one more true, more valiant, or more +learned, crowds not around our standard; but I see, the caverns of the +Caucasus are not a school for empire.’ + +‘Sire, I had humbly deemed the school for empire was the law of Moses.’ + +‘Ay! adapted to these times.’ + +‘Can aught divine be changed?’ + +‘Am I as tall as Adam? If man, the crown, the rose of all this fair +creation, the most divine of all divine inventions, if Time have altered +even this choicest of all godlike works, why shall it spare a law made +but to rule his conduct? Good Jabaster, we must establish the throne of +Israel, that is my mission, and for the means, no matter how, or where. +Asriel, what news of Medad?’ + +‘All is quiet between the Tigris and Euphrates. It would be better +to recall his division, which has been much harassed. I thought of +relieving him by Abidan.’ + +‘I think so, too. We may as well keep Abidan out of the city. If the +truth were known, I’ll wager some of his company plundered the mosque. +We must issue a proclamation on that subject. My good Jabaster, we’ll +talk over these matters alone. At present I will leave you with your +brother. Scherirah, sup with me to-night; before you quit Asriel, come +with me to my cabinet.’ + +‘I must see the king!’ + +‘Holy priest, his highness has retired. It is impossible.’ + +‘I must see the king. Worthy Pharez, I take all peril on myself.’ + +‘Indeed his highness’ orders are imperative. You cannot see him.’ + +‘Knowest thou who I am?’ + +‘One whom all pious Hebrews reverence.’ + +‘I say I must see the king.’ + +‘Indeed, indeed, holy Jabaster, it cannot be.’ + +‘Shall Israel perish for a menial’s place? Go to; I _will_ see him.’ + +‘Nay! if you _will_, I’ll struggle for my duty.’ + +‘Touch not the Lord’s anointed. Dog, you shall suffer for this!’ + +So saying, Jabaster threw aside Pharez, and, with the attendant clinging +to his robes, rushed into the royal chamber. + +‘What is all this?’ exclaimed Alroy, starting from the divan. ‘Jabaster! +Pharez, withdraw! How now, is Bagdad in insurrection?’ + +‘Worse, much worse, Israel soon will be.’ + +‘Ay!’ + +‘My fatal brother has told me all, nor would I sleep, until I lifted up +my voice to save thee.’ + +‘Am I in danger?’ + +‘In the wilderness, when the broad desert quivered beneath thy trembling +feet, and the dark heavens poured down their burning torrents, thou wert +less so. In that hour of death, One guarded thee, who never forgets His +fond and faithful offspring, and now, when He has brought thee out of +the house of bondage; now, when thy fortunes, like a noble cedar, swell +in the air and shadow all the land; thou, the very leader of His people, +His chosen one, for whom He hath worked such marvels, thy heart is +turned from thy fathers’ God, and hankers after strange abominations.’ + +Through the broad arch that led into the gardens of the serail, the +moonlight fell upon the tall figure and the upraised arm of the priest; +Alroy stood with folded arms at some distance, watching Jabaster as he +spoke, with a calm but searching glance. Suddenly he advanced with a +quick step, and, placing his hand upon Jabaster’s arm, said, in a low, +enquiring tone, ‘You are speaking of this marriage?’ + +‘Of that which ruined Solomon.’ + +‘Listen to me, Jabaster,’ said Alroy, interrupting him, in a calm but +peremptory tone, ‘I cannot forget that I am speaking to my master, as +well as to my friend. The Lord, who knoweth all things, hath deemed me +worthy of His mission. My fitness for this high and holy office was not +admitted without proof. A lineage, which none else could offer, mystic +studies shared by few, a mind that dared encounter all things, and a +frame that could endure most, these were my claims. But no more of this. +I have passed the great ordeal; the Lord of Hosts hath found me not +unworthy of His charge; I have established His ancient people; His +altars blaze with sacrifices; His priests are honoured, bear witness +thou, Jabaster, His omnipotent unity is declared. What wouldst thou +more?’ + +‘All!’ + +‘Then Moses knew you well. It is a stiff-necked people.’ + +‘Sire, bear with me. If I speak in heat, I speak in zeal. You ask me +what I wish: my answer is, a national existence, which we have not. You +ask me what I wish: my answer is, the Land of Promise. You ask me what I +wish: my answer is, Jerusalem. You ask me what I wish: my answer is, the +Temple, all we have forfeited, all we have yearned after, all for +which we have fought, our beauteous country, our holy creed, our simple +manners, and our ancient customs.’ + +‘Manners change with time and circumstances; customs may be observed +everywhere. The ephod on thy breast proves our faith; and, for a +country, is the Tigris less than Siloah, or the Euphrates inferior to +the Jordan?’ + +‘Alas! alas! there was a glorious prime when Israel stood aloof from +other nations, a fair and holy thing that God had hallowed. We were +then a chosen family, a most peculiar people, set apart for God’s entire +enjoyment. All about us was solemn, deep, and holy. We shunned the +stranger as an unclean thing that must defile our solitary sanctity, +and, keeping to ourselves and to our God, our lives flowed on in one +great solemn tide of deep religion, making the meanest of our multitude +feel greater than the kings of other lands. It was a glorious time: I +thought it had returned; but I awake from this, as other dreams.’ + +‘We must leave off dreaming, good Jabaster, we must act. Were I, by any +chance, to fall into one of those reveries, with which I have often lost +the golden hours at Hamadan, or in our old cave, I should hear, some +fine morning, his Sultanship of Roum rattling at my gates.’ Alroy smiled +as he spoke; he would willingly have introduced a lighter tone into the +dialogue, but the solemn countenance of the priest was not sympathetic +with his levity. + +‘My heart is full, and yet I cannot speak: the memory of the past +overpowers my thought. I had vainly deemed that my voice, inspired by +the soul of truth, might yet preserve him; and now I stand here in his +presence, silent and trembling, like a guilty thing. O, my prince! my +pupil!’ said the priest, advancing, falling on his knee, and seizing the +robe of Alroy, ‘by thy sacred lineage; by the sweet memory of thy ardent +youth, and our united studies, by all thy zealous thoughts, and solemn +musings, and glorious aspirations after fame; by all thy sufferings, and +by all thy triumphs, and chiefly by the name of that great God, who +hath elected thee his favoured child; by all the marvels of thy mighty +mission, I do adjure thee! Arise, Alroy, arise and rouse thyself. The +lure that snared thy fathers may trap thee, this Delilah may shear thy +mystic locks. Spirits like thee act not by halves. Once fall out from +the straight course before thee, and, though thou deemest ‘tis but to +saunter ‘mid the summer trees, soon thou wilt find thyself in the dark +depths of some infernal forest, where none may rescue thee!’ + +‘What if I do inherit the eager blood of my great ancestor, at least +I hold his sceptre. Shall aught of earthly power prevail against the +supernatural sway of Heaven and Hades?’ + +‘Sire, sire, the legend that came from Sinai is full of high +instruction. But shape thy conduct by its oracles, and all were well. It +says our people can be established only by him who rules them with the +rod of Solomon. Sire, when the Lord offered his pleasure to that mighty +king, thou knowest his deep discretion. Riches and length of days, +empire and vengeance, these were not the choice of one to whom all +accidents were proffered. The legend bears an inward spirit, as well +as an outward meaning. The capture of the prize was a wise test of thy +imperial fitness. Thou hast his sceptre, but, without his wisdom, ‘tis +but a staff of cedar.’ + +‘Hah! Art thou there? I am glad to see Jabaster politic. Hear me, my +friend. What my feelings be unto this royal lady, but little matters. +Let them pass, and let us view this question by the light wherein you +have placed it, the flame of policy and not of passion. I am no traitor +to the God of Israel, in whose name I have conquered, and in whose name +I shall rule; but thou art a learned doctor, thou canst inform us. +I have heard no mandate to yield my glorious empire for my meanest +province. I am Lord of Asia, so would I have my long posterity. Our +people are but a remnant, a feeble fraction of the teeming millions that +own my sway. What I hold I can defend; but my children may not inherit +the spirit of their sire. The Moslemin will recognise their rule with +readier hearts, when they remember that a daughter of their caliphs gave +them life. You see I too am politic, my good Jabaster!’ + +‘The policy of the son of Kareah[67], ‘twas fatal. He preferred Egypt +to Judah, and he suffered. Sire, the Lord hath blessed Judah: it is +His land. He would have it filled by His peculiar people, so that His +worship might ever flourish. For this He has, by many curious rites and +customs, marked us out from all other nations, so that we cannot, at the +same time, mingle with them and yet be true to Him. We must exist alone. +To preserve that loneliness is the great end and essence of our law. +What have we to do with Bagdad, or its people, where every instant we +must witness some violation of our statutes? Can we pray with them? +Can we eat with them? Alike in the highest duties, and the lowest +occupations of existence, we cannot mingle. From the altar of our God to +our domestic boards, we are alike separated from them. Sire, you may be +King of Bagdad, but you cannot, at the same time, be a Jew.’ + +‘I am what I am. I worship the Lord of Hosts. Perhaps, in His mercy, He +will accept the days of Nishapur and the Tigris as a compensation for +some slight relaxation in the ritual of the baker and the bath.’ + +‘And mark my words: it was by the ritual of the baker and the bath that +Alroy rose, and without it he will fall. The genius of the people, which +he shared, raised him; and that genius has been formed by the law of +Moses. Based on that law, he might indeed have handed down an empire +to his long posterity; and now, though the tree of his fortunes seems +springing up by the water-side, fed by a thousand springs, and its +branches covered with dew, there is a gangrene in the sap, and to-morrow +he may shrink like a shrivelled gourd. Alas! alas! for Israel! We +have long fed on mallows; but to lose the vintage in the very day of +fruition, ‘tis very bitter. Ah! when I raised thy exhausted form in +the cavern of Genthesma, and the star of David beamed brightly in the +glowing heavens upon thy high fulfilment, who could have dreamed of a +night like this? Farewell, sire.’ + +‘Stop, Jabaster! earliest, dearest friend, prythee, prythee stop!’ + +The priest slowly turned, the prince hesitated. + +‘Part not in anger, good Jabaster.’ + +‘In sorrow, sire, only in sorrow; but deep and terrible.’ + +‘Israel is Lord of Asia, my Jabaster. Why should we fear?’ + +‘Solomon built Tadmor in the wilderness, and his fleet brought gold from +Ophir; and yet Alroy was born a slave.’ + +‘But did not die one. The sultans of the world have fallen before me. +I have no fear. Nay, do not go. At least you will give some credence to +the stars, my learned Cabalist. See, my planet shines as brightly as +my fortunes.’ Alroy withdrew the curtain, and with Jabaster stepped out +upon the terrace. A beautiful star glittered on high. As they gazed, its +colour changed, and a blood-red meteor burst from its circle, and fell +into space. The conqueror and the priest looked at each other at the +same time. Their countenances were pale, enquiring, and agitated. + +‘Sire,’ said Jabaster, ‘march to Judah.’ + +‘It portends war,’ replied Alroy, endeavouring to recover himself. +‘Perchance some troubles in Persia.’ + +‘Troubles at home, no other. The danger is nigh. Look to thyself.’ + +A wild scream was heard in the gardens. It sounded thrice. + +‘What is this?’ exclaimed Alroy, really agitated. ‘Rouse the guard, +Jabaster, search the gardens.’ + +‘‘Tis useless and may do harm. It was a spirit that shrieked.’ + +‘What said it?’ + +‘_Mené, Mené, Tekel, Upharsin!_’ + +‘The old story, the priest against the king,’ said Honain to Alroy, +when at his morrow’s interview, he had listened to the events of the +preceding night. ‘My pious brother wishes to lead you back to the +Theocracy, and is fearful that, if he prays at Bagdad instead of Zion, +he may chance to become only the head of an inferior sect, instead of +revelling in the universal tithes of a whole nation. As for the meteor, +Scherirah must have crossed the river about the same time, and the +Sultan of Roum may explain the bloody portent. For the shriek, as I +really have no acquaintance with spirits, I must leave the miraculous +communication to the favoured ears and initiated intelligences of your +highness and my brother. It seems that it differed from “the Daughter +of the Voice” in more respects than one, since it was not only extremely +noisy, but, as it would appear, quite unintelligible except to the +individual who had an interest in the interpretation, an ingenious +one, I confess. When I enter upon my functions as your highness’s +chamberlain, I will at least guarantee that your slumbers shall not be +disturbed either by spirits or more unwelcome visitors.’ + +‘Enter upon them at once, good Honain. How fares my Persian rose to-day, +my sweet Schirene?’ + +‘Feeding on your image in your absence. She spares no word to me, I do +assure your highness.’ + +‘Nay, nay, we know you are a general favourite with the sex, Honain. +I’faith I’m jealous.’ + +‘I would your highness had cause,’ said Honain, demurely. + +The approaching marriage between the King of the Hebrews and the +Princess of Bagdad was published throughout Asia. Preparations were made +on the plain of the Tigris for the great rejoicing. Whole forests +were felled to provide materials for the buildings and fuel for the +banqueting. All the governors of provinces and cities, all the chief +officers and nobility of both nations, were specially invited, and daily +arrived in state at Bagdad. Among them the Viceroy of the Medes and +Persians, and his recent bride, the Princess Miriam, were conspicuous, +followed by a train of nearly ten thousand persons. + +A throne, ascended by one hundred steps covered with crimson cloth, and +crowned by a golden canopy, was raised in the middle of the plain; on +each side was a throne less elevated, but equally gorgeous. In the front +of these thrones an immense circus was described, formed by one +hundred chartaks or amphitheatres, ample room for the admittance of the +multitude being left between the buildings. These chartaks were covered +with bright brocades and showy carpets; on each was hoisted a brilliant +banner. In some of them were bands of choice musicians, in others +companies of jugglers, buffoons, and storiers. Five chartaks on each +side of the thrones were allotted for the convenience of the court; +the rest were filled by the different trades of the city. In one the +fruiterers had formed a beautiful garden, glowing with pomegranates and +gourds and watermelons, oranges, almonds, and pistachio-nuts; in another +the butchers exhibited their meats carved in fanciful shapes, and the +skins of animals formed into ludicrous figures. Here assembled the +furriers, all dressed in masquerade, like leopards, lions, tigers and +foxes; and in another booth mustered the upholsterers, proud of a camel +made of wood, and reeds, and cord, and painted linen, a camel which +walked about as if alive, though ever and anon a curtain drawn aside +discovered to the marvelling multitude the workman within, performing in +his own piece. Further on might be perceived the cotton manufacturers, +whose chartak was full of birds of all shapes and plumage, formed +nevertheless of their curious plant; and, in the centre rose a lofty +minaret, constructed of the same material, with the help of reeds, +although every one imagined it to be built with bricks and mortar. It +was covered with embroidered work, and on the top was placed a stork, so +cunningly devised that the children pelted it with pistachio-nuts. The +saddlers showed their skill in two litters, open at top, each carried on +a dromedary, and in each a beautiful woman, who diverted the spectators +with light balls of gilt leather, throwing them up both with their +hands and feet. Nor were the mat-makers backward in the proof of their +dexterity, since, instead of a common banner, they exhibited a large +standard of reeds worked with two lines of writing in Kufic, proclaiming +the happy names of Alroy and Schirene. + +But indeed in every chartak might be seen some wondrous specimens of the +wealth of Bagdad, and of the ingenuity of its unrivalled artisans. + +Around this mighty circus, on every side for the space of many miles, +the plain was studded with innumerable pavilions. At measured intervals +were tables furnished with every species of provision, and attended by +appointed servants; flagons of wine and jars of sherbets, mingled +with infinite baskets of delicious fruits and trays of refreshing +confectionery. Although open to all comers, so great and rapid was the +supply, that these banqueting tables seemed ever laden; and that the +joys of the people might be complete, they were allowed to pursue +whatever pleasures they thought fit without any restraint, by +proclamation, in these terms. + +‘_This is the time of feasting, pleasure, and rejoicing. Let no person +reprimand or complain of another: let not the rich insult the poor, or +the strong the weak: let no one ask another, “why have you done this +_?”’ + +Millions of people were collected in this Paradise. They rejoiced, they +feasted, they frolicked, they danced, they sang. They listened to the +tales of the Arabian story-teller, at once enchanted and enchanting, +or melted to the strain of the Persian poet as he painted the moon-lit +forehead of his heroine and the wasting and shadowy form of his +love-sick hero; they beheld with amazement the feats of the juggler of +the Ganges, or giggled at the practised wit and the practical buffoonery +of the Syrian mime. And the most delighted could still spare a +fascinating glance to the inviting gestures and the voluptuous grace of +the dancing girls of Egypt.[68] Everywhere reigned melody and merriment, +rarity and beauty. For once mankind forgot their cares, and delivered +themselves up to infinite enjoyment. + +‘I grow courteous,’ said Kisloch the Kourd, assisting a party into one +of the shows. + +‘And I humane,’ said Calidas the Indian. ‘Fellow, how dare you violate +the proclamation, by thrashing that child?’ He turned to one of the +stewards of the table, who was belabouring the unfortunate driver of a +camel which had stumbled and in its fall had shivered its burden, two +panniers of porcelain. + +‘Mind your own business, fellow,’ replied the steward, ‘and be thankful +that for once in your life you can dine.’ + +‘Is this the way to speak to an officer?’ said Calidas the Indian; ‘I +have half a mind to cut your tongue out.’ + +‘Never mind, little fellow,’ said the Guebre, ‘here is a dirhem for you. +Run away and be merry.’ + +‘A miracle!’ grinned the Negro; ‘he giveth alms.’ + +‘And you are witty,’ rejoined the Guebre. ‘‘Tis a wondrous day.’ + +‘What shall we do?’ said Kisloch. + +‘Let us dine,’ proposed the Negro. + +‘Ay! under this plane-tree,’ said Calidas. ‘‘Tis pleasant to be alone. I +hate everybody but ourselves.’ + +‘Here stop, you rascal,’ said the Guebre. ‘What’s your name?’ + +‘I am a Hadgee,’ said our old friend Abdallah, the servant of the +charitable merchant Ali, and who was this day one of the officiating +stewards. + +‘Are you a Jew, you scoundrel?’ said the Guebre, ‘that is the only thing +worth being. Bring some wine, you accursed Giaour!’ + +‘Instantly,’ said Kisloch, ‘and a pilau.’ ‘And a gazelle stuffed with +almonds,’ said Calidas. ‘And some sugar-plums,’ said the Negro. ‘Quick, +you infernal Gentile, or I’ll send this javelin in your back,’ hallooed +the Guebre. + +The servile Abdallah hastened away, and soon bustled back, bearing two +flagons of wine, and followed by four servants, each with a tray covered +with dainties. + +‘Where are you going, you accursed scoundrels?’ grumbled Kisloch; ‘wait +upon the true believers.’ ‘We shall be more free alone,’ whispered +Calidas. ‘Away, then, dogs,’ growled Kisloch. Abdallah and his +attendants hurried off, but were soon summoned back. + +‘Why did you not bring Schiraz wine?’ asked Calidas, with an eye of +fire. + +‘The pilau is overdone,’ thundered Kisloch. ‘You have brought a lamb +stuffed with pistachio-nuts, instead of a gazelle with almonds,’ said +the Guebre. + +‘Not half sugar-plums enough,’ said the Negro. ‘Everything is wrong,’ +said Kisloch. ‘Go, and get us a kabob.’ + +In time, however, even this unmanageable crew were satisfied; and, +seated under their plane-tree, and stuffing themselves with all the +dainties of the East, they became more amiable as their appetites +decreased. ‘A bumper, Calidas, and a song,’ said Kisloch. ‘‘Tis rare +stuff,’ said the Guebre; ‘come, Cally, it should inspire you.’ + +‘Here goes, then; mind the chorus.’ + + Drink, drink, deeply drink, + Never feel, and never think; + What’s love? what’s fame? a sigh, a smile. + Friendship? but a hollow wile. + If you’ve any thought or woe, + Drown them in the goblet’s flow. + Yes! dash them in this brimming cup; + Dash them in, and drink them up. + Drink, drink, deeply drink, + Never feel, and never think. + +‘Hark, the trumpets! The King and Queen! ‘The procession is coming. +Let’s away.’ + +‘Again! they must be near. Hurry, hurry, for good places.’ + +‘Break all the cups and dishes. Come along!’ + +The multitude from all quarters hurried to the great circus, amid the +clash of ten thousand cymbals and the blast of innumerable trumpets. +In the distance, issuing from the gates of Bagdad, might be discerned a +brilliant crowd, the advance company of the bridal procession. + +There came five hundred maidens crowned with flowers, and beauteous as +the buds that girt their hair. Their flowing robes were whiter than the +swan, and each within her hand a palm-branch held. Followed these a +band of bright musicians, clothed in golden robes, and sounding silver +trumpets. + +Then five hundred youths, brilliant as stars, clad in jackets of +white-fox skin, and alternately bearing baskets of fruit or flowers. + +Followed these a band of bright musicians, clothed in silver robes, and +sounding golden trumpets. + +Six choice steeds, sumptuously caparisoned, each led by an Arab +groom.[69] + +The household of Medad, in robes of crimson, lined with sable. + +The standard of Medad. + +Medad, on a coal-black Arab, followed by three hundred officers of his +division, all mounted on steeds of pure race. + +Slaves, bearing the bridal present of Medad; six Damascus sabres of +unrivalled temper.[70] + +Twelve choice steeds, sumptuously caparisoned, each led by an Anatolian +groom. + +The household of Ithamar, in robes of violet, lined with ermine. + +The standard of Ithamar. + +Ithamar, on a snow-white Anatolian charger, followed by six hundred +officers of his division, all mounted on steeds of pure race. + +Slaves bearing the marriage present of Ithamar; a golden vase of rubies +borne on a violet throne. + +One hundred Negroes, their noses bored, and hung with rings of +brilliants, playing upon wind instruments and kettle-drums. + +The standard of the City of Bagdad. + +The deputation from the citizens of Bagdad. + +Two hundred mules, with caparisons of satin, embroidered with gold, +and adorned with small golden bells. These bore the sumptuous wardrobe, +presented by the city to their princess. Each mule was attended by a +girl, dressed like a Péri, with starry wings, and a man, masked as a +hideous Dive. + +The standard of Egypt. + +The deputation from the Hebrews of Egypt, mounted on dromedaries, with +silver furniture. + +Fifty slaves, bearing their present to the princess, with golden cords, +a mighty bath of jasper, beautifully carved, the sarcophagus of some +ancient temple, and purchased for an immense sum. + +The standard of Syria. + +The deputation from the Hebrews of the Holy Land, headed by Rabbi Zimri +himself, each carrying in his hand his offering to the nuptial pair, a +precious vase, containing earth from the Mount of Zion. + +The standard of Hamadan. + +The deputation from the citizens of Hamadan, headed by the venerable +Bostenay himself, whose sumptuous charger was led by Caleb. + +The present of the city of Hamadan to David Al-roy, offered at his own +suggestion; the cup in which the Prince of the Captivity carried his +tribute, now borne full of sand. + +Fifty choice steeds, sumptuously caparisoned, each led by a Median or +Persian groom. + +The household of Abner and Miriam, in number twelve hundred, clad in +chain armour of ivory and gold. + +The standard of the Medes and Persians. + +Two white elephants, with golden litters, bearing the Viceroy and his +Princess. + +The offering of Abner to Alroy; twelve elephants of state, with +furniture embroidered with jewels, each tended by an Indian clad in +chain armour of ivory and gold. + +The offering of Miriam to Schirene; fifty plants of roses from +Rocnabad;[71] a white shawl of Cachemire fifty feet in length, which +folded into the handle of a fan; fifty screens, each made of a feather +of the roc;[72] and fifty vases of crystal full of exquisite perfumes, +and each sealed with a talisman of precious stones. + +After these followed the eunuch guard. + +Then came the band of the serail, consisting of three hundred dwarfs, +hideous indeed to behold, but the most complete musicians in the world. + +The steeds of Solomon, in number one hundred, each with a natural star +upon its front, uncaparisoned, and led only by a bridle of diamonds. + +The household of Alroy and Schirene. Foremost, the Lord Honain riding +upon a chestnut charger, shod with silver; the dress of the rider, pink +with silver stars. From his rosy turban depended a tremulous aigrette of +brilliants,73 blazing with a thousand shifting tints. + +Two hundred pages followed him; and then servants of both sexes, +gorgeously habited, amounting to nearly two thousand, carrying rich +vases, magnificent caskets, and costly robes. The treasurer and two +hundred of his underlings came next, showering golden dirhems on all +sides. + +The sceptre of Solomon borne by Asriel himself. + +A magnificent and lofty car, formed of blue enamel with golden wheels, +and axletrees of turquoises and brilliants, and drawn by twelve +snow-white and sacred horses, four abreast; in the car Alroy and +Schirene. + +Five thousand of the Sacred Guard closed the procession. + +Amid the exclamations of the people, this gorgeous procession crossed +the plain, and moved around the mighty circus. The conqueror and his +bride ascended their throne; its steps were covered by the youths and +maidens. On the throne upon their right sat the venerable Bostenay; on +the left, the gallant Viceroy and his Princess. The chartaks on each +side were crowded with the court. + +The deputations made their offerings, the chiefs and captains paid their +homage, the trades of the city moved before the throne in order, and +exhibited their various ingenuity. Thrice was the proclamation made, +amid the sound of trumpets, and then began the games. + +A thousand horsemen dashed into the arena and threw the jerreed. They +galloped at full speed; they arrested their fiery charges in mid course, +and flung their long javelins at the minute but sparkling target, the +imitative form of a rare and brilliant bird. The conquerors received +their prizes from the hand of the princess herself, bright shawls, and +jewelled daggers, and rosaries of gems. Sometimes the trumpets announced +a prize from the vice-queen, sometimes from the venerable Bostenay, +sometimes from the victorious generals, or the loyal deputations, +sometimes from the united trades, sometimes from the City of Bagdad, +sometimes from the City of Hamadan. The hours flew away in gorgeous and +ceaseless variety. + +‘I would we were alone, my own Schirene,’ said Alroy to his bride. + +‘I would so too; and yet I love to see all Asia prostrate at the feet of +Alroy.’ + +‘Will the sun never set? Give me thy hand to play with.’ + +‘Hush! See, Miriam smiles.’ + +‘Lovest thou my sister, my own Schirene?’ + +‘None dearer but thyself.’ + +‘Talk not of my sister, but ourselves. Thinkest thou the sun is nearer +setting, love?’ + +‘I cannot see; thine eyes they dazzle me, they are so brilliant, sweet!’ + +‘Oh, my soul! I could pour out my passion on thy breast.’ + +‘Thou art very serious.’ + +‘Love is ever so.’ + +‘Nay, sweet! It makes me wild and fanciful. Now I could do such things, +but what I know not. I would we had wings, and then we would fly away.’ + +‘See, I must salute this victor in the games. Must I unloose thy hand! +Dear hand, farewell! Think of me while I speak, my precious life. ‘Tis +done. Give back thy hand, or else methinks I shall die. What’s this?’ + +A horseman, in no holiday dress, but covered with dust, rushed into the +circus, bearing in his hand a tall lance, on which was fixed a scroll. +The marshals of the games endeavoured to prevent his advance, but he +would not be stayed. His message was to the king alone. A rumour of news +from the army circulated throughout the crowd. And news from the army it +was. Another victory! Scherirah had defeated the Sultan of Roum, who was +now a suppliant for peace and alliance. Sooth to say, the intelligence +had arrived at dawn of day, but the courtly Honain had contrived that it +should be communicated at a later and more effective moment. + +There scarcely needed this additional excitement to this glorious day. +But the people cheered, the golden dirhems were scattered with renewed +profusion, and the intelligence was received by all parties as a solemn +ratification by Jehovah, or by Allah, of the morning ceremony. + +The sun set, the court rose, and returned in the same pomp to the +serail. The twilight died away, a beacon fired on a distant eminence +announced the entrance of Alroy and Schirene into the nuptial chamber, +and suddenly, as by magic, the mighty city, every mosque, and minaret, +and tower, and terrace, and the universal plain, and the numberless +pavilions, and the immense circus, and the vast and winding river, +blazed with light. From every spot a lamp, a torch, a lantern, tinted +with every hue, burst forth; enormous cressets of silver radiancy beamed +on the top of each chartak, and huge bonfires of ruddy flame started up +along the whole horizon. + +For seven days and seven nights this unparalleled scene of rejoicing, +though ever various, never ceased. Long, long was remembered the bridal +feast of the Hebrew prince and the caliph’s daughter; long, long did the +peasantry on the plains of Tigris sit down by the side of that starry +river, and tell the wondrous tale to their marvelling posterity. + +Now what a glorious man was David Alroy, lord of the mightiest empire +in the world, and wedded to the most beautiful princess, surrounded by +a prosperous and obedient people, guarded by invincible armies, one on +whom Earth showered all its fortune, and Heaven all its favour; and all +by the power of his own genius! + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + _The Death of Jabaster_ + +‘TWAS midnight, and the storm still raged; ‘mid the roar of the thunder +and the shrieks of the wind, the floods of forky lightning each instant +revealed the broad and billowy breast of the troubled Tigris. Jabaster +stood gazing upon the wild scene from the gallery of his palace. His +countenance was solemn, but disquieted. + +‘I would that he were here!’ exclaimed the high priest. ‘Yet why should +I desire his presence, who heralds only gloom? Yet in his absence am I +gay? I am nothing. This Bagdad weighs upon me like a cloak of lead: my +spirit is dull and broken.’ + +‘They say Alroy gives a grand banquet in the serail to-night, and toasts +his harlot ‘mid the thunderbolts. Is there no hand to write upon the +wall? He is found wanting, he is weighed, and is indeed found wanting. +The parting of his kingdom soon will come, and then, I could weep, oh! +I could weep, and down these stern and seldom yielding cheeks pour the +wild anguish of my desperate woe. So young, so great, so favoured! But +one more step a God, and now a foul Belshazzar! + +‘Was it for this his gentle youth was passed in musing solitude and +mystic studies? Was it for this the holy messenger summoned his most +religious spirit? Was it for this he crossed the fiery desert, and +communed with his fathers in their tombs? Is this the end of all his +victories and all his vast achievements? To banquet with a wanton! + +‘A year ago, this very night, it was the eve of battle, I stood within +his tent to wait his final word. He mused awhile, and then he said, +“Good night, Jabaster!” I believed myself the nearest to his heart, as +he has ever been nearest to mine, but that’s all over. He never says, +“Good night, Jabaster,” now. Why, what’s all this? Methinks I am a +child. + +‘The Lord’s anointed is a prisoner now in the light grating of a bright +kiosk, and never gazes on the world he conquered. Egypt and Syria, even +farthest Ind, send forth their messengers to greet Alroy, the great, the +proud, the invincible. And where is he? In a soft Paradise of girls and +eunuchs, crowned with flowers, listening to melting lays, and the wild +trilling of the amorous lute. He spares no hours to council; all is left +to his prime favourites, of whom the leader is that juggling fiend I +sometime called my brother. + +‘Why rest I here? Whither should I fly? Methinks my presence is still a +link to decency. Should I tear off the ephod, I scarcely fancy ‘twould +blaze upon another’s breast. He goes not to the sacrifice; they say he +keeps no fast, observes no ritual, and that their festive fantasies will +not be balked, even by the Sabbath. I have not seen him thrice since +the marriage. Honain has told her I did oppose it, and she bears to me +a hatred that only women feel. Our strong passions break into a thousand +purposes: women have one. Their love is dangerous, but their hate is +fatal. + +‘See! a boat bounding on the waters. On such a night, but one would dare +to venture.’ + +Now visible, now in darkness, a single lantern at the prow, Jabaster +watched with some anxiety the slight bark buffeting the waves. A flash +of lightning illumined the whole river, and tipped with a spectral light +even the distant piles of building. The boat and the toiling figure +of the single rower were distinctly perceptible. Now all again was +darkness; the wind suddenly subsided; in a few minutes the plash of the +oars was audible, and the boat apparently stopped beneath the palace. + +There was a knocking at the private portal. + +‘Who knocks?’ enquired Jabaster. + +‘A friend to Israel.’ + +‘Abidan, by his voice. Art thou alone?’ + +‘The prophetess is with me; only she.’ + +‘A moment. I’ll open the gate. Draw the boat within the arch.’ + +Jabaster descended from the gallery, and in a few moments returned with +two visitors: the youthful prophetess Esther, and her companion, a +man short in stature, but with a powerful and well-knit frame. His +countenance was melancholy, and, with harshness in the lower part, not +without a degree of pensive beauty in the broad clear brow and sunken +eyes, unusual in Oriental visages. + +‘A rough night,’ said Jabaster. + +‘To those who fear it,’ replied Abidan. ‘The sun has brought so little +joy to me, I care not for the storm.’ + +‘What news?’ + +‘Woe! woe! woe!’ + +‘Thy usual note, my sister. Will the day never come when we may change +it?’ + +‘Woe! woe! woe! unutterable woe!’ + +‘Abidan, how fares it?’ + +‘Very well.’ + +‘Indeed!’ + +‘As it may turn out.’ + +‘You are brief.’ + +‘Bitter.’ + +‘Have you been to court, that you have learnt to be so wary in your +words, my friend?’ + +‘I know not what may happen. In time we may all become courtiers, though +I fear, Jabaster, we have done too much to be rewarded. I gave him my +blood, and you something more, and now we are at Bagdad. ‘Tis a +fine city. I wish to Heaven the shower of Sodom would rain upon its +terraces.’ + +‘I know thou hast something terrible to tell. I know it by that gloomy +brow of thine, that lowers like the tempest. Speak out, man, I can bear +the worst, for which I am prepared.’ + +‘Take it, then. Alroy has proclaimed himself Caliph. Abner is made +Sultan of Persia; Asriel, Ithamar, Medad, and the chief captains, +Vizirs, Honain their chief. Four Moslem nobles are sworn into the +council. The Princess goes to mosque in state next Friday; ‘tis said thy +pupil doth accompany her.’ + +‘I’ll not believe it! By the God of Sinai, I’ll not believe it! Were +my own eye the accursed witness of the deed, I’d not believe it. Go to +mosque! They play with thee, my good Abidan, they play with thee.’ + +‘As it may be. Tis a rumour, but rumours herald deeds. The rest of my +intelligence is true. I had it from my kinsman, stout Zalmunna. He left +the banquet.’ + +‘Shall I go to him? Methinks one single word, To mosque! only a rumour +and a false one. I’ll never believe it; no, no, no, never, never! Is he +not the Lord’s anointed? The ineffable curse upon this daughter ot the +Moabite! No marvel that it thunders! By heavens, I’ll go and beard him +in his orgies!’ + +‘You know your power better than Abidan. You bearded him before his +marriage, yet----’ + +‘He married. Tis true. Honain, their chief. And I kept his ring! Honain +is my brother. Have I ne’er a dagger to cut the bond of brotherhood?’ + +‘We have all daggers, Jabaster, if we knew but how to use them.’ + +‘‘Tis strange, we met after twenty years of severance. You were not +in the chamber, Abidan. ‘Twas at council. We met after twenty years of +severance. He is my brother. ‘Tis strange, I say: I felt that man shrink +from my embrace.’ + +‘Honain is a philosopher, and believes in sympathy. ‘Twould appear there +was none between you. His system, then, absolves you from all ties.’ + +‘You are sure the rest of the intelligence is true? I’ll not believe the +mosque, the rest is bad enough.’ + +‘Zalmunna left the banquet. Hassan Subah’s brother sat above him.’ + +‘Subah’s brother! ‘Tis all over, then. Is he of the council?’ + +‘Ay, and others.’ + +‘Where now is Israel?’ + +‘She should be in her tents.’ + +‘Woe! woe! unutterable woe!’ exclaimed the prophetess, who, standing +motionless at the back of the chamber, seemed inattentive to their +conversation. + +Jabaster paced the gallery with agitated steps. Suddenly he stopped, +and, walking up to Abidan, seized his arm, and looked him sternly in +the face. ‘I know thy thoughts, Abidan,’ exclaimed the priest; ‘but it +cannot be. I have dismissed, henceforth and for ever I have dismissed +all feeling from my mind; now I have no brother, no friend, no pupil, +and, I fear, no Saviour. Israel is all in all to me. I have no other +life. ‘Tis not compunction, then, that stays my arm. My heart’s as hard +as thine.’ + +‘Why stays it then?’ + +‘Because with him we fall. He is the last of all his sacred line. There +is no other hand to grasp our sceptre.’ + +‘_Our_ sceptre! what sceptre?’ + +‘The sceptre of our kings.’ + +‘Kings!’ + +‘Ay, why dost thou look so dark?’ + +‘How looked the prophet when the stiff-necked populace forsooth must +have a king! Did he smile? Did he shout, and clap his hands, and cry, +God save his Majesty! O, Jabaster! honoured, rare Jabaster! thou second +Samuel of our lightheaded people! there was a time when Israel had no +king except their God. Were we viler then? Did kings conquer Canaan? Who +was Moses, who was Aaron, who was mighty Joshua? Was the sword of Gideon +a kingly sword? Did the locks of Samson shade royal temples? Would a +king have kept his awful covenant like solemn Jephtha? Royal words +are light as air, when, to maintain them, you injure any other than a +subject. + +‘Kings! why, what’s a king? Why should one man break the equal sanctity +of our chosen race? Is their blood purer than our own? We are all the +seed of Abraham. Who was Saul, and who was David? I never heard that +they were a different breed from our fathers. Grant them devout, which +they were not; and brave and wise, which other men were; have their +posterity a patent for all virtues? No, Jabaster! thou ne’er didst err, +but when thou placedst a crown upon this haughty stripling. What he did, +a thousand might have done. ‘Twas thy mind inspired the deed. And now he +is a king; and now Jabaster, the very soul of Israel, who should be our +Judge and leader, Jabaster trembles in disgrace, while our unhallowed +Sanhedrim is filled with Ammonites!’ + +‘Abidan, thou hast touched me to the quick; thou hast stirred up +thoughts that ever and anon, like strong and fatal vapours, have risen +from the dark abyss of thought, and I have quelled them.’ + +‘Let them rise, I say; let them drown the beams of that all-scorching +sun we suffer under, that drinks all vegetation up, and makes us +languish with a dull exhaustion!’ + +‘Joy! joy! unutterable joy!’ + +‘Hark! the prophetess has changed her note; and yet she hears us not. +The spirit of the Lord is truly with her. Come, Jabaster, I see thy +heart is opening to thy people’s sufferings; thy people, my Jabaster, +for art not thou our Judge? At least, thou shalt be.’ + +‘Can we call back the Theocracy? Is’t possible?’ + +‘But say the word, and it is done, Jabaster. Nay, stare not. Dost thou +think there are no true hearts in Israel? Dost thou suppose thy children +have beheld, without a thought, the foul insults poured on thee; thee, +their priest, their adored high priest, one who recalls the best days +of the past, the days of their great Judges? But one word, one single +movement of that mitred head, and---- But I speak unto a mind that feels +more than I can express. Be silent, tongue, thou art a babbling +counsellor. Jabaster’s patriot soul needs not the idle schooling of a +child. If he be silent, ‘tis that his wisdom deems that the hour is not +ripe, but when her leader speaks, Israel will not be slack.’ + +‘The Moslemin in council! We know what must come next. Our national +existence is in its last agony. Methinks the time is very ripe, Abidan.’ + +‘Why, so we think, great sir; and say the word, and twenty thousand +spears will guard the Ark. I’ll answer for my men. Stout Scherirah looks +grimly on the Moabites. A word from thee, and the whole Syrian army will +join our banner, the Lion of Judah, that shall be our flag. The tyrant +and his satraps, let them die, and then the rest must join us. We’ll +proclaim the covenant, and, leaving Babylon to a bloody fate, march on +to Zion!’ + +‘Zion, his youthful dream, Zion!’ + +‘You muse!’ + +‘King or no king, he is the Lord’s anointed. Shall this hand, that +poured the oil on his hallowed head, wash out the balmy signet with his +blood? Must I slay him? Shall this kid be seethed even in its mother’s +milk?’ + +‘His voice is low, and yet his face is troubled. How now, sir?’ + +‘What art thou? Ah! Abidan, trusty, stanch Abidan! You see, Abidan, I +was thinking, my good Abidan, all this may be the frenzy of a revel. +Tomorrow’s dawn may summon cooler counsels. The tattle of the table, it +is sacred. Let us forget it; let us pass it over. The Lord may turn his +heart. Who knows, who knows, Abidan!’ + +‘Noble sir, a moment since your mind was like your faith, firm and +resolved, and now----’ + +‘School me not, school me not, good Abidan. There is that within my mind +you cannot fathom; some secret sorrows which are all my own. Leave +me, good friend, leave me awhile. When Israel calls me I shall not be +wanting. Be sure of that, Abidan, be sure of that. Nay, do not go; the +night is very rough, and the fair prophetess should not again stem the +swelling river. I’ll to my closet, and will soon return.’ + +Jabaster quitted the gallery, and entered a small apartment. Several +large volumes, unclasped and open, were lying on various parts of the +divan. Before them stood his brazen cabalistic table. He closed +the chamber with a cautious air. He advanced into the centre of the +apartment. He lifted up his hands to heaven, and clasped them with an +expression almost of agony. + +‘Is it come to this?’ he muttered in a tone of deep oppression. ‘Is it +come to this? What is’t I have heard? what done? Down, tempting devil, +down! O life! O glory! O my country, my chosen people, and my sacred +creed! why do we live, why act? Why have we feeling for aught that’s +famous, or for aught that’s holy? Let me die! let, let me die! The +torture of existence is too great.’ + +He flung himself upon the couch; he buried his awful countenance in his +robes. His mighty heart was convulsed with passion. There did he lie, +that great and solemn man, prostrate and woe-begone. + +‘The noisy banquet lingers in my ear; I love to be alone.’ + +‘With me?’ + +‘Thou art myself; I have no other life.’ + +‘Sweet bird! It is now a caliph.’ + +‘I am what thou wiliest, soul of my sweet existence! Pomp and dominion, +fame and victory, seem now but flawed and dimly-shaded gems compared +with thy bright smile!’ + +‘My plaintive nightingale, shall we hunt to-day?’ + +‘Alas! my rose, I would rather lie upon this lazy couch, and gaze upon +thy beauty!’ + +‘Or sail upon the cool and azure lake, in some bright barque, like to a +sea-nymph’s shell, and followed by the swans?’ + +‘There is no lake so blue as thy deep eye; there is no swan so white as +thy round arm!’ + +‘Or shall we launch our falcons in the air, and bring the golden +pheasant to our feet?’ + +‘I am the golden pheasant at thy feet; why wouldst thou richer prey?’ + +‘Rememberest thou thy earliest visit to this dear kiosk, my gentle mute? +There thou stoodst with folded arms and looks demure as day, and ever +and anon with those dark eyes stealing a glance which made my cheek +quite pale. Methinks I see thee even yet, shy bird. Dost know, I was so +foolish when it quitted me, dost know I cried?’ + +‘Ah, no! thou didst not cry?’ + +‘Indeed, I think I did.’ + +‘Tell me again, my own Schirene, indeed didst cry?’ + +‘Indeed I did, my soul!’ + +‘I would those tears were in some crystal vase, I’d give a province for +the costly urn.’ + +She threw her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses. + +Sunset sounded from the minarets. They arose and wandered together in +the surrounding paradise. The sky was tinted with a pale violet flush, +a single star floating by the side of the white moon, that beamed with a +dim lustre, soft and shapely as a pearl. + +‘Beautiful!’ exclaimed the pensive Schirene, as she gazed upon the star. +‘O, my Alroy, why cannot we ever live alone, and ever in a paradise?’ + +‘I am wearied of empire,’ replied Alroy with a smile, ‘let us fly!’ + +‘Is there no island, with all that can make life charming, and yet +impervious to man? How little do we require! Ah! if these gardens, +instead of being surrounded by hateful Bagdad, were only encompassed by +some beautiful ocean!’ + +‘My heart, we live in a paradise, and are seldom disturbed, thanks to +Honain!’ + +‘But the very consciousness that there are any other persons existing +besides ourselves is to me painful. Every one who even thinks of you +seems to rob me of a part of your being. Besides, I am weary of pomp and +palaces. I should like to live in a sparry grot, and sleep upon a couch +of sweet leaves!’ + +This interesting discussion was disturbed by a dwarf, who, in addition +to being very small and very ugly, was dumb. He bowed before the +Princess; and then had recourse to a great deal of pantomimic action, by +which she discovered that it was dinnertime. No other person could +have ventured to disturb the royal pair, but this little being was a +privileged favourite. + +So Alroy and Schirene entered the serail. An immense cresset-lamp, fed +with perfumed oil, threw a soft light round the sumptuous chamber. At +the end stood a row of eunuchs in scarlet dresses, and each holding a +tall silver staff. The Caliph and the Sultana threw themselves upon +a couch covered with a hundred cushions; on one side stood a group +consisting of the captain of the guard and other officers of the +household, on the other, of beautiful female slaves magnificently +attired. + +The line of domestics at the end of the apartment opened, and a body of +slaves advanced, carrying trays of ivory and gold, and ebony and silver, +covered with the choicest dainties, curiously prepared. These were +in turn offered to the Caliph and the Sultana by their surrounding +attendants. The Princess accepted a spoon made of a single pearl, +the long, thin golden handle of which was studded with rubies, and +condescended to partake of some saffron soup, of which she was fond. +Afterwards she regaled herself with the breast of a cygnet, stuffed +with almonds, and stewed with violets and cream. Having now a little +satisfied her appetite, and wishing to show a mark of her favour to a +particular individual, she ordered the captain of the guard instantly +to send him the whole of the next course[74] with her compliments. Her +attention was then engaged with a dish of those delicate ortolans that +feed upon the vine-leaves of Schiraz, and with which the Governor of +Nishapur took especial care that she should be well provided. Tearing +the delicate birds to pieces with her still more delicate fingers, she +insisted upon feeding Alroy, who of course yielded to her solicitations. +In the meantime, they refreshed themselves with their favourite sherbet +of pomegranates, and the golden wine of Mount Lebanon.[76] The Caliph, +who could eat no more ortolans, although fed by such delicate fingers, +was at length obliged to call for ‘rice,’ which was synonymous to +commanding the banquet to disappear. The attendants now brought to each +basins of gold, and ewers of rock crystal filled with rose water, with +towels of that rare Egyptian linen which can be made only of the cotton +that grows upon the banks of the Nile. While they amused themselves with +eating sugar-plums, and drinking coffee flavoured with cinnamon, the +female slaves danced before them in the most graceful attitudes to the +melody of invisible musicians. + +‘My enchanting Schirene,’ said the Caliph, ‘I have dined, thanks to your +attention, very well. These slaves of yours dance admirably, and are +exceedingly beautiful. Your music, too, is beyond all praise; but, for +my own part, I would rather be quite alone, and listening to one of your +songs.’ + +‘I have written a new one to-day. You shall hear it.’ So saying, she +clapped her little white hands, and all the attendants immediately +withdrew. + +‘The stars are stealing forth, and so will I. Sorry sight! to view +Jabaster, with a stealthy step, skulk like a thing dishonoured! Oh! may +the purpose consecrate the deed! the die is cast.’ + +So saying, the High Priest, muffled up in his robe, emerged from his +palace into the busy streets. It is at night that the vitality of +Oriental life is most impressive. The narrow winding streets, crowded +with a population breathing the now sufferable air, the illuminated +coffee-houses, the groups of gay yet sober revellers, the music, and the +dancing, and the animated recitals of the poet and the story-teller, all +combine to invest the starry hours with a beguiling and even fascinating +character of enjoyment and adventure. + +It was the night after the visit of Abidan and the prophetess. Jabaster +had agreed to meet Abidan in the square of the great mosque two hours +after sunset, and thither he now repaired. + +‘I am somewhat before my time,’ he said, as he entered the great square, +over which the rising moon threw a full flood of light. A few dark +shadows of human beings alone moved in the distance. The world was in +the streets and coffee-houses. ‘I am somewhat before my time,’ said +Jabaster. ‘Conspirators are watchful. I am anxious for the meeting, and +yet I dread it. Since he broke this business, I have never slept. My +mind is a chaos. I will not think. If ‘tis to be done, let it be done at +once. I am more tempted to sheathe this dagger in Jabaster’s breast than +in Alroy’s. If life or empire were the paltry stake, I would end a life +that now can bring no joy, and yield authority that hath no charm; but +Israel, Israel, thou for whom I have endured so much, let me forget +Jabaster had a mother! + +‘But for this thought that links me with my God, and leads my temper to +a higher state, how vain and sad, how wearisome and void, were this said +world they think of! But for this thought, I could sit down and die. +Yea! my great heart could crack, worn out, worn out; my mighty passions, +with their fierce but flickering flame, sink down and die; and the +strong brain that ever hath urged my course, and pricked me onward with +perpetual thought, desert the rudder it so long hath held, like some +baffled pilot in blank discomfiture, in the far centre of an unknown +sea. + +‘Study and toil, anxiety and sorrow, mighty action, perchance Time, and +disappointment, which is worse than all, have done their work, and not +in vain. I am no longer the same Jabaster that gazed upon the stars of +Caucasus. Methinks even they look dimmer than of yore. The glory of my +life is fading. My leaves are sear, tinged, but not tainted. I am still +the same in one respect; I have not left my God, in deed or thought. Ah! +who art thou?’ + +‘A friend to Israel.’ + +‘I am glad that Israel hath a friend. Noble Abi-dan, I have well +considered all that hath passed between us. Sooth to say, you touched +upon a string I’ve played before, but kept it for my loneliness; a +jarring tune, indeed a jarring tune, but so it is, and being so, let me +at once unto your friends, Abi-dan.’ + +‘Noble Jabaster, thou art what I deemed thee.’ + +‘Abidan, they say the consciousness of doing justly is the best basis of +a happy mind.’ + +‘Even so.’ + +‘And thou believest it?’ + +‘Without doubt.’ + +‘We are doing very justly?’ + +‘‘Tis a weak word for such a holy purpose.’ + +‘I am most wretched!’ + +The High Priest and his companion entered the house of Abidan. Jabaster +addressed the already assembled guests. + +‘Brave Scherirah, it joys me to find thee here. In Israel’s cause when +was Scherirah wanting? Stout Zalmunna, we have not seen enough of each +other: the blame is mine. Gentle prophetess, thy blessing! + +‘Good friends, why we meet here is known to all. Little did we dream of +such a meeting when we crossed the Tigris. But that is nothing. We come +to act, and not to argue. Our great minds, they are resolved: our solemn +purpose requires no demonstration. If there be one among us who would +have Israel a slave to Ishmael, who would lose all we have prayed +for, all we have fought for, all we have won, and all for which we +are prepared to die, if there be one among us who would have the Ark +polluted, and Jehovah’s altar stained with a Gentile sacrifice, if there +be one among us who does not sigh for Zion, who would not yield his +breath to build the Temple and gain the heritage his fathers lost, +why, let him go! There is none such among us: then stay, and free your +country!’ + +‘We are prepared, great Jabaster; we are prepared, all, all!’ + +‘I know it; you are like myself. Necessity hath taught decision. Now for +our plans. Speak, Zalmunna.’ + +‘Noble Jabaster, I see much difficulty. Alroy no longer quits his +palace. Our entrance unwatched is, you well know, impossible. What say +you, Scherirah?’ + +‘I doubt not of my men, but war against Alroy is, to say nought of +danger, of doubtful issue.’ + +‘I am prepared to die, but not to fail,’ said Abidan. ‘We must be +certain. Open war I fear. The mass of the army will side with their +leaders, and they are with the tyrant. Let us do the deed, and they must +join us.’ + +‘Is it impossible to gain his presence to some sacrifice in honour of +some by-gone victory; what think ye?’ + +‘I doubt much, Jabaster. At this moment he little wishes to sanction our +national ceremonies with his royal person. The woman assuredly will +stay him. And, even if he come, success is difficult, and therefore +doubtful.’ + +‘Noble warriors, list to a woman’s voice,’ exclaimed the prophetess, +coming forward. ‘‘Tis weak, but with such instruments, even the +aspirations of a child, the Lord will commune with his chosen people. +There is a secret way by which I can gain the gardens of the palace. +To-morrow night, just as the moon is in her midnight bower, behold the +accursed pile shall blaze. Let Abidan’s troops be all prepared, and at +the moment when the flames first ascend, march to the Seraglio gate as +if with aid. The affrighted guard will offer no opposition. While +the troops secure the portals, you yourselves, Zalmunna, Abidan, and +Jabaster, rush to the royal chamber and do the deed. In the meantime, +let brave Scherirah, with his whole division, surround the palace, as if +unconscious of the mighty work. Then come you forward, show, if it need, +with tears, the fated body to the soldiery, and announce the Theocracy.’ + +‘It is the Lord who speaks,’ said Abidan, who was doubtless prepared for +the proposition. ‘He has delivered them into our hands.’ + +‘A bold plan,’ said Jabaster, musing, ‘and yet I like it. ‘Tis quick, +and that is something. I think ‘tis sure.’ + +‘It cannot fail,’ exclaimed Zalmunna, ‘for if the flame ascend not, +still we are but where we were.’ + +‘I am for it,’ said Scherirah. + +‘Well, then,’ said Jabaster, ‘so let it be. Tomorrow’s eve will see us +here again prepared. Good night.’ + +‘Good night, holy Priest. How seem the stars, Jabaster?’ + +‘Very troubled; so have they been some days. What they portend I know +not.’ + +‘Health to Israel.’ + +‘Let us hope so. Good night, sweet friends.’ + +‘Good night, holy Jabaster. Thou art our cornerstone.’ + +‘Israel hath no other hope but in Jabaster.’ + +‘My Lord,’ said Abidan, ‘remain, I pray, one moment.’ + +‘What is’t? I fain would go.’ + +‘Alroy must die, my Lord, but dost thou think a single death will seal +the covenant?’ + +‘The woman?’ + +‘Ay! the woman! I was not thinking of the woman. Asriel, Ithamar, +Medad?’ + +‘Valiant soldiers! doubt not we shall find them useful instruments. I +do not fear such loose companions. They follow their leaders, like other +things born to obey. Having no head themselves, they must follow us who +have.’ + +‘I think so too. There is no other man who might be dangerous?’ + +Zalmunna and Scherirah cast their eyes upon the ground. There was a dead +silence, broken by the prophetess. + +‘A judgment hath gone forth against Honain!’ ‘Nay! he is Lord Jabaster’s +brother,’ said Abidan. + +‘It is enough to save a more inveterate foe to Israel, if such there +be.’ + +‘I have no brother, Sir. The man you speak of I will not slay, since +there are others who may do that deed. And so again, good night.’ + +It was the dead of night, a single lamp burned in the chamber, which +opened into an arched gallery that descended by a flight of steps into +the gardens of the Serail. + +A female figure ascended the flight with slow and cautious steps. She +paused on the gallery, she looked around, one foot was in the chamber. + +She entered. She entered a chamber of small dimensions, but richly +adorned. In the farthest corner was a couch of ivory, hung with a gauzy +curtain of silver tissue, which, without impeding respiration, protected +the slumberer from the fell insects of an Oriental night. Leaning +against an ottoman was a large brazen shield of ancient fashion, and +near it some helmets and curious weapons. + +‘An irresistible impulse hath carried me into this chamber!’ exclaimed +the prophetess. ‘The light haunted me like a spectre; and wheresoever I +moved, it seemed to summon me. + +‘A couch and a slumberer!’ + +She approached the object, she softly withdrew the curtain. Pale and +panting, she rushed back, yet with a light step. She beheld Alroy! + +For a moment she leant against the wall, overpowered by her emotions. +Again she advanced, and gazed on her unconscious victim. + +‘Can the guilty sleep like the innocent? Who would deem this gentle +slumberer had betrayed the highest trust that ever Heaven vouchsafed to +favoured man? He looks not like a tyrant and a traitor: calm his brow, +and mild his placid breath! His long dark hair, dark as the raven’s +wing, hath broken from its fillet, and courses, like a wild and stormy +night, over his pale and moon-lit brow. His cheek is delicate, and yet +repose hath brought a flush; and on his lip there seems some word of +love, that will not quit it. It is the same Alroy that blessed our +vision when, like the fresh and glittering star of morn, he rose up in +the desert, and bringing joy to others, brought to me only---- + +‘Oh! hush my heart, and let thy secret lie hid in the charnel-house of +crushed affections. Hard is the lot of woman: to love and to conceal is +our sharp doom! O bitter life! O most unnatural lot! Man made society, +and made us slaves. And so we droop and die, or else take refuge in idle +fantasies, to which we bring the fervour that is meant for nobler ends. + +‘Beauteous hero! whether I bear thee most hatred or most love I cannot +tell. Die thou must; yet I feel I should die with thee. Oh! that +to-night could lead at the same time unto our marriage bed and funeral +pyre. Must that white bosom bleed? and must those delicate limbs be +hacked and handled by these bloody butchers? Is that justice? They lie, +the traitors, when they call thee false to our God. Thou art thyself a +god, and I could worship thee! See those beauteous lips; they move. Hark +to the music!’ + +‘Schirene, Schirene!’ + +‘There wanted but that word to summon back my senses. Fool! whither is +thy fancy wandering? I will not wait for tardy justice. I will do the +deed myself. Shall I not kill my Sisera?’ She seized a dagger from the +ottoman, a rare and highly-tempered blade. Up she raised it in the air, +and dashed it to his heart with superhuman force. It struck against the +talisman which Jabaster had given to Alroy, and which, from a lingering +superstition, he still wore; it struck, and shivered into a thousand +pieces. The Caliph sprang from his couch; his eyes met the prophetess, +standing over him in black despair, with the hilt of the dagger in her +hand. + +‘What is all this? Schirene! Who art thou? Esther!’ He jumped from +the couch, called to Pharez, and seized her by both hands. ‘Speak!’ he +continued. ‘Art thou Esther? What dost thou here?’ + +She broke into a wild laugh; she wrestled with his grasp, and pulled him +towards the gallery. He beheld the chief tower of the Serail in flames. +Joining her hands together, grasping them both in one of his, and +dragging her towards the ottoman, he seized a helmet and flung it upon +the mighty shield. It sounded like a gong. Pharez started from his +slumbers, and rushed into the chamber. + +‘Pharez! Treason! treason! Send instant orders that the palace gates be +opened on no pretence whatever. Go, fly! See the captain himself. Summon +the household. Order all to arms. Speed, for our lives!’ + +The whole palace was now roused. Alroy delivered Esther, exhausted, +and apparently senseless, to a guard of eunuchs. Slaves and attendants +poured in from all directions. Soon arrived Schirene, with dishevelled +hair and hurried robes, attended by a hundred maidens, each bearing a +torch. + +‘My soul, what ails thee?’ + +‘Nothing, sweetest; all will soon be well,’ replied Alroy, picking up, +and examining the fragments of the shivered dagger, which he had just +discovered. + +‘My life has been attempted; the palace is in flames; I suspect the city +is in insurrection. Look to your mistress, maidens!’ Schirene fell into +their arms. ‘I will soon be back.’ So saying, he hurried to the grand +court. + +Several thousand persons, for the population of the Serail and its +liberties was very considerable, were assembled in the grand court; +eunuchs, women, pages, slaves, and servants, and a few soldiers; all +in confusion and alarm, fire raging within, and mysterious and terrible +outcries without. A cry of ‘The Caliph! the Caliph!’ announced the +arrival of Alroy, and produced a degree of comparative silence. + +‘Where is the captain of the guard?’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s well. Open +the gates to none. Who will leap the wall and bear a message to Asriel? +You? That’s well too. To-morrow you shall yourself command. Where’s +Mesrour? Take the eunuch guard and the company of gardeners,76 and +suppress the flames at all cost. Pull down the intervening buildings. +Abidan’s troop arrived with succour, eh! I doubt it not. I expected +them. Open to none. They force an entrance, eh! I thought so. So that +javelin has killed a traitor. Feed me with arms. I’ll keep the gate. +Send again to Asriel. Where’s Pharez?’ + +‘By your side, my lord.’ + +‘Run to the Queen, my faithful Pharez, and tell her that all’s well. I +wish it were! Didst ever hear a din so awful? Methinks all the tambours +and cymbals of the city are in full chorus. Foul play, I guess. Oh! for +Asriel! Has Pharez returned?’ + +‘I am by your side, my lord.’ + +‘How’s the Queen?’ + +‘She would gladly join your side.’ + +‘No, no! Keep the gates there. Who says they are making fires before +them? Tis true. We must sally, if the worst come to the worst, and die +at least like soldiers. O Asriel! Asriel!’ + +‘May it please your Highness, the troops are pouring in from all +quarters.’ + +‘‘Tis Asriel.’ + +‘No, your Highness, ‘tis not the guard. Methinks they are Scherirah’s +men.’ + +‘Hum! What it all is, I know not; but very foul play I do not doubt. +Where’s Honain?’ + +‘With the Queen, Sire.’ + +‘‘Tis well. What’s that shout?’ + +‘Here’s the messenger from Asriel. Make way! way!’ + +‘Well! how is’t, Sir?’ + +‘Please your Highness, I could not reach the guard.’ + +‘Could not reach the guard! God of my fathers! who should let thee?’ + +‘Sire, I was taken prisoner.’ + +‘Prisoner! By the thunder of Sinai, are we at war? Who made thee +prisoner?’ + +‘Sire, they have proclaimed thy death.’ + +‘Who?’ + +‘The council of the Elders. So I heard. Abidan, Zalmunna----’ + +‘Rebels and dogs! Who else?’ + +‘The High Priest.’ + +‘Hah! Is it there? Pharez, fetch me some drink. Is it true Scherirah has +joined them?’ + +‘His force surrounds the Serail. No aid can reach us without cutting +through his ranks.’ + +‘Oh! that I were there with my good guard! Are we to die here like rats, +fairly murdered? Cowardly knaves! Hold out, hold out, my men! ‘Tis sharp +work, but some of us will smile at this hereafter. Who stands by Alroy +to-night bravely and truly, shall have his heart’s content to-morrow. +Fear not: I was not born to die in a civic broil. I bear a charmed life. +So to it.’ + +‘Go to the Caliph, good Honain, I pray thee, go. I can support myself, +he needs thy counsel. Bid him not expose his precious life. The wicked +men! Asriel must soon be here. What sayest thou?’ + +‘There is no fear. Their plans are ill-devised. I have long expected +this stormy night, and feel even now more anxious than alarmed.’ + +‘‘Tis at me they aim; it is I whom they hate. The High Priest, too! Ay, +ay! Thy proud brother, good Honain, I have ever felt he would not rest +until he drove me from this throne, my right; or washed my hated name +from out our annals in my life’s blood. Wicked, wicked Jabaster! He +frowned upon me from the first, Honain. Is he indeed thy brother?’ + +‘I care not to remember. He aims at something further than thy life; but +Time will teach us more than all our thoughts.’ + +The fortifications of the Serail resisted all the efforts of the rebels. +Scherirah remained in his quarters, with his troops under arms, and +recalled the small force that he had originally sent out as much to +watch the course of events as to assist Abidan. Asriel and Ithamar +poured down their columns in the rear of that chieftain, and by dawn a +division of the guard had crossed the river, the care of which had been +entrusted to Scherirah, and had thrown themselves into the palace. Alroy +sallied forth at the head of these fresh troops. His presence decided a +result which was perhaps never doubtful. The division of Abidan fought +with the desperation that became their fortunes. The carnage was +dreadful, but their discomfiture complete. They no longer acted +in masses, or with any general system. They thought only of +self-preservation, or of selling their lives at the dearest cost. Some +dispersed, some escaped. Others entrenched themselves in houses, others +fortified the bazaar. All the horrors of war in the streets were now +experienced. The houses were in flames, the thoroughfares flowed with +blood. + +At the head of a band of faithful followers, Abidan proved himself, by +his courage and resources, worthy of success. At length, he was alone, +or surrounded only by his enemies. With his back against a building in a +narrow street, where the number of his opponents only embarrassed them, +the three foremost of his foes fell before his irresistible scimitar. +The barricaded door yielded to the pressure of the multitude. Abidan +rushed up the narrow stairs, and, gaining a landing-place, turned +suddenly round, and cleaved the skull of his nearest pursuer. He hurled +the mighty body at his followers, and, retarding their advance, himself +dashed onward, and gained the terrace of the mansion. Three soldiers of +the guard followed him as he bounded from terrace to terrace. One, armed +with a javelin, hurled it at the chieftain. The weapon slightly wounded +Abidan, who, drawing it from his arm, sent it back to the heart of its +owner. The two other soldiers, armed only with swords, gained upon him. +He arrived at the last terrace in the cluster of buildings. He stood +at bay on the brink of the precipice. He regained his breath. They +approached him. He dodged them in their course. Suddenly, with admirable +skill, he flung his scimitar edgewise at the legs of his farthest +foe, who stopped short, roaring with pain. The chieftain sprang at the +foremost, and hurled him down into the street below, where he was dashed +to atoms. A trap-door offered itself to the despairing eye of the +rebel. He descended and found himself in a room filled with women. They +screamed, he rushed through them, and descending a Staircase, entered a +chamber tenanted by a bed-ridden old man. The ancient invalid enquired +the cause of the uproar, and died of fright before he could receive +an answer, at the sight of the awful being before him, covered with +streaming blood. Abidan secured the door, washed his blood-stained face, +and disguising himself in the dusty robes of the deceased Armenian, +sallied forth to watch the fray. The obscure street was silent. The +chieftain proceeded unmolested. At the corner he found a soldier holding +a charger for his captain. Abidan, unarmed, seized a poniard from the +soldier’s belt, stabbed him to the heart, and vaulting on the steed, +galloped towards the river. No boat was to be found; he breasted the +stream upon the stout courser. He reached the opposite bank. A company +of camels were reposing by the side of a fountain. Alarm had dispersed +their drivers. He mounted the fleetest in appearance; he dashed to the +nearest gate of the city. The guard at the gate refused him a passage. +He concealed his agitation. A marriage procession, returning from the +country, arrived. He rushed into the centre of it, and overset the bride +in her gilded wagon. In the midst of the confusion, the shrieks, the +oaths, and the scuffle, he forced his way through the gate, scoured over +the country, and never stopped until he had gained the desert. + +The uproar died away. The shouts of warriors, the shrieks of women, the +wild clang of warfare, all were silent. The flames were extinguished, +the carnage ceased. The insurrection was suppressed, and order restored. +The city, all the houses of which were closed, was patrolled by the +conquering troops, and by sunset the conqueror himself, in his hall of +state, received the reports and the congratulations of his chieftains. +The escape of Abidan seemed counterbalanced by the capture of Jabaster. +After performing prodigies of valour, the High Priest had been +overpowered, and was now a prisoner in the Serail. The conduct of +Scherirah was not too curiously criticised; a commission was appointed +to enquire into the mysterious affair; and Alroy retired to the bath[77] +to refresh himself after the fatigues of the victory which he could not +consider a triumph. + +As he reposed upon his couch, melancholy and exhausted, Schirene was +announced. The Princess threw herself upon his neck and covered him with +embraces. His heart yielded to her fondness, his spirit became lighter, +his depression melted away. + +‘My ruby!’ said Schirene, and she spoke in a low smothered voice, her +face hidden and nestled in his breast. ‘My ruby! dost thou love me?’ + +He smiled in fondness as he pressed her to his heart. + +‘My ruby, thy pearl is so frightened, it dare not look upon thee. Wicked +men! ‘tis I whom they hate, ‘tis I whom they would destroy.’ + +‘There is no danger, sweet. ‘Tis over now. Speak not, nay, do not think +of it.’ + +‘Ah! wicked men! There is no joy on earth while such things live. +Slay Alroy, their mighty master, who, from vile slaves, hath made them +princes! Ungrateful churls! I am so alarmed, I ne’er shall sleep again. +What! slay my innocent bird, my pretty bird, my very heart! I’ll not +believe it. It is I whom they hate. I am sure they will kill me. You +shall never leave me, no, no, no, no! You shall not leave me, love, +never, never! Didst hear a noise? Methinks they are even here, ready to +plunge their daggers in our hearts, our soft, soft hearts! I think you +love me, child; indeed, I think you do!’ + +‘Take courage, heart! There is no fear, my soul; I cannot love thee +more, or else I would.’ + +‘All joy is gone! I ne’er shall sleep again. O my soul! art thou +indeed alive? Do I indeed embrace my own Alroy, or is it all a wild and +troubled dream, and are my arms clasped round a shadowy ghost, myself a +spectre in a sepulchre? Wicked, wicked men! Can it indeed be true? What, +slay Alroy! my joy, my only life! Ah! woe is me; our bright felicity +hath fled for ever!’ + +‘Not so, sweet child; we are but as we were. A few quick hours, and all +will be as bright as if no storm had crossed our sunny days.’ + +‘Hast seen Asriel? He says such fearful things!’ + +‘How now?’ + +‘Ah me! I am desolate. I have no friend.’ + +‘Schirene!’ + +‘They will have my blood. I know they will have my blood.’ + +‘Indeed, an idle fancy.’ + +‘Idle! Ask Asriel, question Ithamar. Idle! ‘tis written in their +tablets, their bloody scroll of rapine and of murder. Thy death led only +to mine, and, had they hoped my bird would but have yielded his gentle +mate, they would have spared him. Ay! ay! ‘tis I whom they hate, ‘tis I +whom they would destroy. This form, I fear it has lost its lustre, but +still ‘tis thine, and once thou saidst thou lovedst it; this form was to +have been hacked and mangled; this ivory bosom was to have been ripped +up and tortured, and this warm blood, that flows alone for thee, +that fell Jabaster was to pour its tide upon the altar of his ancient +vengeance. He ever hated me!’ + +‘Jabaster! Schirene! Where are we, and what are we? Life, life, they +lie, that call thee Nature! Nature never sent these gusts of agony. Oh! +my heart will break. I drove him from my thought, and now she calls him +up, and now must I remember he is my-prisoner! God of heaven, God of my +fathers, is it come to this? Why did he not escape? Why must Abidan, a +common cut-throat, save his graceless life, and this great soul, this +stern and mighty being---- Ah me! I have lived long enough. Would they +had not failed, would----’ + +‘Stop, stop, Alroy! I pray thee, love, be calm. I came to soothe thee, +not to raise thy passions. I did not say Jabaster willed thy death, +though Asriel says so; ‘tis me he wars against; and if indeed Jabaster +be a man so near thy heart, if he indeed be one so necessary to thy +prosperity, and cannot live in decent order with thy slave that’s here, +I know my duty, Sir. I would not have thy fortunes farred to save my +single heart, although I think ‘twill break. I will go, I will die, +and deem the hardest accident of life but sheer prosperity if it profit +thee.’ + +‘O Schirene! what wouldst thou? This, this is torture.’ + +‘To see thee safe and happy; nothing more.’ + +‘I am both, if thou art.’ + +‘Care not for me, I am nothing.’ + +‘Thou art all to me.’ + +‘Calm thyself, my soul. It grieves me much that when I came to soothe I +have only galled thee. All’s well, all’s well. Say that Jabaster lives. +What then? He lives, and may he prove more duteous than before; that’s +all.’ + +‘He lives, he is my prisoner, he awaits his doom. It must be given.’ + +‘Yes, yes!’ + +‘Shall we pardon?’ + +‘My lord will do that which it pleases him.’ + +‘Nay, nay, Schirene, I pray thee be more kind. I am most wretched. +Speak, what wouldst thou?’ + +‘If I must speak, I say at once, his life.’ + +‘Ah me!’ + +‘If our past loves have any charm, if the hope ot future joy, not less +supreme, be that which binds thee to this shadowy world, as it does me, +and does alone, I say his life, his very carnal life. He stands between +us and our loves, Alroy, and ever has done. There is no happiness if +Jabaster breathe; nor can I be the same Schirene to thee as I have been, +if this proud rebel live to spy my conduct.’ + +‘Banish him, banish him!’ + +‘To herd with rebels. Is this thy policy?’ + +‘O Schirene! I love not this man, although me-thinks I should: yet didst +thou know but all!’ + +‘I know too much, Alroy. From the first he has been to me a hateful +thought. Come, come, sweet bird, a boon, a boon unto thy own Schirene, +who was so frightened by these wicked men! I fear it has done more +mischief than thou deemest. Ay! robbed us of our hopes. It may be so. A +boon, a boon! It is not much I ask: a traitor’s head. Come, give me thy +signet ring. It will not; nay, then, I’ll take it. What, resist! I know +thou oft hast told me a kiss could vanquish all denial. There it is. +Is’t sweet? Shalt have another, and another too. I’ve got the ring! +Farewell, my lovely bird, I’ll soon return to pillow in thy nest.’ + +‘She has got the ring! What’s this? what’s this? Schirene! art gone? +Nay, surely not. She jests. Jabaster! A traitor’s head! What ho! there. +Pharez, Pharez!’ + +‘My lord.’ + +‘Passed the Queen that way?’ + +‘She did, my lord.’ + +‘In tears?’ + +‘Nay! very joyful!’ + +‘Call Honain, quick as my thought. Honain! Honain! He waits without. I +have seen the best of life, that’s very sure. My heart is cracking. She +surely jests! Hah! Honain. Pardon these distracted looks. Fly to the +Armoury! fly, fly!’ + +‘For what, my lord?’ + +‘Ay! for what, for what! My brain it wanders. Thy brother, thy great +brother, the Queen, the Queen has stolen my signet ring, that is, I gave +it her. Fly, fly! or in a word, Jabaster is no more. He is gone. Pharez! +your arm; I swoon!’ + +‘His Highness is sorely indisposed to-day.’ + +‘They say he swooned this morn.’ + +‘Ay, in the bath.’ + +‘No, not in the bath. ‘Twas when he heard of Jabaster’s death.’ + +‘How died he, Sir?’ + +‘Self-strangled. His mighty heart could not endure disgrace, and thus he +ended all his glorious deeds.’ + +‘A great man!’ + +‘We shall not soon see his match. The Queen had gained his pardon, and +herself flew to the Armoury to bear the news; alas! too late.’ + +‘These are strange times. Jabaster dead!’ + +‘A very great event.’ + +‘Who will be High Priest?’ + +‘I doubt if the appointment will be filled up.’ + +‘Sup you with the Lord Ithamar to-night?’ + +‘I do.’ + +‘I also. We’ll go together. The Queen had gained his pardon. Hum! ‘tis +strange.’ + +‘Passing so. They say Abidan has escaped?’ + +‘I hear it. Shall we meet Medad to-night?’ + +‘‘Tis likely.’ + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + _The Fall of Alroy_ + +SHE comes not yet! her cheerful form, not yet it sparkles in our +mournful sky. She comes not yet! the shadowy stars seem sad and +lustreless without their Queen. She comes not yet!’ + +‘_WE ARE THE WATCHERS OF THE MOON,[78] AND LIVE IN LONELINESS TO HERALD +LIGHT._’ + +‘She comes not yet! her sacred form, not yet it summons to our holy +feast. She comes not yet! our brethren far wait mute and motionless the +saintly beam. She comes not yet!’ + +‘_WE ARE THE WATCHERS OF THE MOON, AND LIVE IN LONELINESS TO HERALD +LIGHT_.’ + +‘She comes, she comes! her beauteous form sails with soft splendour in +the glittering air. She comes, she comes! The beacons fire, and tell the +nation that the month begins! She comes, she comes!’ + +‘_WE ARE THE WATCHERS OF THE MOON, TO TELL THE NATION THAT THE MONTH +BEGINS_.’ + +Instantly the holy watchers fired the beacons on the mountain top, and +anon a thousand flames blazed round the land. From Caucasus to Lebanon, +on every peak a crown of light. + +‘Sire! a Tatar has arrived from Hamadan, who will see none but thyself. +I have told him your Highness was engaged, and sent him to the Lord +Honain; but all denial is lost upon him. And as I thought perhaps the +Lady Miriam----’ + +‘From Hamadan? You did well, Pharez. Admit him.’ + +The Tatar entered. + +‘Well, Sir; good news, I hope!’ + +‘Sire, pardon me, the worst. I come from the Lord Abner, with orders to +see the Caliph, and none else.’ + +‘Well, Sir, you see the Caliph. Your mission? What of the Viceroy?’ + +‘Sire, he bade me tell thee, that, the moment the beacon that announced +the Feast of the New Moon was fired on Caucasus, the dreaded monarch of +Karasmé, the great Alp Arslan, entered thy kingdom, and now overruns all +Persia.’ + +‘Hah! and Abner?’ + +‘Is in the field, and prays for aid.’ + +‘He shall have it. This is indeed great news! When left you Hamadan?’ + +‘Night and day I have journeyed upon the swiftest dromedary. The third +morn sees me at Bagdad.’ + +‘You have done your duty. See this faithful courier be well tended, +Pharez. Summon the Lord Honain.’ + +‘Alp Arslan! Hah! a very famous warrior. The moment the beacon was +fired. No sudden impulse then, but long matured. I like it not.’ + +‘Sire,’ said Pharez, re-entering, ‘a Tatar has arrived from the +frontiers of the province, who will see none but thyself. I have told +him your Highness was deeply busied, and as methinks he brings but the +same news, I----’ + +‘‘Tis very likely; yet never _think_, good Pharez. I’ll see the man.’ +The Tatar entered. + +‘Well, Sir, how now! from whom?’ + +‘From Mozul. The Governor bade me see the Caliph and none else, and tell +your Highness that the moment the beacon that announced the Feast of the +New Moon was fired on the mountains, the fell rebel Abidan raised the +standard of Judah in the province, and proclaimed war against your +Majesty.’ + +‘In any force?’ + +‘The royal power keeps within their walls.’ + +‘Sufficient answer. Part of the same movement. We shall have some +trouble. Hast summoned Honain?’ + +‘I have, Sire.’ + +‘Go, see this messenger be duly served, and, Pharez, come hither: let +none converse with them. You understand?’ + +‘Your Highness may assure yourself.’ + +‘Abidan come to life. He shall not escape so well this time. I must see +Scherirah. I much suspect----what’s this? More news!’ + +A third Tatar entered. + +‘May it please your Highness, this Tatar has arrived from the Syrian +frontier.’ + +‘Mischief in the wind, I doubt not. Speak out, knave!’ + +‘Sire! pardon me; I bear but sad intelligence.’ + +‘Out with the worst!’ + +‘I come from the Lord Medad.’ + +‘Well! has he rebelled? It seems a catching fever.’ + +‘Ah! no, dread Sire, Lord Medad has no thought but for thy glory. Alas! +alas! he has now to guard it against fearful odds. Lord Medad bade me +see the Caliph and none else, and tell your Highness, that the moment +the beacon which announced the Feast of the New Moon was fired on +Lebanon, the Sultan of Roum and the old Arabian Caliph unfurled the +standard of their Prophet, in great array, and are now marching towards +Bagdad.’ + +‘A clear conspiracy! Has Honain arrived? Summon a council of the Vizirs +instantly. The world is up against me. Well! I’m sick of peace. They +shall not find me napping!’ + +‘You see, my lords,’ said Alroy, ere the council broke up, ‘we must +attack them singly. There can be no doubt of that. If they join, we must +combat at great odds. ‘Tis in detail that we must route them. I will +myself to Persia. Ithamar must throw himself between the Sultan and +Abidan, Medad fall back on Ithamar. Scherirah must guard the capital. +Honain, you are Regent. And so farewell. I shall set off to-night. +Courage, brave companions. ‘Tis a storm, but many a cedar survives the +thunderbolt.’ + +The council broke up. + +‘My own Scherirah!’ said the Caliph, as they retired, ‘stay awhile. +I would speak with you alone. Honain,’ continued Alroy, following the +Grand Vizir out of the chamber, and leaving Scherirah alone, ‘Honain, I +have not yet interchanged a word with you in private. What think you of +all this?’ + +‘Sire, I am prepared for the worst, but hope the best.’ + +‘‘Tis wise. If Abner could only keep that Karasmian in check! I am about +to speak with Scherirah alone. I do suspect him much.’ + +‘I’ll answer for his treason.’ + +‘Hah! I do suspect him. Therefore I give him no command. I would not +have him too near his old companion, eh? We will garrison the city with +his rebels.’ + +‘Sire, these are not moments to be nice. Scherirah is a valiant captain, +a very valiant captain, but lend me thy signet ring, I pray thee, Sire.’ + +Alroy turned pale. + +‘No, Sir, it has left me once, and never shall again. You have touched +upon a string that makes me sad. There is a burden on my conscience, +why, or what, I know not. I am innocent, you know I am innocent, +Honain!’ + +‘I’ll answer for your Highness. He who has enough of the milk of human +kindness to spare a thing like Scherirah, when he stands in his way, may +well be credited for the nobler mercy that spared his better.’ + +‘Ah me! there’s madness in the thought. Why is he not here? Had I +but followed; tush! tush! Go see the Queen, and tell her all that has +happened. I’ll to Scherirah.’ + +The Caliph returned. + +‘Thy pardon, brave Scherirah; in these moments my friends will pardon +lapse of courtesy.’ + +‘Your Highness is too considerate.’ + +‘You see, Scherirah, how the wind blows, brave heart. There’s much to +do, no doubt. I am in sad want of some right trusty friend, on whose +devoted bosom I can pillow all my necessities. I was thinking of sending +you against this Arslan, but perhaps ‘tis better that I should go +myself. These are moments one should not seem to shrink, and yet we know +not how affairs may run; no, we know not. The capital, the surrounding +province: one disaster and these false Moslemin may rise against us. I +should stay here, but if I leave Scherirah, I leave myself. I feel that +deeply; ‘tis a consolation. It may be that I must fall back upon the +city. Be prepared, Scherirah. Let me fall back upon supporting friends. +You have a great trust. Oh! use it wisely! Worthily I am sure you must +do.’ + +‘Your Highness may rest assured I have no other thought but for your +weal and glory. Doubt not my devotion, Sire. I am not one of those +mealy-mouthed youths, full of their own deeds and lip-worship, Sire, but +I have a life devoted to your service, and ready at all times to peril +all things.’ + +‘I know that, Scherirah, I know it; I feel it deeply. What think you of +these movements?’ + +‘They are not ill combined, and yet I doubt not your Majesty will prove +your fortunes most triumphant.’ + +‘Think you the soldiery are in good cue?’ ‘I’ll answer for my own. +They are rough fellows, like myself, a little too blunt, perhaps, your +Highness. We are not holiday guards, but we know our duty, and we will +do it.’ + +‘That’s well, that’s all I want. I shall review the troops before I +go. Let a donative be distributed among them; and, ‘by-the-bye, I have +always forgotten it, your legion should be called the Legion of Syria. +We owe our fairest province to their arms.’ + +‘I shall convey to them your Highness’ wish. Were it possible, ‘twould +add to their devotion.’ + +‘I do not wish it. They are my very children. Sup at the Serail +to-night, Scherirah. We shall be very private. Yet let us drink together +ere we part. We are old friends, you know. Hast not forgotten our ruined +city?’ + +Alroy entered the apartment of Schirene. ‘My soul! thou knowest all?’ + +She sprang forward and threw her arms around his neck. + +‘Fear not, my life, we’ll not disgrace our Queen. ‘Twill be quick work. +Two-thirds of them have been beaten before, and for the new champion, +our laurels must not fade, and his blood shall nourish fresh ones.’ + +‘Dearest, dearest Alroy, go not thyself, I pray thee. May not Asriel +conquer?’ + +‘I hope so, in my company. For a time we part, a short one. ‘Tis our +first parting: may it be our last!’ + +‘Oh! no, no, no: oh! say not we must part.’ + +‘The troops are under arms; to-morrow’s dawn will hear my trumpet.’ + +‘I will not quit thee, no! I will not quit thee. What business +has Schirene without Alroy? Hast thou not often told me I am thy +inspiration? In the hour of danger shall I be wanting? Never! I will not +quit thee; no, I will not quit thee.’ + +‘Thou art ever present in my thoughts, my soul. In the battle I shall +think of her for whom alone I conquer.’ + +‘Nay, nay, I’ll go, indeed I must, Alroy. I’ll be no hindrance, trust +me, sweet boy, I will not. I’ll have no train, no, not a single maid. +Credit me, I know how a true soldier’s wife should bear herself. I’ll +watch thee sleeping, and I’ll tend thee wounded, and when thou goest +forth to combat I’ll gird thy sabre round thy martial side, and whisper +triumph with victorious kisses.’ + +‘My own Schirene, there’s victory in thine eyes. We’ll beat them, girl.’ + +‘Abidan, doubly false Abidan! would he were doubly hanged! Ere she +died, the fatal prophetess foretold this time, and gloated on his future +treachery.’ + +‘Think not of him.’ + +‘And the Karasmian; think you he is very strong?’ ‘Enough, love, for our +glory. He is a potent warrior: I trust that Abner will not rob us of our +intended victory.’ + +‘So you triumph, I care not by whose sword. Dost go indeed to-morrow?’ + +‘At break of dawn. I pray thee stay, my sweet!’ ‘Never! I will not quit +thee. I am quite prepared. At break of dawn? ‘Tis near on midnight now. +I’ll lay me down upon this couch awhile, and travel in my litter. Art +sure Alp Arslan is himself in the field?’ + +‘Quite sure, my sweet.’ + +‘Confusion on his crown! We’ll conquer. Goes Asriel with us?’ ‘Ay!’ + +‘That’s well; at break of dawn. I’m somewhat drowsy. Methinks I’ll sleep +awhile.’ + +‘Do, my best heart; I’ll to my cabinet, and at break of dawn I’ll wake +thee with a kiss.’ + +The Caliph repaired to his cabinet, where his secretaries were occupied +in writing. As he paced the chamber, he dictated to them the necessary +instructions. + +‘Who is the officer on guard?’ + +‘Benaiah, Sire.’ + +‘I remember him. He saved me a broken skull upon the Tigris. This is for +him. The Queen accompanies us. She is his charge. These papers for the +Vizir. Let the troops be under arms by daybreak. This order of the +day for the Lord Asriel. Send this instantly to Hamadan. Is the Tatar +despatched to Medad? ‘Tis well. You have done your duty. Now to rest. +Pharez?’ + +‘My lord.’ + +‘I shall not sleep to-night. Give me my drink. Go rest, good boy. I have +no wants. Good night.’ + +‘Good night, my gracious lord!’ + +‘Let me ponder! I am alone. I am calm, and yet my spirit is not quick. +I am not what I was. Four-and-twenty hours ago who would have dreamed of +this? All at stake again! Once more in the field, and struggling at once +for empire and existence! I do lack the mighty spirit of my former days. +I am not what I was. I have little faith. All about me seems changed, +and dull, and grown mechanical. Where are those flashing eyes and +conquering visages that clustered round me on the battle eve, round me, +the Lord’s anointed? I see none such. They are changed, as I am. Why! +this Abidan was a host, and now he fights against me. She spoke of the +prophetess; I remember that woman was the stirring trumpet of our ranks, +and now where is she? The victim of my justice! And where is he, the +mightier far, the friend, the counsellor, the constant guide, the master +of my boyhood; the firm, the fond, the faithful guardian of all my +bright career; whose days and nights were one unbroken study to make me +glorious? Alas! I feel more like a doomed and desperate renegade than +a young hero on the eve of battle, flushed with the memory of unbroken +triumphs! + +‘Hah! what awful form art thou that risest from the dusky earth before +me? Thou shouldst be one I dare not name, yet will: the likeness of +Jabaster. Away! why frownest thou upon me? I did not slay thee. Do I +live, or dream, or what? I see him, ay! I see thee. I fear thee not, I +fear nothing. I am Alroy. + +‘Speak, oh speak! I do conjure thee, mighty spectre, speak. By all the +memory of the past, although ‘tis madness, I do conjure thee, let me +hear again the accents of my boyhood.’ + +‘_Alroy, Alroy, Alroy_!’ + +‘I listen, as to the last trump.’ + +‘_Meet me on the plain of Nehauend._’ + +‘‘Tis gone! As it spoke it vanished. It was Jabaster! God of my fathers, +it was Jabaster! Life is growing too wild. My courage is broken! I +could lie down and die. It was Jabaster! The voice sounds in my ear like +distant thunder: “_Meet me on the plain of Nehauend_.” I’ll not fail +thee, noble ghost, although I meet my doom. Jabaster! Have I seen +Jabaster! Indeed! indeed! Methinks I’m mad. Hah! What’s that?’ + +An awful clap of thunder broke over the palace, followed by a strange +clashing sound that seemed to come from one of the chambers. The walls +of the Serail rocked. + +‘An earthquake!’ exclaimed Alroy. ‘Would that the earth would open and +swallow all! Hah! Pharez, has it roused thee, too? Pharez, we live in +strange times.’ + +‘Your Highness is very pale.’ + +‘And so art thou, lad! Wouldst have me merry? Pale! we may well be pale, +didst thou know all. Hah! that awful sound again! I cannot bear it, +Pharez, I cannot bear it. I have borne many things, but this I cannot.’ + +‘My lord, ‘tis in the Armoury.’ + +‘Run, see. No, I’ll not be alone. Where’s Benaiah? Let him go. Stay with +me, Pharez, stay with me. I pray thee stay, my child.’ + +Pharez led the Caliph to a couch, on which Alroy lay pale and trembling. +In a few minutes he inquired whether Benaiah had returned. + +‘Even now he comes, Sire.’ + +‘Well, how is it?’ + +‘Sire! a most awful incident. As the thunder broke over the palace, the +sacred standard fell from its resting-place, and has shivered into a +thousand pieces. Strange to say, the sceptre of Solomon can neither be +found nor traced.’ + +‘Say nothing of the past, as ye love me, lads. Let none enter the +Armoury. Leave me, Benaiah, leave me, Pharez.’ + +They retired. Alroy watched their departure with a glance of +inexpressible anguish. The moment that they had disappeared, he flew to +the couch, and throwing himself upon his knees, and, covering his face +with his hands, burst into passionate tears, and exclaimed, ‘O! my God, +I have deserted thee, and now thou hast deserted me!’ + +Sleep crept over the senses of the exhausted and desperate Caliph. He +threw himself upon the divan, and was soon buried in profound repose. He +might have slept an hour; he awoke suddenly. From the cabinet in which +he slept, you entered a vast hall, through a lofty and spacious +arch, generally covered with drapery, which was now withdrawn. To the +astonishment of Alroy, this presence-chamber appeared at this moment +to blaze with light. He rose from his couch, he advanced; he perceived, +with feelings of curiosity and fear, that the hall was filled with +beings, terrible indeed to behold, but to his sight more terrible than +strange. In the colossal and mysterious forms that lined the walls +of the mighty chamber, and each of which held in its extended arm a +streaming torch, he recognised the awful Afrites. At the end of the +hall, upon a sumptuous throne, surrounded by priests and courtiers, +there was seated a monarch, on whom Alroy had before gazed, Solomon the +Great! Alroy beheld him in state and semblance the same Solomon, whose +sceptre the Prince of the Captivity had seized in the royal tombs of +Judah. + +The strange assembly seemed perfectly unconscious of the presence of the +child of Earth, who, with a desperate courage, leant against a column of +the arch, and watched, with wonder, their mute and motionless society. +Nothing was said, nothing done. No one moved, no one, even by gesture, +seemed sensible of the presence of any other apparition save himself. + +Suddenly there advanced from the bottom of the hall, near unto Alroy, +a procession. Pages and dancing girls, with eyes of fire and voluptuous +gestures, warriors with mighty arms, and venerable forms with ample +robes and flowing beards. And, as they passed, even with all the +activity of their gestures, they made no sound; neither did the +musicians, whereof there was a great band playing upon harps and +psalteries, and timbrels and cornets, break, in the slightest degree, +the almighty silence. + +This great crowd poured on in beautiful order, the procession never +terminating, yet passing thrice round the hall, bowing to him that was +upon the throne, and ranging themselves in ranks before the Afrites. + +And there came in twelve forms, bearing a great seal: the stone green, +and the engraven characters of living flame, and the characters were +those on the talisman of Jabaster, which Alroy still wore next to his +heart. And the twelve forms placed the great seal before Solomon, and +humbled themselves, and the King bowed. At the same moment Alroy was +sensible of a pang next to his heart. He instantly put his hand to the +suffering spot, and lo! the talisman crumbled into dust. + +The procession ceased; a single form advanced. Recent experience alone +prevented Alroy from sinking before the spectre of Jabaster. Such was +the single form. It advanced, bearing the sceptre. It advanced, it knelt +before the throne, it offered the sceptre to the crowned and solemn +vision. And the form of Solomon extended its arm, and took the sceptre, +and instantly the mighty assembly vanished! + +Alroy advanced immediately into the chamber, but all was dark and +silent. A trumpet sounded. He recognised the note of his own soldiery. +He groped his way to a curtain, and, pulling it aside, beheld the first +streak of dawn. + +Once more upon his charger, once more surrounded by his legions, once +more his senses dazzled and inflamed by the waving banners and the +inspiring trumpets, once more conscious of the power still at his +command, and the mighty stake for which he was about to play, Alroy in a +great degree recovered his usual spirit and self-possession. His energy +returned with his excited pulse, and the vastness of the impending +danger seemed only to stimulate the fertility of his genius. + +He pushed on by forced marches towards Media, at the head of fifty +thousand men. At the end of the second day’s march, fresh couriers +arrived from Abner, informing him that, unable to resist the valiant +and almost innumerable host of the King of Karasmé, he had entirely +evacuated Persia, and had concentrated his forces in Louristan. Alroy, +in consequence of this information, despatched orders to Scherirah, to +join him with his division instantly, and leave the capital to its fate. + +They passed again the mountains of Kerrund, and joined Abner and the +army of Media, thirty thousand strong, on the river Abzah. Here Alroy +rested one night, to refresh his men, and on the ensuing morn pushed on +to the Persian frontier, unexpectedly attacked the advanced posts of Alp +Arslan, and beat them back with great loss into the province. But the +force of the King of Karasmé was so considerable, that the Caliph did +not venture on a general engagement, and therefore he fell back, and +formed in battle array upon the neighbouring plain of Nehauend, the +theatre of one of his earliest and most brilliant victories, where he +awaited the hourly-expected arrival of Scherirah. + +The King of Karasmé, who was desirous of bringing affairs to an issue, +and felt confident in his superior force, instantly advanced. In two or +three days at farthest, it was evident that a battle must be fought that +would decide the fate of the East. + +On the morn ensuing their arrival at Nehauend, while the Caliph was out +hunting, attended only by a few officers, he was suddenly attacked by +an ambushed band of Karasmians. Alroy and his companions defended +themselves with such desperation that they at length succeeded in +beating off their assailants, although triple their number. The leader +of the Karasmians, as he retreated, hurled a dart at the Caliph, which +must have been fatal, had not a young officer of the guard interposed +his own breast, and received the deadly wound. The party, in confusion, +returned with all speed to the camp, Alroy himself bearing the expiring +victim of desperate loyalty and military enthusiasm. + +The bleeding officer was borne to the royal pavilion, and placed upon +the imperial couch. The most skilful leech was summoned; he examined the +wound, but shook his head. The dying warrior was himself sensible of his +desperate condition. His agony could only be alleviated by withdrawing +the javelin, which would occasion his immediate decease. He desired to +be left alone with his Sovereign. + +‘Sire!’ said the officer, ‘I must die; and I die without a pang. To die +in your service, I have ever considered the most glorious end. Destiny +has awarded it to me;, and if I have not met my fate upon the field +of battle, it is some consolation that my death has preserved the most +valuable of lives. Sire! I have a sister.’ + +‘Waste not thy strength, dear friend, in naming her. Rest assured I +shall ever deem thy relatives my own.’ + +‘I doubt it not. Would I had a thousand lives for such a master! I have +a burden on my conscience, Sire, nor can I die in peace unless I speak +of it.’ + +‘Speak, speak freely. If thou hast injured any one, and the power or +wealth of Alroy can redeem thy oppressed spirit, he will not spare, he +will not spare, be assured of that.’ + +‘Noble, noble master, I must be brief; for, although, while this javelin +rests within my body, I yet may live, the agony is great. Sire, the deed +of which I speak doth concern thee.’ + +‘Ay!’ + +‘I was on guard the day Jabaster died.’ + +‘Powers of heaven! I am all ear. Speak on, speak on!’ + +‘He died self-strangled, so they say?’ + +‘So they ever told me.’ + +‘Thou art innocent, thou art innocent! I thank my God, my King is +innocent!’ + +‘Rest assured of that, as there is hope in Israel. Tell me all.’ + +‘The Queen came with the signet ring. To such authority I yielded way. +She entered, and after her, the Lord Honain. I heard high words! I heard +Jabaster’s voice. He struggled, yes! he struggled; but his mighty form, +wounded and fettered, could not long resist. Foul play, foul play, Sire! +What could I do against such adversaries? They left the chamber with +a stealthy step. Her eyes met mine. I never could forget that fell and +glittering visage.’ + +‘Thou ne’er hast spoken of this awful end?’ + +‘To none but thee. And why I speak it now I cannot tell, save that it +seems some inspiration urges me; and methinks they who did this may do +even feller works, if such there be.’ + +‘Thou hast robbed me of all peace and hope of peace; and yet I thank +thee. Now I know the worth of life. I have never loved to think of that +sad day; and yet, though I have sometimes dreamed of villainous work, +the worst were innocence to thy dread tale.’ + +‘Tis told; and now I pray thee secure thy secret, by drawing from my +agonised frame this javelin.’ + +‘Trusty heart, ‘tis a sad office.’ + +‘I die with joy if thou performest it.’ + +‘‘Tis done.’ + +‘God save Alroy.’ + +While Alroy, plunged in thought, stood over the body of the officer, +there arose a flourish of triumphant music, and a eunuch, entering +the pavilion, announced the arrival of Schirene from Kerrund. Almost +immediately afterwards, the Princess descending from her litter, entered +the tent; Alroy tore off his robe, and threw it over the corpse. + +‘My own,’ exclaimed the Princess, as she ran up to the Caliph. ‘I have +heard all. Be not alarmed for me. I dare look upon a corpse. You know I +am a soldier’s bride. I am used to blood.’ + +‘Alas!’ + +‘Why so pale? Thou dost not kiss me! Has this unhinged thee so? ‘Tis a +sad deed; and yet tomorrow’s dawn may light up thousands to as grim a +fate. Why? thou tremblest! Alas! kind soul! The single death of this +fond, faithful heart hath quite upset my love. Yet art thou used to +battle. Why! this is foolishness. Art not glad to see me? What, not one +smile! And I have come to fight for thee! I will be kissed!’ + +She flung herself upon his neck. Alroy faintly returned her embrace, and +bore her to a couch. He clapped his hands, and two soldiers entered and +bore away the corpse. + +‘The pavilion, Schirene, is now fitter for thy presence. Rest thyself; I +shall soon return.’ Thus speaking, he quitted her. + +He quitted her; but her humbled look of sorrowful mortification pierced +to his heart. He thought of all her love and all her loveliness, he +called to mind all the marvellous story of their united fortunes. He +felt that for her and her alone he cared to live, that without her quick +sympathy, even success seemed unendurable. His judgment fluctuated in +an eddy of passion and reason. Passion conquered. He dismissed from his +intelligence all cognizance of good and evil; he determined, under all +circumstances, to cling ever to her; he tore from his mind all memory +of the late disclosure. He returned to the pavilion with a countenance +beaming with affection; he found her weeping, he folded her in his arms, +he kissed her with a thousand kisses, and whispered between each kiss +his ardent love. + +‘Twas midnight. Schirene reposed in the arms of Alroy. The Caliph, who +was restless and anxious for the arrival of Scherirah, was scarcely +slumbering when the sound of a voice thoroughly aroused him. He looked +around; he beheld the spectre of Jabaster. His hair stood on end, his +limbs seemed to loosen, a cold dew crept over his frame, as he gazed +upon the awful form within a yard of his couch. Unconsciously he +disembarrassed his arms of their fair burden, and, rising on the couch, +leant forward. + +‘_Alroy, Alroy, Alroy_!’ + +‘I am here.’ + +‘_To-morrow Israel is avenged!_’ + +‘Who is that?’ exclaimed the Princess, wakening. + +In a frenzy of fear, Alroy, quite forgetting the spectre, turned +and pressed his hand over her eyes. When he again looked round the +apparition was invisible. + +‘What wouldst thou, Alroy?’ + +‘Nothing, sweet! A soldier’s wife must bear strange sights, yet I would +save you some. One of my men, forgetful you were here, burst into my +tent in such a guise as scarce would suit a female eye. I must away, my +child. I’ll call thy slaves. One kiss! Farewell! but for a time.’ + +‘“To-morrow Israel will be avenged.” What! in Karasmian blood? I have +no faith. No matter. All is now beyond my influence. A rushing destiny +carries me onward. I cannot stem the course, nor guide the vessel. How +now! Who is the officer on guard?’ + +‘Benomi, Sire, thy servant.’ + +‘Send to the Viceroy. Bid him meet me here. Who is this?’ + +‘A courier from the Lord Scherirah, Sire, but just arrived. He passed +last night the Kerrund mountains, Sire, and will be with you by the +break of day.’ + +‘Good news. Go fetch Abner. Haste! He’ll find me here anon. I’ll visit +the camp awhile. Well, my brave fellows, you have hither come to conquer +again with Alroy. You have fought before, I warrant, on the plain of +Nehauend. ‘Tis a rich soil, and shall be richer with Karasmian gore.’ + +‘God save your Majesty! Our lives are thine.’ + +‘Please you, my little ruler,’ said a single soldier, addressing Alroy; +‘pardon my bluntness, but I knew you before you were a Caliph.’ + +‘Stout heart, I like thy freedom. Pr’ythee say on.’ + +‘I was a-saying, I hope you will lead us in the charge to-morrow. Some +say you will not.’ + +‘They say falsely.’ + +‘I thought so. I’ll ever answer for my little ruler, but then the +Queen?’ + +‘Is a true soldier’s wife, and lives in the camp.’ + +‘That’s brave! There, I told you so, comrades; you would not believe +me, but I knew our little ruler before you did. I lived near the gate at +Hamadan, please your Highness: old Shelomi’s son.’ + +‘Give me thy hand; a real friend. What is’t ye eat here, boys? Let me +taste your mess. I’faith I would my cook could dress me such a pilau! +Tis admirable!’ + +The soldiers gathered round their chieftain with eyes beaming with +adoration. ‘Twas a fine picture, the hero in the centre, the various +groups around, some conversing with him, some cooking, some making +coffee, all offering him by word or deed some testimonial of their +devotion, and blending with that devotion the most perfect frankness. + +‘We shall beat them, lads!’ + +‘There is no fear with you, you always conquer.’ + +‘I do my best, and so do you. A good general without good troops is +little worth.’ + +‘I’faith that’s true. One must have good troops. What think you of Alp +Arslan?’ + +‘I think he may give us as much trouble as all our other enemies +together, and that’s not much.’ + +‘Brave, brave! God save Alroy!’ + +Benomi approached, and announced that the Viceroy was in attendance. + +‘I must quit you, my children,’ said Alroy. ‘We’ll sup once more +together when we have conquered.’ + +‘God save you, Sire; and we will confound your enemies.’ + +‘Good night, my lads. Ere the dawn break we may have hot work.’ + +‘We are ready, we are ready. God save Alroy.’ + +‘They are in good cue, and yet ‘twas a different spirit that inspired +our early days. That I strongly feel. These are men true to a leader who +has never failed them, and confident in a cause that leads to plunder. +They are but splendid mercenaries. + +No more. Oh! where are now the fighting men of Judah! Where are the men +who, when they drew their scimitars, joined in a conquering psalm of +holy triumph! Last eve of battle you would have thought the field a +mighty synagogue. Priests and altars, flaming sacrifices, and smoking +censers, groups of fiery zealots hanging with frenzy on prophetic lips, +and sealing with their blood and holiest vows a solemn covenant to +conquer Canaan. All is changed, as I am. How now, Abner? You are well +muffled!’ + +‘Is it true Scherirah is at hand?’ + +‘I doubt not all is right. Would that the dawn would break!’ + +‘The enemy is advancing. Some of their columns are in sight. My scouts +have dodged them. They intend doubtless to form upon the plain.’ + +‘They are in sight, eh! Then we will attack them at once ere they +are formed. Rare, rare! We’ll beat them yet. Courage, dear brother. +Scherirah will be here at dawn in good time, very good time: very, very +good time.’ + +‘I like the thought’ + +‘The men are in good heart. At break of dawn, charge with thirty +thousand cavalry upon their forming ranks. I’ll take the right, Asriel +the left. It shall be a family affair, dear Abner. How is Miriam?’ + +‘I heard this morn, quite well. She sends you her love and prayers. The +Queen is here?’ + +‘She came this eve. Quite well.’ + +‘She must excuse all courtesy.’ + +‘Say nothing. She is a soldier’s wife. She loves thee well, dear Abner.’ + +‘I know that. I hope my sword may guard her children’s throne.’ + +‘Well, give thy orders. Instant battle, eh?’ + +‘Indeed I think so.’ + +‘I’ll send couriers to hurry Scherirah. All looks well. Reserve the +guard.’ + +‘Ay, ay! Farewell, dear Sire. When we meet again, I trust your enemies +may be your slaves!’ + +At the first streak of dawn the Hebrew cavalry, with the exception +of the Guard, charged the advancing columns of the Karasmians with +irresistible force, and cut them in pieces. Alp Arslan rallied his +troops, and at length succeeded in forming his main body in good order. +Alroy and Asriel led on their divisions, and the battle now became +general. It raged for several hours, and was on both sides well +maintained. The slaughter of the Karasmians was great, but their stern +character and superior numbers counterbalanced for a time all the +impetuosity of the Hebrews and all the energy of their leaders. This +day Alroy threw into the shade all his former exploits. Twelve times he +charged at the head of the Sacred Guard, and more than once penetrated +to the very pavilion of Alp Arslan. + +In vain he endeavoured singly, and hand to hand, to meet that famous +chieftain. Both monarchs fought in the ranks, and yet Fate decided +that their scimitars should never cross. Four hours before noon, it was +evident to Alroy, that, unless Scherirah arrived, he could not prevail +against the vast superiority of numbers. He was obliged early to call +his reserve into the field, and although the number of the slain on +the side of Arslan exceeded any in the former victories of the Hebrews, +still the Karasmians maintained an immense front, which was constantly +supplied by fresh troops. Confident in his numbers, and aware of the +weakness of his antagonists, Arslan contented himself with acting on the +defensive, and wearying his assailants by resisting their terrible and +repeated charge. + +For a moment, Alroy at the head of the Sacred Guard had withdrawn from +the combat. Abner and Asriel still maintained the fight, and the Caliph +was at the same time preparing for new efforts, and watching with +anxiety for the arrival of Scherirah. In the fifth hour, from an +eminence he marked with exultation the advancing banners of his +expected succours. Confident now that the day was won, he announced the +exhilarating intelligence to his soldiers; and, while they were excited +by the animating tidings, led them once more to the charge. It was +irresistible; Scherirah seemed to have arrived only for the pursuit, +only in time to complete the victory. What then was the horror, the +consternation of Alroy, when Benaiah, dashing up to him, informed +him that the long-expected succours consisted of the united forces of +Scherirah and Abidan, and had attacked him in the rear. Human genius +could afford no resource. The exhausted Hebrews, whose energies had been +tasked to the utmost, were surrounded. The Karasmians made a general and +simultaneous advance. In a few minutes the Hebrew army was thrown into +confusion. The stoutest warriors threw away their swords in despair. +Every one thought only of self-preservation. Even Abner fled towards +Hamadan. Asriel was slain. Alroy, finding it was all over, rushed to his +pavilion at the head of about three hundred of the guards, seized the +fainting Schirene, threw her before him on his saddle, and cutting his +way through all obstacles, dashed into the desert. + +For eight-and-forty hours they never stopped. Their band was soon +reduced one-third. On the morning of the third day they dismounted +and refreshed themselves at a well. Half only regained their saddles. +Schirene never spoke. On they rushed again, each hour losing some +exhausted co-mate. At length, on the fifth day, about eighty strong, +they arrived at a grove of palm-trees. Here they dismounted. And Alroy +took Schirene in his arms, and the shade seemed to revive her. She +opened her eyes, and pressed his hand and smiled. He gathered her some +dates, and she drank some water. + +‘Our toils will soon be over, sweetest,’ he whispered to her; ‘I have +lost everything but thee.’ + +Again they mounted, and, proceeding at a less rapid pace, they arrived +towards evening at the ruined city, whither Alroy all this time had +been directing his course. Dashing down the great street, they at length +entered the old amphitheatre. They dismounted. Alroy made a couch with +their united cloaks for Schirene. Some collected fuel, great store +of which was found, and kindled large fires. Others, while it was yet +light, chased the gazelles, and were sufficiently fortunate to provide +their banquet, or fetched water from the well known to their leader. +In an hour’s time, clustering round their fires in groups, and sharing +their rude fare, you might have deemed them, instead of the discomfited +and luxurious guards of a mighty monarch, the accustomed tenants of this +wild abode. + +‘Come, my lads,’ said Alroy, as he rubbed his hands over the ascending +flame, ‘at any rate, this is better than the desert.’ + +After all his exertions, Alroy fell into profound and dreamless sleep. +When he awoke, the sun had been long up. Schirene was still slumbering. +He embraced her, and she opened her eyes and smiled. + +‘You are now a bandit’s bride,’ he said. ‘How like you our new life?’ + +‘Well! with thee.’ + +‘Rest here, my sweetest: I must rouse our men, and see how fortune +speeds.’ So saying, and tripping lightly over many a sleeping form, he +touched Benaiah. + +‘So! my brave captain of the guard, still napping! Come! stir, stir.’ + +Benaiah jumped up with a cheerful face. ‘I am ever ready, Sire.’ + +‘I know it; but remember I am no more a king, only a co-mate. Away with +me, and let us form some order.’ + +The companions quitted the amphitheatre and reconnoitred the adjoining +buildings. They found many stores, the remains of old days, mats, tents, +and fuel, drinking-bowls, and other homely furniture. They fixed upon +a building for their stable, and others for the accommodation of their +band. They summoned their companions to the open place, the scene of +Hassan Subah’s fate, where Alroy addressed them and explained to them +his plans. They were divided into companies; each man had his allotted +duty. Some were placed on guard at different parts; some were sent out +to the chase, or to collect dates from the Oasis; others led the horses +to the contiguous pasture, or remained to attend to their domestic +arrangements. The amphitheatre was cleared out. A rude but convenient +pavilion was formed for Schirene. They covered its ground with +mats, and each emulated the other in his endeavours to study her +accommodation. Her kind words and inspiring smiles animated at the same +time their zeal and their invention. + +They soon became accustomed to their rough but adventurous life. Its +novelty pleased them, and the perpetual excitement of urgent necessity +left them no time to mourn over their terrible vicissitudes. While Alroy +lived, hope indeed never deserted their sanguine bosoms. And such was +the influence of his genius, that the most desponding felt that to be +discomfited with him, was preferable to conquest with another. They were +a faithful and devoted band, and merry faces were not wanting when at +night they assembled in the amphitheatre for their common meal. + +No sooner had Alroy completed his arrangements than he sent forth +spies in all directions to procure intelligence, and especially to +communicate, if possible, with Ithamar and Medad, provided that they +still survived and maintained themselves in any force. + +A fortnight passed away without the approach of any stranger; at the end +of which, there arrived four personages at their haunt, not very welcome +to their chief, who, however, concealed his chagrin at their appearance. +These were Kisloch the Kourd, and Calidas the Indian, and their +inseparable companions, the Guebre and the Negro. + +‘Noble Captain,’ said Kisloch, ‘we trust that you will permit us to +enlist in the band. This is not the first time we have served under your +orders in this spot. Old co-mates, i’faith, who have seen the best and +the worst. We suspected where you might be found, although, thanks to +the ever felicitous invention of man, it is generally received that you +died in battle. I hope your Majesty is well,’ added Kisloch, bowing to +Schirene. + +‘You are welcome, friends,’ replied Alroy; ‘I know your worth. You have +seen, as you say, the best and the worst, and will, I trust, see better. +Died in battle, eh! that’s good.’ + +‘‘Tis so received,’ said Calidas. + +‘And what news of our friends?’ + +‘Not over good, but strange.’ + +‘How so?’ + +‘Hamadan is taken.’ + +‘I am prepared; tell me all.’ + +‘Old Bostenay and the Lady Miriam are borne prisoners to Bagdad.’ + +‘Prisoners?’ + +‘But so; all will be well with them, I trow. The Lord Honain is in high +favour with the conqueror, and will doubtless protect them.’ + +‘Honain in favour?’ + +‘Even so. He made terms for the city, and right good ones.’ + +‘Hah! he was ever dexterous. Well! if he save my sister, I care not for +his favour.’ + +‘There is no doubt. All may yet be well, Sir.’ + +‘Let us act, not hope. Where’s Abner?’ + +‘Dead.’ + +‘How?’ + +‘In battle.’ + +‘Art sure?’ + +‘I saw him fall, and fought beside him.’ + +‘A soldier’s death is all our fortune now. I am glad he was not +captured. Where’s Medad, Ithamar?’ + +‘Fled into Egypt.’ + +‘We have no force whatever, then?’ + +‘None but your guards here.’ + +‘They are strong enough to plunder a caravan. Honain, you say, in +favour?’ + +‘Very high. He’ll make good terms for us.’ + +‘This is strange news.’ + +‘Very, but true.’ + +‘Well! you are welcome! Share our fare; ‘tis rough, and somewhat scanty; +but we have feasted, and may feast again. Fled into Egypt, eh?’ + +‘Ay! Sir.’ + +‘Schirene, shouldst like to see the Nile?’ + +‘I have heard of crocodiles.’ + +If the presence of Kisloch and his companions were not very pleasing +to Alroy, with the rest of the band they soon became great favourites. +Their local knowledge, and their experience of desert life, made them +valuable allies, and their boisterous jocularity and unceasing merriment +were not unwelcome in the present monotonous existence of the fugitives. +As for Alroy himself, he meditated an escape to Egypt. He determined +to seize the first opportunity of procuring some camels, and then, +dispersing his band, with the exception of Benaiah and a few faithful +retainers, he trusted that, disguised as merchants, they might succeed +in crossing Syria, and entering Africa by Palestine. With these plans +and prospects, he became each day more cheerful and more sanguine as +to the future. He had in his possession some valuable jewels, which he +calculated upon disposing of at Cairo for a sum sufficient for all his +purposes; and having exhausted all the passions of life while yet a +youth, he looked forward to the tranquil termination of his existence in +some poetic solitude with his beautiful companion. + +One evening, as they returned from the Oasis, Alroy guiding the camel +that bore Schirene, and ever and anon looking up in her inspiring face, +her sanguine spirit would have indulged in a delightful future. + +‘Thus shall we pass the desert, sweet,’ said Schirene. ‘Can this be +toil?’ + +‘There is no toil with love,’ replied Alroy. + +‘And we were made for love, and not for empire,’ rejoined Schirene. + +‘The past is a dream,’ said Alroy. ‘So sages teach us; but, until we +act, their wisdom is but wind. I feel it now. Have we ever lived in +aught but deserts, and fed on aught but dates? Methinks ‘tis very +natural. But that I am tempted by the security of distant lands, I could +remain here a free and happy outlaw. Time, custom, and necessity form +our natures. When I first met Scherirah in these ruins, I shrank with +horror from degraded man; and now I sigh to be his heir. We must not +think!’ + +‘No, love, we’ll only hope,’ replied Schirene; and they passed through +the gates. + +The night was beautiful, the air was still warm and sweet. Schirene +gazed upon the luminous heavens. ‘We thought not of these skies when +we were at Bagdad,’ she exclaimed; ‘and yet, my life, what was the +brightness of our palaces compared to these? All is left to us that man +should covet, freedom, beauty, and youth. I do believe, ere long, Alroy, +we shall look back upon the wondrous past as on another and a lower +world. Would that this were Egypt! Tis my only wish.’ + +‘And it shall soon be gratified. All will soon be arranged. A few brief +days, and then Schirene will mount her camel for a longer ride than just +to gather dates. You’ll make a sorry traveller, I fear!’ + +‘Not I; I’ll tire you all.’ + +They reached the circus, and seated themselves round the blazing fire. +Seldom had Alroy, since his fall, appeared more cheerful. Schirene sang +an Arab air to the band, who joined in joyous chorus. It was late +ere they sought repose; and they retired to their rest, sanguine and +contented. + +A few hours afterwards, at the break of dawn, Alroy was roused from +his slumbers by a rude pressure on his breast. He started; a ferocious +soldier was kneeling over him; he would have spurned him; he found his +hand manacled. He would have risen; his feet were bound. He looked round +for Schirene, and called her name; he was answered only by a shriek. +The amphitheatre was filled with Karasmian troops. His own men were +surprised and overpowered. Kisloch and the Guebre had been on guard. He +was raised from the ground, and flung upon a camel, which was instantly +trotted out of the circus. On every side he beheld a wild scene of +disorder and dismay. He was speechless from passion and despair. +The camel was dragged into the desert. A body of cavalry instantly +surrounded it, and they set off at a rapid pace. The whole seemed the +work of an instant. + +How many days had passed Alroy knew not. He had taken no account of +time. Night and day were to him the same. He was in a stupor. But the +sweetness of the air and the greenness of the earth at length partially +roused his attention. He was just conscious that they had quitted the +desert. Before him was a noble river; he beheld the Euphrates from +the very spot he had first viewed it in his pilgrimage. The strong +association of ideas called back his memory. A tear stole down his +cheek; the bitter drop stole to his parched lips; he asked the nearest +horseman for water. The guard gave him a wetted sponge, with which he +contrived with difficulty to wipe his lips, and then he let it fall to +the ground. The Karasmian struck him. + +They arrived at the river. The prisoner was taken from the camel and +placed in a covered boat. After some hours they stopped and disembarked +at a small village. Alroy was placed upon an ass with his back to its +head. His clothes were soiled and tattered. The children pelted him with +mud. An old woman, with a fanatic curse, placed a crown of paper on +his brow. With difficulty his brutal guards prevented their victim +from being torn to pieces. And in such fashion, towards noon of the +fourteenth day, David Alroy again entered Bagdad. + +The intelligence of the capture of Alroy spread through the agitated +city. The Moolahs bustled about as if they had received a fresh +demonstration of the authenticity of the prophetic mission. All the +Dervishes began begging. The men discussed affairs in the coffee-houses, +and the women chatted at the fountains.[79] + +‘They may say what they like, but I wish him well,’ said a fair Arab, +as she arranged her veil. ‘He may be an impostor, but he was a very +handsome one.’ + +‘All the women are for him, that’s the truth,’ responded a companion; +‘but then we can do him no good.’ + +‘We can tear their eyes out,’ said a third. + +‘And what do you think of Alp Arslan, truly?’ inquired a fourth. + +‘I wish he were a pitcher, and then I could break his neck,’ said a +fifth. + +‘Only think of the Princess!’ said a sixth. + +‘Well! she has had a glorious time of it,’ said a seventh. + +‘Nothing was too good for her,’ said an eighth. + +‘I like true love,’ said a ninth. + +‘Well! I hope he will be too much for them all yet,’ said a tenth. + +‘I should not wonder,’ said an eleventh. + +‘He can’t,’ said a twelfth, ‘he has lost his sceptre.’ + +‘You don’t say so?’ said a thirteenth. + +‘It is too true,’ said a fourteenth. + +‘Do you think he was a wizard?’ said a fifteenth. ‘I vow, if there be +not a fellow looking at us behind those trees.’ + +‘Impudent scoundrel!’ said a sixteenth. ‘I wish it were Alroy. Let us +all scream, and put down our veils.’ + +And the group ran away. + +Two stout soldiers were playing chess[80] in a coffee-house. + +‘May I slay my mother,’ said one, ‘but I cannot make a move. I fought +under him at Nehauend; and though I took the amnesty, I have half a mind +now to seize my sword and stab the first Turk that enters.’ + +‘‘Twere but sheer justice,’ said his companion. ‘By my father’s +blessing, he was the man for a charge. They may say what they like, but +compared with him, Alp Arslan is a white-livered Giaour.’ + +‘Here is confusion to him and to thy last move. There’s the dirhem, I +can play no more. May I slay my mother, though, but I did not think he +would let himself be taken.’ + +‘By the blessing of my father, nor I; but then he was asleep.’ + +‘That makes a difference. He was betrayed.’ + +‘All brave men are. They say Kisloch and his set pocket their fifty +thousand by the job.’ + +‘May each dirhem prove a plague-spot!’ + +‘Amen! Dost remember Abner?’ + +‘May I slay my mother if I ever forget him. He spoke to his men like so +many lambs. What has become of the Lady Miriam?’ + +‘She is here.’ + +‘That will cut Alroy.’ + +‘He was ever fond of her. Dost remember she gained Adoram’s life?’ + +‘Oh! she could do anything next to the Queen.’ + +‘Before her, I say, before her. He has refused the Queen, he never +refused the Lady Miriam.’ + +‘Because she asked less.’ + +‘Dost know it seemed to me that things never went on so well after +Jabaster’s death?’ + +‘So say I. There was a something, eh?’ + +‘A sort of a peculiar, as it were, kind of something, eh?’ + +‘You have well described it. Every man felt the same. I have often +mentioned it to my comrades. Say what you like, said I, but slay my +mother if ever since the old man strangled himself, things did not seem, +as it were, in their natural propinquity. ‘Twas the phrase I used.’ + +‘A choice one. Unless there is a natural propinquity, the best-arranged +matters will fall out. However, the ass sees farther than his rider, and +so it was with Alroy, the best commander I ever served under, all the +same.’ + +‘Let us go forth and see how affairs run.’ + +‘Ay, do. If we hear any one abuse Alroy, we’ll cleave his skull.’ + +‘That will we. There are a good many of our stout fellows about; we +might do something yet.’ + +‘Who knows?’ + +A subterranean dungeon of the citadel of Bagdad held in its gloomy +limits the late lord of Asia. The captive did not sigh, or weep, or +wail. He did not speak. He did not even think. For several days he +remained in a state of stupor. On the morning of the fourth day, he +almost unconsciously partook of the wretched provision which his gaolers +brought him. Their torches, round which the bats whirled and flapped +their wings, and twinkled their small eyes, threw a ghastly glare over +the nearer walls of the dungeon, the extremity of which defied the +vision of the prisoner; and, when the gaolers retired, Alroy was in +complete darkness. + +The image of the past came back to him. He tried in vain to penetrate +the surrounding gloom. His hands were manacled, his legs also were +loaded with chains. The notion that his life might perhaps have been +cruelly spared in order that he might linger on in this horrible state +of conscious annihilation filled him with frenzy. He would have dashed +his fetters against his brow, but the chain restrained him. He flung +himself upon the damp and rugged ground. His fall disturbed a thousand +obscene things. He heard the quick glide of a serpent, the creeping +retreat of the clustering scorpions, and the swift escape of the dashing +rats. His mighty calamities seemed slight when compared with these petty +miseries. His great soul could not support him under these noisome and +degrading incidents. He sprang, in disgust, upon his feet, and stood +fearful of moving, lest every step should introduce him to some new +abomination. At length, exhausted nature was unable any longer to +sustain him. He groped his way to the rude seat, cut in the rocky wall, +which was his only accommodation. He put forth his hand. It touched the +slimy fur of some wild animal, that instantly sprang away, its +fiery eyes sparkling in the dark. Alroy recoiled with a sensation of +woe-begone dismay. His shaken nerves could not sustain him under this +base danger, and these foul and novel trials. He could not refrain from +an exclamation of despair; and, when he remembered that he was now far +beyond the reach of all human solace and sympathy, even all human aid, +for a moment his mind seemed to desert him; and he wrung his hands in +forlorn and almost idiotic woe. An awful thing it is, the failure of +the energies of a master-mind. He who places implicit confidence in his +genius will find himself some day utterly defeated and deserted. ‘Tis +bitter! Every paltry hind seems but to breathe to mock you. Slow, +indeed, is such a mind to credit that the never-failing resource can at +least be wanting. But so it is. Like a dried-up fountain, the perennial +flow and bright fertility have ceased, and ceased for ever. Then comes +the madness of retrospection. + +Draw a curtain! draw a curtain! and fling it over this agonising +anatomy. + +The days of childhood, his sweet sister’s voice and smiling love, their +innocent pastimes, and the kind solicitude of faithful servants, all the +soft detail of mild domestic life: these were the sights and memories +that flitted in wild play before the burning vision of Alroy, and +rose upon his tortured mind. Empire and glory, his sacred nation, his +imperial bride; these, these were nothing. Their worth had vanished with +the creative soul that called them into action. The pure sympathies +of nature alone remained, and all his thought and grief, all his +intelligence, all his emotion, were centred in his sister. + +It was the seventh morning. A guard entered at an unaccustomed hour, +and, sticking a torch into a niche in the wall, announced that a person +was without who had permission to speak to the prisoner. They were the +first human accents that had met the ear of Alroy during his captivity, +which seemed to him an age, a long dark period, that cancelled all +things. He shuddered at the harsh tones. He tried to answer, but his +unaccustomed lips refused their office. He raised his heavy arms, and +endeavoured to signify his consciousness of what had been uttered. Yet, +indeed, he had not listened to the message without emotion. He looked +forward to the grate with strange curiosity; and, as he looked, he +trembled. The visitor entered, muffled in a dark caftan. The guard +disappeared; and the caftan falling to the ground, revealed Honain. + +‘My beloved Alroy,’ said the brother of Jabaster; and he advanced, and +pressed him to his bosom. Had it been Miriam, Alroy might have at +once expired; but the presence of this worldly man called back his +worldliness. The revulsion of his feelings was wonderful. Pride, perhaps +even hope, came to his aid; all the associations seemed to counsel +exertion; for a moment he seemed the same Alroy. + +‘I rejoice to find at least thee safe, Honain.’ + +‘I also, if my security may lead to thine.’ + +‘Still whispering hope!’ + +‘Despair is the conclusion of fools.’ + +‘O Honain! ‘tis a great trial. I can play my part, and yet methinks +‘twere better we had not again met. How is Schirene?’ + +‘Thinking of thee.’ + +‘Tis something that she can think. My mind has gone. Where’s Miriam?’ + +‘Free.’ + +‘That’s something. Thou hast done that. Good, good Honain, be kind to +that sweet child, if only for my sake. Thou art all she has left.’ + +‘She hath thee.’ + +‘Her desolation.’ + +‘Live and be her refuge.’ + +‘How’s that? These walls! Escape? No, no; it is impossible.’ + +‘I do not deem it so.’ + +‘Indeed! I’ll do anything. Speak! Can we bribe? can we cleave their +skulls? can we----’ + +‘Calm thyself, my friend. There is no need of bribes, no need of +bloodshed. We must make terms.’ + +‘Terms! We might have made them on the plain of Nehauend. Terms! Terms +with a captive victim?’ + +‘Why victim?’ + +‘Is Arslan then so generous?’ + +‘He is a beast, more savage than the boar that grinds its tusks within +his country’s forests.’ + +‘Why speakest thou then of hope?’ + +‘I spoke of certainty. I did not mention hope.’ + +‘Dear Honain, my brain is weak; but I can bear strange things, or else +I should not be here. I feel thy thoughtful friendship; but indeed there +need no winding words to tell my fate. Pr’ythee speak out.’ + +‘In a word, thy life is safe.’ + +‘What! spared?’ + +‘If it please thee.’ + +‘Please me? Life is sweet. I feel its sweetness. I want but little. +Freedom and solitude are all I ask. My life spared! I’ll not believe +it. Thou hast done this deed, thou mighty man, that masterest all souls. +Thou hast not forgotten me; thou hast not forgotten the days gone by, +thou hast not forgotten thine own Alroy! Who calls thee worldly is a +slanderer. O Honain! thou art too faithful!’ + +‘I have no thought but for thy service, Prince.’ + +‘Call me not Prince, call me thine own Alroy. My life spared! ‘Tis +wonderful! When may I go? Let no one see me. Manage that, Honain. Thou +canst manage all things. I am for Egypt. Thou hast been to Egypt, hast +thou not, Honain?’ + +‘A very wondrous land, ‘twill please thee much.’ + +‘When may I go? Tell me when I may go. When may I quit this dark and +noisome cell? ‘Tis worse than all their tortures, dear Honain. Air and +light, and I really think my spirit never would break, but this +horrible dungeon---- I scarce can look upon thy face, sweet friend. ‘Tis +serious.’ + +‘Wouldst thou have me gay?’ + +‘Yes! if we are free.’ + +‘Alroy! thou art a great spirit, the greatest that I e’er knew, have +ever read of. I never knew thy like, and never shall.’ + +‘Tush, tush, sweet friend, I am a broken reed, but still I am free. This +is no time for courtly phrases. Let’s go, and go at once.’ + +‘A moment, dear Alroy. I am no flatterer. What I said came from my +heart, and doth concern us much and instantly. I was saying thou hast no +common mind, Alroy; indeed thou hast a mind unlike all others. Listen, +my Prince. Thou hast read mankind deeply and truly. Few have seen more +than thyself, and none have so rare a spring of that intuitive knowledge +of thy race, which is a gem to which experience is but a jeweller, and +without which no action can befriend us.’ + +‘Well, well!’ + +‘A moment’s calmness. Thou hast entered Bagdad in triumph, and thou hast +entered the same city with every contumely which the base spirit of our +race could cast upon its victim. ‘Twas a great lesson.’ + +‘I feel it so.’ + +‘And teaches us how vile and valueless is the opinion of our +fellow-men.’ + +‘Alas! ‘tis true.’ + +‘I am glad to see thee in this wholesome temper. ‘Tis full of wisdom.’ + +‘The miserable are often wise.’ + +‘But to believe is nothing unless we act. Speculation should only +sharpen practice. The time hath come to prove thy lusty faith in this +philosophy. I told thee we could make terms. I have made them. To-morrow +it was doomed Alroy should die--and what a death! A death of infinite +torture! Hast ever seen a man impaled?’[81] + +‘Hah!’ + +‘To view it is alone a doom.’ + +‘God of Heaven!’ + +‘It is so horrible, that ‘tis ever marked, that when this direful +ceremony occurs, the average deaths in cities greatly increase. ‘Tis +from the turning of the blood in the spectators, who yet from some +ungovernable madness cannot refrain from hurrying to the scene. I speak +with some authority. I speak as a physician.’ + +‘Speak no more, I cannot endure it.’ + +‘To-morrow this doom awaited thee. As for Schirene----’ + +‘Not for her, oh! surely not for her?’ + +‘No, they were merciful. She is a Caliph’s daughter. ‘Tis not forgotten. +The axe would close her life. Her fair neck would give slight trouble to +the headsman’s art. But for thy sister, but for Miriam, she is a witch, +a Jewish witch! They would have burnt her alive!’ + +‘I’ll not believe it, no, no, I’ll not believe it: damnable, bloody +demons! When I had power I spared all, all but----ah, me! ah, me! why +did I live?’ + +‘Thou dost forget thyself; I speak of that which was to have been, +not of that which is to be. I have stepped in and communed with the +conqueror. I have made terms.’ + +‘What are they, what can they be?’ + +‘Easy. To a philosopher like Alroy an idle ceremony.’ + +‘Be brief, be brief.’ + +‘Thou seest thy career is a great scandal to the Moslemin. I mark their +weakness, and I have worked upon it. Thy mere defeat or death will not +blot out the stain upon their standard and their faith. The public mind +is wild with fantasies since Alroy rose. Men’s opinions flit to and fro +with that fearful change that bodes no stable settlement of states. +None know what to cling to, or where to place their trust. Creeds are +doubted, authority disputed. They would gladly account for thy success +by other than human means, yet must deny thy mission. There also is the +fame of a fair and mighty Princess, a daughter of their Caliphs, which +they would gladly clear. I mark all this, observe and work upon it. So, +could we devise some means by which thy lingering followers could be for +ever silenced, this great scandal fairly erased, and the public frame +brought to a sounder and more tranquil pulse, why, they would concede +much, much, very much.’ + +‘Thy meaning, not thy means, are evident.’ + +‘They are in thy power.’ + +‘In mine? ‘Tis a deep riddle. Pr’ythee solve it.’ + +‘Thou wilt be summoned at to-morrow’s noon before this Arslan. There +in the presence of the assembled people who are now with him as much as +they were with thee, thou wilt be accused of magic, and of intercourse +with the infernal powers. Plead guilty.’ + +‘Well! is there more?’ + +‘Some trifle. They will then examine thee about the Princess. It is +not difficult to confess that Alroy won the Caliph’s daughter by an +irresistible spell, and now ‘tis broken.’ + +‘So, so. Is that all?’ + +‘The chief. Thou canst then address some phrases to the Hebrew +prisoners, denying thy Divine mission, and so forth, to settle the +public mind, observe, upon this point for ever.’ + +‘Ay, ay, and then----?’ + +‘No more, except for form. (Upon the completion of the conditions, +mind, you will be conveyed to what land you please, with such amount of +treasure as you choose.) There is no more, except, I say, for form, I +would, if I were you [‘twill be expected), I would just publicly affect +to renounce our faith, and bow before their Prophet.’ + +‘Hah! Art thou there? Is this thy freedom? Get thee behind me, tempter! +Never, never, never! Not a jot, not a jot: I’ll not yield a jot. Were +my doom one everlasting torture, I’d spurn thy terms! Is this thy high +contempt of our poor kind, to outrage my God! to prove myself the vilest +of the vile, and baser than the basest? Rare philosophy! O Honain! would +we had never met!’ + +‘Or never parted. True. Had my word been taken, Alroy would ne’er have +been betrayed.’ + +‘No more; I pray thee, sir, no more. Leave me.’ + +‘Were this a palace, I would. Harsh words are softened by a friendly +ear, when spoken in affliction.’ + +‘Say what they will, I am the Lord’s anointed. As such I should have +lived, as such at least I’ll die.’ + +‘And Miriam?’ + +‘The Lord will not desert her: she ne’er deserted Him.’ + +‘Schirene?’ + +‘Schirene! why! for her sake alone I will die a hero. Shall it be said +she loved a craven slave, a base impostor, a vile renegade, a villainous +dealer in drugs and charms? Oh! no, no, no! if only for her sake, her +sweet, sweet sake, my end shall be like my great life. As the sun I +rose, like him I set. Still the world is warm with my bright fame, and +my last hour shall not disgrace my noon, stormy indeed, but glorious!’ + +Honain took the torch from the niche, and advanced to the grate. It +was not fastened: he drew it gently open, and led forward a veiled and +female figure. The veiled and female figure threw herself at the feet of +Alroy, who seemed lost to what was passing. A soft lip pressed his hand. +He started, his chains clanked. + +‘Alroy!’ softly murmured the kneeling female. + +‘What voice is that?’ wildly exclaimed the Prince of the Captivity. ‘It +falls upon my ear like long-forgotten music. I’ll not believe it. No! +I’ll not believe it. Art thou Schirene?’ + +‘I am that wretched thing they called thy bride.’ + +‘Oh! this indeed is torture! What impalement can equal this sharp +moment? Look not on me, let not our eyes meet! They have met before, +like to the confluence of two shining rivers blending in one great +stream of rushing light. Bear off that torch, sir. Let impenetrable +darkness cover our darker fortunes.’ + +‘Alroy.’ + +‘She speaks again. Is she mad, as I am, that thus she plays with agony?’ + +‘Sire,’ said Honain advancing, and laying his hand gently on the arm of +the captive, ‘I pray thee moderate this passion. Thou hast some faithful +friends here, who would fain commune in calmness for thy lasting +welfare.’ + +‘Welfare! He mocks me.’ + +‘I beseech, thee, Sire, be calm. If, indeed, I speak unto that great +Alroy whom all men fear and still may fear, I pray remember, ‘tis not +in palaces or in the battle-field alone that the heroic soul can conquer +and command. Scenes like these are the great proof of a superior soul. +While we live, our body is a temple where our genius pours forth its +godlike inspiration, and while the altar is not overthrown, the deity +may still work marvels. Then rouse thyself, great Sire; bethink thee +that, a Caliph or a captive, there is no man within this breathing world +like to Alroy. Shall such a being fall without a struggle, like some +poor felon, who has naught to trust to but the dull shuffling accident +of Chance? I, too, am a prophet, and I feel thou still wilt conquer.’ + +‘Give me my sceptre, then, give me the sceptre! I speak to the wrong +brother! It was not thou, it was not thou that gavest it me.’ + +‘Gain it once more. The Lord deserted David for a time; still he +pardoned him, and still he died a king.’ + +‘A woman worked his fall.’ + +‘But thee a woman raises. This great Princess, has she not suffered too? +Yet her spirit is still unbroken. List to her counsel: it is deep and +fond.’ + +‘So was our love.’ + +‘And is, my Alroy!’ exclaimed the Princess. ‘Be calm, I pray thee! For +my sake be calm; I am calm for thine. Thou hast listened to all Honain +has told thee, that wise man, my Alroy, who never erred. + +‘Tis but a word he counsels, an empty word, a most unmeaning form. But +speak it, and thou art free, and Alroy and Schirene may blend again +their glorious careers and lives of sweet fruition. Dost thou not +remember when, walking in the garden of our joy, and palled with empire, +how often hast thou sighed for some sweet isle unknown to man, where +thou mightst pass thy days with no companion but my faithful self, and +no adventures but our constant loves? O my beloved, that life may still +be thine! And dost thou falter? Dost call thyself forlorn with such +fidelity, and deem thyself a wretch, when Paradise with all its +beauteous gates but woos thy entrance? Oh! no, no, no, no! thou hast +forgot Schirene: I fear me much, thy over-fond Schirene, who doats upon +thy image in thy chains more than she did when those sweet hands of +thine were bound with gems and played with her bright locks!’ + +‘She speaks of another world. I do remember something. Who has sent this +music to a dungeon? My spirit softens with her melting words. My +eyes are moist. I weep! ‘Tis pleasant. Sorrow is joy compared with my +despair. I never thought to shed a tear again. My brain is cooler.’ + +‘Weep, weep, I pray thee weep; but let me kiss away thy tears, my soul! +Didst think thy Schirene had deserted thee? Ah! that was it that made +my bird so sad. It shall be free, and fly in a sweet sky, and feed on +flowers with its faithful mate. Ah me! I am once more happy with my boy. +There was no misery but thy absence, sweet! Methinks this dungeon is our +bright kiosk! Is that the sunbeam, or thy smile, my love, that makes the +walls so joyful?’ + +‘Did I smile? I’ll not believe it.’ + +‘Indeed you did. Ah! see he smiles again. Why this is freedom! There is +no such thing as sorrow. Tis a lie to frighten fools!’ + +‘Why, Honain, what’s this? ‘Twould seem I am really joyful. There’s +inspiration in her very breath. I am another being. Nay! waste not +kisses on those ugly fetters.’ + +‘Methinks they are gold.’ + +They were silent. Schirene drew Alroy to his rough seat, and gently +placing herself on his knees, threw her arms round his neck, and buried +her face in his breast. After a few minutes she raised her head, and +whispered in his ear in irresistible accents of sweet exultation, ‘We +shall be free to-morrow!’ + +‘To-morrow! is the trial so near?’ exclaimed the captive, with an +agitated voice and changing countenance. ‘To-morrow!’ He threw Schirene +aside somewhat hastily, and sprang from his seat. ‘To-morrow! would it +were over! To-morrow! Methinks there is within that single word the fate +of ages! Shall it be said to-morrow that Alroy---- Hah! what art thou +that risest now before me? Dread, mighty spirit, thou hast come in time +to save me from perdition. Take me to thy bosom, ‘tis not stabbed. They +did not stab thee. Thou seest me here communing with thy murderers. What +then? I am innocent. Ask them, dread ghost, and call upon their fiendish +souls to say I am pure. They would make me dark as themselves, but shall +not.’ + +‘Honain, Honain!’ exclaimed the Princess in a terrible whisper as she +flew to the Physician. ‘He is wild again. Calm him, calm him. Mark! how +he stands with his extended arms, and fixed vacant eyes, muttering most +awful words! My spirit fails me. It is too fearful.’ + +The Physician advanced and stood by the side of Alroy, but in vain +attempted to catch his attention. He ventured to touch his arm. The +Prince started, turned round, and recognising him, exclaimed in a +shrieking voice, ‘Off, fratricide!’ + +Honain recoiled, pale and quivering. Schirene sprang to his arm. ‘What +said he, Honain? Thou dost not speak. I never saw thee pale before. Art +thou, too, mad?’ + +‘Would I were!’ + +‘All men are growing wild. I am sure he said something. I pray thee tell +me what was it?’ + +‘Ask him.’ + +‘I dare not. Tell me, tell me, Honain!’ + +‘That I dare not.’ + +‘Was it a word?’ + +‘Ay! a word to wake the dead. Let us begone.’ + +‘Without our end? Coward! I’ll speak to him. My own Alroy,’ sweetly +whispered the Princess, as she advanced before him. + +‘What, has the fox left the tigress! Is’t so, eh? Are there no +judgments? Are the innocent only haunted? I am innocent! I did not +strangle thee! He said rightly, “Beware, beware! they who did this may +do even feller deeds.” And here they are quick at their damned work. +Thy body suffered, great Jabaster, but me they would strangle body and +soul!’ + +The Princess shrieked, and fell into the arms of the advancing Honain, +who bore her out of the dungeon. + +After the fall of Hamadan, Bostenay and Miriam had been carried +prisoners to Bagdad. Through the interference of Honain, their +imprisonment had been exempted from the usual hardships, but they +were still confined to their chambers in the citadel. Hitherto all the +endeavours of Miriam to visit her brother had been fruitless. Honain +was the only person to whom she could apply for assistance, and he, in +answer to her importunities, only regretted his want of power to aid +her. In vain had she attempted, by the offer of some remaining jewels, +to secure the co-operation of her guards, with whom her loveliness and +the softness of her manners had already ingratiated her. She had not +succeeded even in communicating with Alroy. But after the unsuccessful +mission of Honain to the dungeon, the late Vizier visited the sister of +the captive, and, breaking to her with delicate skill the intelligence +of the impending catastrophe, he announced that he had at length +succeeded in obtaining for her the desired permission to visit her +brother; and, while she shuddered at the proximity of an event for +which she had long attempted to prepare herself, Honain, with some +modifications, whispered the means by which he flattered himself that it +might yet be averted. Miriam listened to him in silence, nor could +he, with all his consummate art, succeed in extracting from her the +slightest indication of her own opinion as to their expediency. They +parted, Honain as sanguine as the wicked ever are. + +As Miriam dreaded, both for herself and for Alroy, the shock of an +unexpected meeting, she availed herself of the influence of Honain +to send Caleb to her brother, to prepare him for her presence, and to +consult him as to the desirable moment. Caleb found his late master +lying exhausted on the floor of his dungeon. At first he would not speak +or even raise his head, nor did he for a long time apparently recognise +the faithful retainer of his uncle. But at length he grew milder, and +when he fully comprehended who the messenger was, and the object of his +mission, he at first seemed altogether disinclined to see his sister, +but in the end postponed their meeting for the present, and, pleading +great exhaustion, fixed for that sad interview the first hour of dawn. + +The venerable Bostenay had scarcely ever spoken since the fall of his +nephew; indeed it was but too evident that his faculties, even if they +had not entirely deserted him, were at least greatly impaired. He never +quitted his couch; he took no notice of what occurred. He evinced no +curiosity, scarcely any feeling. If indeed he occasionally did mutter an +observation, it was generally of an irritable character, nor truly did +he appear satisfied if anyone approached him, save Miriam, from +whom alone he would accept the scanty viands which he ever appeared +disinclined to touch. But his devoted niece, amid all her harrowing +affliction, could ever spare to the protector of her youth a placid +countenance, a watchful eye, a gentle voice, and a ready hand. Her +religion and her virtue, the strength of her faith, and the inspiration +of her innocence, supported this pure and hapless lady amid all her +undeserved and unparalleled sorrows. + +It was long past midnight; the young widow of Abner reposed upon a couch +in a soft slumber. The amiable Beruna and the beautiful Bathsheba, the +curtains drawn, watched the progress of the night. + +‘Shall I wake her?’ said the beautiful Bathsheba. ‘Methinks the stars +are paler! She bade me rouse her long before the dawn.’ + +‘Her sleep is too benign! Let us not wake her,’ replied the amiable +Beruna. ‘We rouse her only to sorrow.’ + +‘May her dreams at least be happy;’ rejoined the beautiful Bathsheba. +‘She sleeps tranquilly, as a flower.’ + +‘The veil has fallen from her head,’ said the amiable Beruna. ‘I will +replace it lightly on her brow. Is that well, my Bathsheba?’ + +‘It is well, sweet Beruna. Her face shrouded by the shawl is like a +pearl in its shell. See! she moves!’ + +‘Bathsheba!’ + +‘I am here, sweet lady.’ + +‘Is it near dawn?’ + +‘Not yet, sweet lady; it is yet night. It is long past the noon of +night, sweet lady; methinks I scent the rising breath of morn; but still +‘tis night, and the young moon shines like a sickle in the heavenly +field, amid the starry harvest.’ + +‘Beruna, gentle girl, give me thy arm. I’ll rise.’ + +The maidens advanced, and gently raising their mistress, supported her +to the window. + +‘Since our calamities,’ said Miriam, ‘I have never enjoyed such tranquil +slumber. My dreams were slight, but soothing. I saw him, but he smiled. +Have I slept long, sweet girls? Ye are very watchful.’ + +‘Dear lady, let me bring thy shawl. The air is fresh----’ + +‘But sweet; I thank thee, no. My brow is not so cool as to need a +covering. ‘Tis a fair night!’ + +Miriam gazed upon the wide prospect of the moonlit capital. The elevated +position of the citadel afforded an extensive view of the mighty groups +of buildings-each in itself a city, broken only by some vast and hooded +cupola, the tall, slender, white minarets of the mosques, or the black +and spiral form of some lonely cypress--through which the rushing +Tigris, flooded with light, sent forth its broad and brilliant torrent. +All was silent; not a single boat floated on the fleet river, not a +solitary voice broke the stillness of slumbering millions. She gazed +and, as she gazed, she could not refrain from contrasting the present +scene, which seemed the sepulchre of all the passions of our race, +with the unrivalled excitement of that stirring spectacle which Bagdad +exhibited on the celebration of the marriage of Alroy. How different +then, too, was her position from her present, and how happy! The only +sister of a devoted brother, the lord and conqueror of Asia, the bride +of his most victorious captain, one worthy of all her virtues, and whose +youthful valour had encircled her brow with a diadem. To Miriam, exalted +station had brought neither cares nor crimes. It had, as it were, only +rendered her charity universal, and her benevolence omnipotent. She +could not accuse herself, this blessed woman--she could not accuse +herself, even in this searching hour of self-knowledge--she could not +accuse herself, with all her meekness, and modesty, and humility, of +having for a moment forgotten her dependence on her God, or her duty to +her neighbour. + +But when her thoughts recurred to that being from whom they were indeed +scarcely ever absent; and when she remembered him, and all his life, +and all the thousand incidents of his youth, mysteries to the world, and +known only to her, but which were indeed the prescience of his fame, and +thought of all his surpassing qualities and all his sweet affection, +his unrivalled glory and his impending fate, the tears, in silent agony, +forced their way down her pale and pensive cheek. She bowed her head +upon Bathsheba’s shoulder, and sweet Beruna pressed her quivering hand. + +The moon set, the stars grew white and ghastly, and vanished one by one. +Over the distant plain of the Tigris, the scene of the marriage pomp, +the dark purple horizon shivered into a rich streak of white and orange. +The solemn strain of the Muezzin sounded from the minarets. Some one +knocked at the door. It was Caleb. + +‘I am ready,’ said Miriam; and for a moment she covered her face with +her right hand. ‘Think of me, sweet maidens; pray for me!’ + +Leaning on Caleb, and lighted by a gaoler, bearing torches, Miriam +descended the damp and broken stairs that led to the dungeon. She +faltered as she arrived at the grate. She stopped, and leant against the +cold and gloomy wall. The gaoler and Caleb preceded her. She heard the +voice of Alroy. It was firm and sweet. Its accents reassured her. Caleb +came forth with a torch, and held it to her feet; and, as he bent down, +he said, ‘My lord bade me beg you to be of good heart, for he is.’ + +The gaoler, having stuck his torch in the niche, withdrew. Miriam +desired Caleb to stay without. Then, summoning up all her energies, she +entered the dreadful abode. Alroy was standing to receive her. The +light fell full upon his countenance. It smiled. Miriam could no longer +restrain herself. She ran forward, and pressed him to her heart. + +‘O, my best, my long beloved,’ whispered Alroy; ‘such a meeting indeed +leads captivity captive!’ + +But the sister could not speak. She leant her head upon his shoulder, +and closed her eyes, that she might not weep. + +‘Courage, dear heart; courage, courage!’ whispered the captive. ‘Indeed +I am happy!’ + +‘My brother, my brother!’ + +‘Had we met yesterday, you would have found me perhaps a little vexed. +But to-day I am myself again. Since I crossed the Tigris, I know not +that I have felt such self-content. I have had sweet dreams, dear +Miriam, full of solace. And, more than dreams, the Lord has pardoned me, +I truly think.’ + +‘O, my brother! your words are full of comfort; for, indeed, I too have +dreamed, and dreamed of consolation. My spirit, since our fall, has +never been more tranquil.’ + +‘Indeed I am happy.’ + +‘Say so again, my David; let me hear again these words of solace!’ + +‘Indeed, ‘tis very true, my faithful friend. It is not spoken in +kind mockery to make you joyous. For know, last eve, whether the Lord +repented of his wrath, or whether some dreadful trials, of which I will +not speak, and wish not to remember, had made atonement for my manifold +sins, but so it was, that, about the time my angel Miriam sent her +soothing message, a feeling of repose came over me, such as I long have +coveted. Anon, I fell into a slumber, deep and sweet, and, instead of +those wild and whirling images that of late have darted from my brain +when it should rest, glimpses of empire and conspiracy, snatches of +fierce wars and mocking loves, I stood beside our native fountain’s +brink, and gathered flowers with my earliest friend. As I placed the +fragrant captives in your flowing locks, there came Jabaster, that +great, injured man, no longer stern and awful, but with benignant +looks, and full of love. And he said, “David, the Lord hath marked thy +faithfulness, in spite of the darkness of thy dungeon.” So he vanished. +He spoke, my sister, of some strange temptations by heavenly aid +withstood. No more of that. I awoke. And lo! I heard my name still +called. Full of my morning dream, I thought it was you, and I answered, +“Dear sister, art thou here?” But no one answered; and then, reflecting, +my memory recognised those thrilling tones that summoned Alroy in +Jabaster’s cave.’ ‘The Daughter of the Voice?’ ‘Even that sacred +messenger. I am full of faith. The Lord hath pardoned me. Be sure of +that.’ + +‘I cannot doubt it, David. You have done great things for Israel; no one +in these latter days has risen like you. If you have fallen, you were +young, and strangely tempted.’ + +‘Yet Israel, Israel! Did I not feel a worthier leader will yet arise, my +heart would crack. I have betrayed my country!’ + +‘Oh no, no, no! You have shown what we can do and shall do. Your memory +alone is inspiration. A great career, although baulked of its end, is +still a landmark of human energy. Failure, when sublime, is not without +its purpose. Great deeds are great legacies, and work with wondrous +usury. By what Man has done, we learn what Man can do; and gauge the +power and prospects of our race.’ + +‘Alas! there is no one to guard my name. ‘Twill be reviled; or worse, +‘twill be forgotten.’ + +‘Never! the memory of great actions never dies. The sun of glory, though +awhile obscured, will shine at last. And so, sweet brother, perchance +some poet, in some distant age, within whose veins our sacred blood may +flow, his fancy fired with the national theme, may strike his harp to +Alroy’s wild career, and consecrate a name too long forgotten?’ + +‘May love make thee a prophetess!’ exclaimed Alroy, as he bent down his +head and embraced her. ‘Do not tarry,’ he whispered. ‘‘Tis better that +we should part in this firm mood.’ + +She sprang from him, she clasped her hands. ‘We will not part,’ she +exclaimed, with energy; ‘I will die with thee.’ + +‘Blessed girl, be calm! Do not unman me.’ + +‘I am calm. See! I do not weep. Not a tear, not a tear. They are all in +my heart.’ + +‘Go, go, my Miriam, angel of light. Tarry no longer; I pray thee go. I +would not think of the past. Let all my mind be centred in the present. +Thy presence calls back our bygone days, and softens me too much. My +duty to my uncle. Go, dear one, go!’ + +‘And leave thee, leave thee to----Oh! my David, thou hast seen, thou +hast heard----Honain?’ + +‘No more; let not that accursed name profane those holy lips. Raise not +the demon in me.’ + +‘I am silent. Yet ‘tis madness! Oh! my brother, thou hast a fearful +trial.’ + +‘The God of Israel is my refuge. He saved our fathers in the fiery +furnace. He will save me.’ + +‘I am full of faith. I pray thee let me stay.’ + +‘I would be silent; I would be alone. I cannot speak, Miriam. I ask one +favour, the last and dearest, from her who has never had a thought but +for my wishes; blessed being, leave me.’ + +‘I go. O Alroy, farewell! Let me kiss you. Again, once more! Let me +kneel and bless you. Brother, beloved brother, great and glorious +brother, I am worthy of you: I will not weep. I am prouder in this dread +moment of your love than all your foes can be of their hard triumph!’ + +Beruna and Bathsheba received their mistress when she returned to her +chamber. They marked her desolate air. She was silent, pale, and cold. +They bore her to her couch, whereon she sat with a most listless and +unmeaning look; her quivering lips parted, her eyes fixed upon the +ground in vacant abstraction, and her arms languidly folded before +her. Beruna stole behind her, and supported her back with pillows, and +Bathsheba, unnoticed, wiped the slight foam from her mouth. Thus Miriam +remained for several hours, her faithful maidens in vain watching for +any indication of her self-consciousness. + +Suddenly a trumpet sounded. + +‘What is that?’ exclaimed Miriam, in a shrill voice, and looking up with +a distracted glance. + +Neither of them answered, since they were aware that it betokened the +going forth of Alroy to his trial. + +Miriam remained in the same posture, and with the same expression of +wild inquiry. Another trumpet sounded, and after that a shout of the +people. Then she raised up her arms to heaven, and bowed her head, and +died. + +‘Has the second trumpet sounded?’ + +‘To be sure: run, run for a good place. Where is Abdallah?’ + +‘Selling sherbet in the square. We shall find him. Has Alroy come +forth?’ + +‘Yes! he goes the other way. We shall be too late. Only think of +Abdallah selling sherbet!’ + +‘Father, let me go?’ + +‘You will be in the way; you are too young; you will see nothing. Little +boys should stay at home.’ + +‘No, they should not. I will go. You can put me on your shoulders.’ + +‘Where is Ibrahim? Where is Ali? We must all keep together. We shall +have to fight for it. I wish Abdallah were here. Only think of his +selling sherbet!’ + +‘Keep straight forward. That is right. It is no use going that way. The +bazaar is shut. There is Fakreddin, there is Osman Effendi. He has got a +new page.’ + +‘So he has, I declare; and a very pretty boy too.’ + +‘Father, will they impale Alroy alive?’ + +‘I am sure I do not know. Never ask questions, my dear. Little boys +never should.’ + +‘Yes, they should. I hope they will impale him alive. I shall be so +disappointed if they do not.’ + +‘Keep to the left. Dash through the Butchers’ bazaar: that is open. All +right, all right. Did you push me, sir?’ + +‘Suppose I did push you, sir, what then, sir?’ + +‘Come along, don’t quarrel. That is a Karasmian. They think they are to +do what they like. We are five to one, to be sure, but still there is +nothing like peace and quiet. I wish Abdallah were here with his stout +shoulders. Only think of his selling sherbet!’ + +The Square of the Grand Mosque, the same spot where Jabaster met Abidan +by appointment, was the destined scene of the pretended trial of Alroy. +Thither by break of day the sight-loving thousands of the capital had +repaired. In the centre of the square, a large circle was described by +a crimson cord, and guarded by Karasmian soldiers. Around this the +swelling multitude pressed like the gathering waves of ocean, but, +whenever the tide set in with too great an impulse, the savage +Karasmians appeased the ungovernable element by raising their +battle-axes, and brutally breaking the crowns and belabouring the +shoulders of their nearest victims. As the morning advanced, the +terraces of the surrounding houses, covered with awnings, were crowded +with spectators. All Bagdad was astir. Since the marriage of Alroy, +there had never been such a merry morn as the day of his impalement. + +At one end of the circle was erected a magnificent throne. Half way +between the throne and the other end of the circle, but further back, +stood a company of negro eunuchs, hideous to behold, who, clothed in +white, and armed with various instruments of torture, surrounded the +enormous stakes, tall, thin, and sharp, that were prepared for the final +ceremony. + +The flourish of trumpets, the clash of cymbals, and the wild beat of the +tambour, announced the arrival of Alp Arslan from the Serail. An avenue +to the circle had been preserved through the multitude. The royal +procession might be traced as it wound through the populace, by the +sparkling and undulating line of plumes of honour, and the dazzling +forms of the waving streamers, on which were inscribed the names of +Allah and the Prophet. Suddenly, amid the bursts of music, and +the shouts of the spectators, many of whom on the terraces humbled +themselves on their knees, Alp Arslan mounted the throne, around which +ranged themselves his chief captains, and a deputation of the Mullahs, +and Imams, and Cadis, and other principal personages of the city. + +The King of Karasmé was tall in stature, and somewhat meagre in form. He +was fair, or rather sandy-coloured, with a red beard, and blue eyes, +and a flat nose. The moment he was seated, a trumpet was heard in the +distance from an opposite quarter, and it was soon understood throughout +the assembly that the great captive was about to appear. + +A band of Karasmian guards first entered the circle, and ranged +themselves round the cord, with their backs to the spectators. After +them came fifty of the principal Hebrew prisoners, with their hands +bound behind them, but evidently more for form than security. To these +succeeded a small covered wagon drawn by mules, and surrounded by +guards, from which was led forth, his legs relieved from their manacles, +but his hands still in heavy chains, David Alroy! + +A universal buzz of blended sympathy, and wonder, and fear, and triumph +arose, throughout the whole assembly. Each man involuntarily stirred. +The vast populace moved to and fro in agitation. His garments soiled and +tattered, his head bare, and his long locks drawn off his forehead, pale +and thin, but still unsubdued, the late conqueror and Caliph of Bagdad +threw around a calm and imperial glance upon those who were but recently +his slaves. + +The trumpets again sounded, order was called, and a crier announced that +his Highness Alp Arslan, the mighty Sovereign of Karasmé, their Lord, +Protector, and King, and avenger of Allah and the Prophet, against all +rebellious and evil-minded Jews and Giaours, was about to speak. There +was a deep and universal silence, and then sounded a voice high as the +eagle’s in a storm. + +‘David Alroy!’ said his conqueror, ‘you are brought hither this day +neither for trial nor for judgment. Captured in arms against your +rightful sovereign, you are of course prepared, like other rebels, for +your doom. Such a crime alone deserves the most avenging punishments. +What then do you merit, who are loaded with a thousand infamies, who +have blasphemed Allah and the Prophet, and, by the practice of magic +arts and the aid of the infernal powers, have broken the peace of +kingdoms, occasioned infinite bloodshed, outraged all law, religion, and +decency, misled the minds of your deluded votaries, and especially by a +direct compact with Eblis, by horrible spells and infamous incantations, +captivated the senses of an illustrious Princess, heretofore famous for +the practice of every virtue, and a descendant of the Prophet himself. + +‘Behold these stakes of palm-wood, sharper than a lance! The most +terrible retribution that human ingenuity has devised for the guilty +awaits you. But your crimes baffle all human vengeance. Look forward +for your satisfactory reward to those infernal powers by whose dark +co-operation you have occasioned such disasters. Your punishment is +public, that all men may know that the guilty never escape, and that, +if your heart be visited by the slightest degree of compunction for +your numerous victims, you may this day, by the frank confession of the +irresistible means by which you seduced them, exonerate your victims +from the painful and ignominious end with which, through your influence +they are now threatened. Mark, O assembled people, the infinite mercy +of the Vicegerent of Allah! He allows the wretched man to confess his +infamy, and to save by his confession, his unfortunate victims. I have +said it. Glory to Allah!’ + +And the people shouted, ‘He has said it, he has said it! Glory to Allah! +He is great, he is great! and Mahomed is his prophet!’ + +‘Am I to speak?’ enquired Alroy, when the tumult had subsided. The +melody of his voice commanded universal attention. + +Alp Arslan nodded his head in approbation. + +‘King of Karasmé! I stand here accused of many crimes. Now hear my +answers. ‘Tis said I am a rebel. My answer is, I am a Prince as thou +art, of a sacred race, and far more ancient. I owe fealty to no one but +to my God, and if I have broken that I am yet to learn that Alp Arslan +is the avenger of His power. As for thy God and Prophet, I know not +them, though they acknowledge mine. ‘Tis well understood in every +polity, my people stand apart from other nations, and ever will, in +spite of suffering. So much for blasphemy; I am true to a deep faith +of ancient days, which even the sacred writings of thy race still +reverence. For the arts magical I practised, and the communion with +infernal powers ‘tis said I held, know, King, I raised the standard of +my faith by the direct commandment of my God, the great Creator of the +universe. What need of magic, then? What need of paltering with petty +fiends, when backed by His omnipotence? My magic was His inspiration. +Need I prove why, with such aid, my people crowded round me? The time +will come when from out our ancient seed, a worthier chief will rise, +not to be quelled even by thee, Sire. + +‘For that unhappy Princess of whom something was said (with no great +mercy, as it seemed to me), that lady is my wife, my willing wife; the +daughter of a Caliph, still my wife, although your stakes may make her +soon a widow. I stand not here to account for female fancies. Believe +me, Sire, she gave her beauty to my raptured arms with no persuasions +but such as became a soldier and a king. It may seem strange to thee +upon thy throne that the flower of Asia should be plucked by one so vile +as I am. Remember, the accidents of Fortune are most strange. I was not +always what I am. We have met before. There was a day, and that too +not long since, when, but for the treachery of some knaves I mark here, +Fortune seemed half inclined to reverse our fates. Had I conquered, I +trust I should have shown more mercy.’ + +The King of Karasmé was the most passionate of men. He had made a speech +according to the advice and instructions of his councillors, who had +assured him that the tone he adopted would induce Alroy to confess all +that he required, and especially to vindicate the reputation of the +Princess Schirene, who had already contrived to persuade Alp Arslan that +she was the most injured of her sex. The King of Karasmé stamped thrice +on the platform of his throne, and exclaimed with great fire, ‘By my +beard, ye have deceived me! The dog has confessed nothing!’ + +All the councillors and chief captains, and the Mullahs, and the +Imams, and the Cadis, and the principal personages of the city were +in consternation. They immediately consulted together, and, after much +disputation, agreed that, before they proceeded to extremities, it was +expedient to prove what the prisoner would not confess. A venerable +Sheikh, clothed in flowing robes of green, with a long white beard, +and a turban like the tower of Babel, then rose. His sacred reputation +procured silence while he himself delivered a long prayer, supplicating +Allah and the Prophet to confound all blaspheming Jews and Giaours, and +to pour forth words of truth from the mouths of religious men. And +then the venerable Sheikh summoned all witnesses against David Alroy. +Immediately advanced Kisloch the Kourd, to whom, being placed in an +eminent position, the Cadi of Bagdad drawing forth a scroll from his +velvet bag, read a deposition, wherein the worthy Kisloch stated that he +first became acquainted with the prisoner, David Alroy, in some ruins in +the desert, the haunt of banditti, of whom Alroy was the chief; that +he, Kisloch, was a reputable merchant, and that his caravan had been +plundered by these robbers, and he himself captured; that, on the second +night of his imprisonment, Alroy appeared to him in the likeness of a +lion, and on the third, of a bull with fiery eyes; that he was in the +habit of constantly transforming himself; that he frequently raised +spirits; that, at length, on one terrible night, Eblis himself came in +great procession, and presented Alroy with the sceptre of Solomon Ben +Daoud; and that the next day Alroy raised his standard, and soon after +massacred Hassan Subah and his Seljuks, by the visible aid of many +terrible demons. + +Calidas the Indian, the Guebre, and the Negro, and a few congenial +spirits, were not eclipsed in the satisfactory character of their +evidence by the luminous testimony of Kisloch the Kourd. The +irresistible career of the Hebrew conqueror was undeniably accounted +for, and the honour of Moslem arms and the purity of Moslem faith were +established in their pristine glory and all their unsullied reputation. +David Alroy was proved to be a child of Eblis, a sorcerer, and a dealer +in charms and magical poisons. The people listened with horror and with +indignation. They would have burst through the guards and torn him in +pieces, had not they been afraid of the Karasmian battle-axes. So they +consoled themselves with the prospect of his approaching tortures. + +The Cadi of Bagdad bowed himself before the King of Karasmé, and +whispered at a respectful distance in the royal ear. The trumpets +sounded, the criers enjoined silence, and the royal lips again moved. + +‘Hear, O ye people, and be wise. The chief Cadi is about to read +the deposition of the royal Princess Schirene, chief victim of the +sorcerer.’ + +And the deposition was read, which stated that David Alroy possessed, +and wore next to his heart, a talisman, given him by Eblis, the virtue +of which was so great that, if once it were pressed to the heart of any +woman, she was no longer mistress of her will. Such had been the unhappy +fate of the daughter of the Commander of the Faithful. + +‘Is it so written?’ enquired the captive. + +‘It is so written,’ replied the Cadi, ‘and bears the imperial signature +of the Princess.’ + +‘It is a forgery.’ + +The King of Karasmé started from his throne, and in his rage nearly +descended its steps. His face was like scarlet, his beard was like a +flame. A favourite minister ventured gently to restrain the royal robe. + +‘Kill the dog on the spot,’ muttered the King of Karasmé. + +‘The Princess is herself here,’ said the Cadi, ‘to bear witness to the +spells of which she was a victim, but from which, by the power of Allah +and the Prophet, she is now released.’ + +Alroy started! + +‘Advance, royal Princess,’ said the Cadi, ‘and, if the deposition thou +hast heard be indeed true, condescend to hold up the imperial hand that +adorned it with thy signature.’ + +A band of eunuchs near the throne gave way; a female figure veiled to +her feet appeared. She held up her hand amid the breathless agitation of +the whole assembly; the ranks of the eunuchs again closed; a shriek was +heard, and the veiled figure disappeared. + +‘I am ready for thy tortures, King,’ said Alroy, in a tone of deep +depression. His firmness appeared to have deserted him. His eyes were +cast upon the ground. Apparently he was buried in profound thought, or +had delivered himself up to despair. + +‘Prepare the stakes,’ said Alp Arslan. + +An involuntary, but universal, shudder might be distinguished through +the whole assembly. + +A slave advanced and offered Alroy a scroll. He recognised the Nubian +who belonged to Honain. His former minister informed him that he was +at hand, that the terms he offered in the dungeon might even yet be +granted; that if Alroy would, as he doubted not, as he entreated him, +accept them, he was to place the scroll in his bosom, but that if +he were still inexorable, still madly determined on a horrible and +ignominious end, he was to tear the scroll and throw it in to the arena. +Instantly Alroy took the scroll, and with great energy tore it into a +thousand pieces. A puff of wind carried the fragments far and wide. +The mob fought for these last memorials of David Alroy, and this little +incident occasioned a great confusion. + +In the meantime the negroes prepared the instruments of torture and of +death. + +‘The obstinacy of this Jewish dog makes me mad,’ said the King of +Karasmé to his courtiers. ‘I will hold some parley with him before he +dies.’ The favourite minister entreated his sovereign to be content; +but the royal beard grew so red, and the royal eyes flashed forth such +terrible sparks of fire, that even the favourite minister at length gave +way. + +The trumpet sounded, the criers called silence, and the voice of Alp +Arslan was again heard. + +‘Thou dog, dost see what is preparing for thee? Dost know what awaits +thee in the halls of thy master Eblis? Can a Jew be influenced even by +false pride? Is not life sweet? Is it not better to be my slipper-bearer +than to be impaled?’ + +‘Magnanimous Alp Arslan,’ replied Alroy in a tone of undisguised +contempt; ‘thinkest thou that any torture can be equal to the +recollection that I have been conquered by thee?’ + +‘By my beard, he mocks me!’ exclaimed the Karasmian monarch, ‘he defies +me! Touch not my robe. I will parley with him. Ye see no farther than a +hooded hawk, ye sons of a blind mother. This is a sorcerer; he hath yet +some master spell; he will yet save himself. He will fly into the air, +or sink into the earth. He laughs at our tortures.’ The King of Karasmé +precipitately descended the steps of his throne, followed by his +favourite minister, and his councillors, and chief captains, and the +Cadis, and the Mullahs, and the Imams, and the principal personages of +the city. + +‘Sorcerer!’ exclaimed Alp Arslan, ‘insolent sorcerer! base son of a base +mother! dog of dogs! dost thou defy us? Does thy master Eblis whisper +hope? Dost thou laugh at our punishments? Wilt thou fly into the +air? wilt thou sink into the earth? eh, eh? Is it so, is it so?’ The +breathless monarch ceased, from the exhaustion of passion. He tore his +beard out by the roots, he stamped with uncontrollable rage. + +‘Thou art wiser than thy councillors, royal Arslan; I do defy thee. +My master, although not Eblis, has not deserted me. I laugh at thy +punishments. Thy tortures I despise. I shall both sink into the earth +and mount into the air. Art thou answered?’ + +‘By my beard,’ exclaimed the enraged Arslan, ‘I am answered. Let Eblis +save thee if he can;’ and the King of Karasmé, the most famous master +of the sabre in Asia, drew his blade like lightning from its sheath, +and took off the head of Alroy at a stroke. It fell, and, as it fell, a +smile of triumphant derision seemed to play upon the dying features +of the hero, and to ask of his enemies, ‘Where now are all your +tortures?’[82] + + + + +NOTES TO ALROY. + +[Footnote 1: page 4.--_We shall yet see an ass mount a ladder_.--Hebrew +proverb.] + +[Footnote 2: page 12.--Our walls are hung with flowers you love. It is +the custom of the Hebrews in many of their festivals, especially in +the feast of the Tabernacle, to hang the walls of their chambers with +garlands of flowers.] + +[Footnote 3: page 13.--_The traditionary tomb of Esther and Mordecai_. +‘I accompanied the priest through the town over much ruin and rubbish +to an enclosed piece of ground, rather more elevated than any in its +immediate vicinity. In the centre was the Jewish tomb-a square building +of brick, of a mosque-like form, with a rather elongated dome at the +top. The door is in the ancient sepulchral fashion of the country, very +small, consisting of a single stone of great thickness, and turning on +its own pivots from one side. Its key is always in possession of +the eldest of the Jews resident at Hamadan. Within the tomb are two +sarcophagi, made of a very dark wood, carved with great intricacy of +pattern and richness of twisted ornament, with a line of inscription in +Hebrew,’ &c.--_Sir R. K. Porter’s Travels in Persia, vol. ii. p. 107_.] + +[Footnote 4: page 16.--_A marble fountain, the richly-carved cupola +supported by twisted columns_. The vast magnificence and elaborate +fancy of the tombs and fountains is a remarkable feature of Oriental +architecture. The Eastern nations devote to these structures the richest +and the most durable materials. While the palaces of Asiatic monarchs +are in general built only of wood, painted in fresco, the rarest marbles +are dedicated to the sepulchre and the spring, which are often richly +gilt, and adorned even with precious stones.] + +[Footnote 5: page 17.--_The chorus of our maidens._ It is still the +custom for the women in the East to repair at sunset in company to +the fountain for their supply of water. In Egypt, you may observe at +twilight the women descending the banks of the Nile in procession from +every town and village. Their graceful drapery, their long veils not +concealing their flashing eyes, and the classical forms of their vases, +render this a most picturesque and agreeable spectacle.] + +[Footnote 6: page 24.--I describe the salty deserts of Persia, a +locality which my tale required; but I have ventured to introduce here, +and in the subsequent pages, the principal characteristics of the great +Arabian deserts: the mirage, the simoom, the gazelle, the oasis.] + +[Footnote 7: page 28.--_Jackals and marten-cat._ At nightfall, +especially in Asia Minor, the lonely horseman will often meet the +jackals on their evening prowl. Their moaning is often heard during the +night. I remember, when becalmed off Troy, the most singular screams +were heard at intervals throughout the night, from a forest on the +opposite shore, which a Greek sailor assured me proceeded from a +marten-cat, which had probably found the carcass of some horse.] + +[Footnote 8: page 30. Elburz, or Elborus, the highest range of the +Caucasus.] + +[Footnote 9: page 31.--_A circular and brazen table, sculptured with +strange characters and mysterious figures; near it was a couch on which +lay several volumes._ A cabalistic table, perhaps a zodiac. The +books were doubtless _Sepher Happeliah_, the Book of Wonders; _Sepher +Hakkaneh_, the Book of the Pen; and _Sepher Habbahir_, the Book of +Light. This last unfolds the most sublime mysteries.] + +[Footnote 10: page 32.--_Answered the Cabalist._ ‘Simeon ben Jochai, +who flourished in the second century, and was a disciple of Akibha, is +called by the Jews the Prince of the Cabalists. After the suppression of +the sedition in which his master had been so unsuccessful, he concealed +himself in a cave, where, according to the Jewish historians, he +received revelations, which he after-wards delivered to his disciples, +and which they carefully preserved in the book called Sohar. His master, +Akibha, who lived soon after the destruction of Jerusalem, was the +author of the famous book Jezirah, quoted by the Jews as of Divine +authority. When Akibha was far advanced in life, appeared the famous +impostor Barchochebas, who, under the character of the Messiah, promised +to deliver his countrymen from the power of the Emperor Adrian. Akibha +espoused his cause, and afforded him the protection and support of his +name, and an army of two hundred thousand men repaired to his standard. +The Romans at first slighted the insurrection; but when they found the +insurgents spread slaughter and rapine wherever they came, they sent out +a military force against them. At. first, the issue of the contest +was doubtful. The Messiah himself was not taken until the end of four +years.’--Enfield, _Philosophy of the Jews_, vol. ii. + +‘Two methods of instruction were in use among the Jews; the one public, +or _exoteric_; the other secret, or esoteric. The exoteric doctrine was +that which was openly taught the people from the law of Moses and the +traditions of the fathers. The esoteric was that which treated of the +mysteries of the Divine nature, and other sublime subjects, and was +known by the name of the Cabala. The latter was, after the manner of the +Pythagorean and Egyptian mysteries, taught only to certain persons, +who were bound, under the most solemn anathema, not to divulge it. +Concerning the miraculous origin and preservation of the Cabala, the +Jews relate many marvellous tales. They derive these mysteries from +Adam, and assert that, while the first man was in Paradise, the angel +Rasiel brought him a book from heaven, which contained the doctrines +of heavenly wisdom, and that, when Adam received this book, angels came +down to him to learn its contents, but that he refused to admit them to +the knowledge of sacred things entrusted to him alone; that, after the +Fall, this book was taken back into heaven; that, after many prayers +and tears, God restored it to Adam, from whom it passed to Seth. In the +degenerate age before the flood this book was lost, and the mysteries it +contained almost forgotten; but they were restored by special revelation +to Abraham, who committed them to writing in the book _Jezirah.’--Vide +Enfield, vol. ii. p. 219_. + +‘The Hebrew word _Cabala,’_ says Dom Calmet, ‘signifies tradition, and +the Rabbins, who are named Cabalists, apply themselves principally to +the combination of certain words, numbers, and letters, by the means of +which they boasted they could reveal the future, and penetrate the +sense of the most difficult passages of Scripture. This science does not +appear to have any fixed principles, but depends upon certain ancient +traditions, whence its name Cabala. The Cabalists have a great number of +names which they style sacred, by means of which they raise spirits, and +affect to obtain supernatural intelligence.’--See Calmet, Art. _Cabala_. + +‘We spake before,’ says Lightfoot, ‘of the commonness of Magick among +them, one singular means whereby they kept their own in delusion, and +whereby they affronted ours. The general expectation of the nation of +Messias coming when he did had this double and contrary effect, that it +forwarded those that belonged to God to believe and receive the Gospel; +and those that did not, it gave encouragement to some to take upon +them they were Christ or some great prophet, and to others it gave some +persuasion to be deluded by them. These deceivers dealt most of them +with Magick, and that cheat ended not when Jerusalem ended, though one +would have thought that had been a fair term of not further expecting +Messias; but since the people were willing to be deceived by such +expectation, there rose up deluders still that were willing to deceive +them.’--Lightfoot, vol. ii. p. 371. + +For many curious details of the Cabalistic Magic, Vide Basnage, vol. v. +p. 384, &c.] + +[Footnote 11: page 34.--_Read the stars no longer_. ‘The modern Jews,’ +says Basnage, ‘have a great idea of the influence of the stars.’ Vol. +iv. p. 454. But astrology was most prevalent among the Babylonian +Rabbins, of whom Jabaster was one. Living in the ancient land of the +Chaldeans, these sacred sages imbibed a taste for the mystic lore of +their predecessors. The stars moved, and formed letters and lines, when +consulted by any of the highly-initiated of the Cabalists. This they +styled the Celestial Alphabet.] + +[Footnote 12: page 38.--__The Daughter of the Voice. ‘Both the Talmudick +and the latter Rabbins,’ says Lightfoot, ‘make frequent mention of _Bath +Kol, or Filia Vocis_, or an echoing voice which served under the Second +Temple for their utmost refuge of revelation. For when Urim and Thummim, +the oracle, was ceased, and prophecy was decayed and gone, they had, +as they say, certain strange and extraordinary voices upon certain +extraordinary occasions, which were their warnings and advertisements +in some special matters. Infinite instances of this might be adduced, if +they might be believed. Now here it may be questioned why they called +it _Bath Kol, the daughter of a voice,_ and not a voice itself? If the +strictness of the Hebrew word Bath be to be stood upon, which always it +is not, it may be answered, that it is called The Daughter of a Voice +in relation to the oracles of Urim and Thummim. For whereas that was a +voice given from off the mercy-seat, within the vail, and this, upon the +decay of that oracle, came as it were in its place, it might not +unfitly or improperly be called a _daughter_, or successor of that +voice.’--Lightfoot, vol. i. pp. 485, 486. Consult also the learned +Doctor, vol. ii. pp. 128, 129: ‘It was used for a testimony from heaven, +but was indeed performed by magic art.’] + +[Footnote 13: page 44.--_The walls and turrets of an extensive city_. +In Persia, and the countries of the Tigris and Euphrates, the traveller +sometimes arrives at deserted cities of great magnificence and +antiquity. Such, for instance, is the city of Anneh. I suppose Alroy to +have entered one of the deserted capitals of the Seleucidae. They are in +general the haunt of bandits.] + +[Footnote 14: page 49.--_Punctured his arm._ From a story told by an +Arab.] + +[Footnote 15: page 52.--_The pilgrim could no longer sustain himself._ +An endeavor to paint the simoom.] + +[Footnote 16: page 54.--_By the holy stone._ The Caaba.--The Caaba is +the same to the Mahomedan as the Holy Sepulchre to the Christian. It is +the most unseemly, but the most sacred, part of the mosque at Mecca, and +is a small, square stone building.] + +[Footnote 17: page 56.--_I am a Hakim;_ i.e. Physician, an almost sacred +character in the East. As all Englishmen travel with medicine-chests, +the Turks are not be wondered at for considering us physicians.] + +[Footnote 18: page 57.--_Threw their wanton jerreeds in the air_. The +Persians are more famous for throwing the jerreed than any other nation. +A Persian gentleman, while riding quietly by your side, will suddenly +dash off at full gallop, then suddenly check his horse, and take a long +aim with his lance with admirable precision. I should doubt, however, +whether he could hurl a lance a greater distance or with greater force +and effect than a Nubian, who will fix a mark at sixty yards with his +javelin.] + +[Footnote 19: page 58.--_Some pounded coffee._ The origin of the use of +coffee is obscure; but there is great reason to believe that it had not +been introduced in the time of Alroy. When we consider that the life of +an Oriental at the present day mainly consists in drinking coffee and +smoking tobacco, we cannot refrain from asking ourselves, ‘What did +he do before either of these comparatively modern inventions was +discovered?’ For a long time, I was inclined to suspect that tobacco +might have been in use in Asia before it was introduced into Europe; but +a passage in old Sandys, in which he mentions the wretched tobacco smoke +in Turkey, and accounts for it by that country being supplied with ‘the +dregs of our markets,’ demonstrates that, in his time, there was no +native growth in Asia. Yet the choicest tobaccos are now grown on the +coast of Syria, the real Levant. But did the Asiatics smoke any other +plant or substance before tobacco? In Syria, at the present day, they +smoke a plant called _timbac_; the Chinese smoke opium; the artificial +preparations for the hookah are known to all Indians. I believe, +however, that these are all refinements, and for this reason, that +in the classic writers, who were as well acquainted with the Oriental +nations as ourselves, we find no allusion to the practice of smoking. +The anachronism of the pipe I have not therefore ventured to commit, and +that of coffee will, I trust, be pardoned.] + +[Footnote 20: page 58.--_Wilder gestures of the dancing girls._ These +dancing girls abound throughout Asia. The most famous are the Almeh of +Egypt, and the Nautch of India. These last are a caste, the first only a +profession.] + +[Footnote 21: page 64.--_For thee the bastinado_. The bastinado is the +common punishment of the East, and an effective and dreaded one. It is +administered on the soles of the feet, the instrument a long cane or +palm-branch. Public executions are very-rare.] + +[Footnote 22: page 73.--_A door of tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl_. +This elegant mode of inlay is common in Oriental palaces, and may be +observed also in Alhambra, at Granada.] + +[Footnote 23: page 74.--_A vaulted, circular, and highly embossed roof, +of purple, scarlet, and gold._ In the very first style of Saracenic +architecture. See the Hall of the Ambassadors in Alhambra, and many +other chambers in that exquisite creation.] + +[Footnote 24: page 74.--_Nubian eunuchs dressed in rich habits of +scarlet and gold._ Thus the guard of Nubian eunuchs of the present Pacha +of Egypt, Mehemet Ali, or rather Caliph, a title which he wishes to +assume. They ride upon white horses.] + +[Footnote 25: page 74.--_A quadrangular court of roses._ So in Alhambra, +‘The Court of Myrtles,’ leading to the Court of Columns, wherein is the +famous Fountain of Lions.] + +[Footnote 26: page 75.--_An Abyssinian giant._ A giant is still a common +appendage to an Oriental court even at the present day. See a very +amusing story in the picturesque ‘Persian Sketches’ of that famous +elchee, Sir John Malcolm.] + +[Footnote 27: page 75.--_Surrounded by figures of every rare quadruped._ +‘The hall of audience,’ says Gibbon, from Cardonne, speaking of the +magnificence of the Saracens of Cordova, ‘was encrusted with gold and +pearls, and a great basin in the centre was surrounded with the curious +and costly figures of birds and quadrupeds.’-_Decline and Fall_, vol. x. +p. 39.] + +[Footnote 28: page 76.--_A tree of gold and silver._ ‘Among the other +spectacles of rare and stupendous luxury was a tree of gold and silver, +spreading into eighteen large branches, on which, and on the lesser +boughs, sat a variety of birds made of the same precious metals, as +well as the leaves of the tree. While the machinery effected spontaneous +motions, the several birds warbled their natural harmony.’-_Gibbon,_ +vol. x. p. 38, from Abulfeda, describing the court of the Caliphs of +Bagdad in the decline of their power.] + +[Footnote 29: page 76.--_Four hundred men led as many white bloodhounds, +with collars of gold and rubies_. I have somewhere read of an Indian or +Persian monarch whose coursing was conducted in this gorgeous style: if +I remember right, it was Mahmoud the Gaznevide.] + +[Footnote 30: page 76.--_A steed marked on its forehead with a star._ +The sacred steed of Solorhon.] + +[Footnote 31: page 78.--_Instead of water, each basin was replenished +with the purest quicksilver._ ‘In a lofty pavilion of the gardens, one +of those basins and fountains so delightful in a sultry climate, +was replenished, not with water, but with the purest quicksilver.’ +--_Gibbon_, vol. x, from Cardonne.] + +[Footnote 32: page 78.-_Playing with a rosary of pearls and emeralds_. +Moslems of rank are never without the rosary, sometimes of amber and +rare woods, sometimes of jewels. The most esteemed is of that peculiar +substance called Mecca wood.] + +[Footnote 33: page 78.--_The diamond hilt of a small poniard._ The +insignia of a royal female.] + +[Footnote 34: page 83.--_You have been at Paris_. Paris was known to the +Orientals at this time as a city of considerable luxury and importance. +The Embassy from Haroun Alraschid to Charlemagne, at an earlier date, is +of course recollected.] + +[Footnote 35: page 90.--_At length beheld the lost capital of his +fathers._ The finest view of Jerusalem is from the Mount of Olives. It +is little altered since the period when David Alroy is supposed to have +gazed upon it, but it is enriched by the splendid Mosque of Omar, built +by the Moslem conquerors on the supposed site of the temple, and which, +with its gardens, and arcades, and courts, and fountains, may fairly be +described as the most imposing of Moslem fanes. I endeavoured to enter +it at the hazard of my life. I was detected, and surrounded by a crowd +of turbaned fanatics, and escaped with difficulty; but I saw enough +to feel that minute inspection would not belie the general character I +formed of it from the Mount of Olives. I caught a glorious glimpse of +splendid courts, and light aify gates of Saracenic triumph, flights of +noble steps, long arcades, and interior gardens, where silver fountains +spouted their tall streams amid the taller cypresses.] + +[Footnote 36: page 91.--_Entered Jerusalem by the gate of Zion_. The +gate of Zion still remains, and from it you descend into the valley of +Siloah.] + +[Footnote 37: page 94.-_ King Pirgandicus._ According to a Talmudical +story, however, of which I find a note, this monarch was not a Hebrew +but a Gentile, and a very wicked one. He once invited eleven famous +doctors of the holy nation to supper. They were received in the most +magnificent style, and were then invited, under pain of death, either +to eat pork, to accept a pagan mistress, or to drink wine consecrated +to idols. After long consultation, the doctors, in great tribulation, +agreed to save their heads by accepting the last alternative, since +the first and second were forbidden by Moses, and the last only by the +Rabbins. The King assented, the doctors drank the impure wine, and, +as it was exceedingly good, drank freely. The wine, as will sometimes +happen, created a terrible appetite; the table was covered with dishes, +and the doctors, heated by the grape, were not sufficiently careful of +what they partook. In short, the wicked King Pirgandicus contrived that +they should sup off pork, and being carried from the table quite tipsy, +each of the eleven had the mortification of finding himself next morning +in the arms of a pagan mistress. In the course of the year all the +eleven died sudden deaths, and this visitation occurred to them, not +because they had violated the law of Moses, but because they believed +that the precepts of the Rabbins could be outraged with more impunity +than the Word of God.] + +[Footnote 38: page 94.--_And conquered Julius Cæsar._ This classic hero +often figures in the erratic pages of the Talmud.] + +[Footnote 39: page 94.--_The Tombs of the Kings._ The present pilgrim to +Jerusalem will have less trouble than Alroy in discovering the Tombs of +the Kings, though he probably would not as easily obtain the sceptre of +Solomon. The tombs that bear this title are of the time of the Asmonean +princes, and of a more ambitious character than any other of the +remains. An open court, about fifty feet in breadth, and extremely +deep, is excavated out of the rock. One side is formed by a portico, the +frieze of which is sculptured in a good Syro-Greek style. There is no +grand portal; you crawl into the tombs by a small opening on one of +the sides. There are a few small chambers with niches, recesses, and +sarcophagi, some sculptured in the same flowing style as the frieze. +This is the most important monument at Jerusalem; and Dr. Clarke, +who has lavished wonder and admiration on the tombs of Zachariah and +Absalom, has declared the Tombs of the Kings to be one of the marvellous +productions of antiquity.] + +[Footnote 40: Page 95.--‘_Rabbi Hillel_ was one of the most celebrated +among the Jewish Doctors, both for birth, learning, rule, and children. +He was of the seed of David by his mother’s side, being of the posterity +of Shephatiah, the son of Abital, David’s wife. He was brought up in +Babel, from whence he came up to Jerusalem at forty years old, and there +studied the law forty years more under Shemaiah and Abtalion, and after +them he was President of the Sanhedrim forty years more. The beginning +of his Presidency is generally conceded upon to have been just one +hundred ‘years before the Temple was destroyed; by which account he +began eight-and-twenty years before our Saviour was born, and died +when he was about twelve years old. He is renowned for his fourscore +scholars.’--_Lightfoot,_ vol. ii. p. 2008. + +The great rival of Hillel was Shammai. Their controversies, and the +fierceness of their partisans, are a principal feature of Rabbinical +history. They were the same as the Scotists and Thomists. At last +the Bath Kol interfered, and decided for Hillel, but in a spirit of +conciliatory dexterity. The Bath Kol came forth and spake thus: ‘The +words both of the one party and the other are the words of the living +God, but the certain decision of the matter is according to the decrees +of the school of Hillel. And henceforth, whoever shall transgress the +decrees of the school of Hillel is punishable with death.’] + +[Footnote 41: page 97.--_A number of small, square, low chambers._ These +excavated cemeteries, which abound in Palestine and Egypt, were often +converted into places of worship by the Jews and early Christians. +Sandys thus describes the Synagogue at Jerusalem in his time.] + +[Footnote 42: page 08.--_Their heads mystically covered._ The Hebrews +cover their heads during their prayers with a sacred shawl.] + +[Footnote 43: page 98.--_Expounded the law to the congregation of the +people._ The custom, I believe, even to the present day, among the +Hebrews, a remnant of their old academies, once so famous.] + +[Footnote 44: page 99.--_The Valley of Jehoshaphat and the Tomb of +Absalom._ In the Vale of Jehoshaphat, among many other tombs, are two +of considerable size, and which, although of a corrupt Grecian +architecture, are dignified by the titles of the tombs of Zachariah and +Absalom.] + +[Footnote 45: page 101.--_The scanty rill of Siloah._ The sublime Siloah +is now a muddy rill; you descend by steps to the fountain which is its +source, and which is covered with an arch. Here the blind man received +his sight; and, singular enough, to this very day the healing reputation +of its waters prevails, and summons to its brink all those neighbouring +Arabs who suffer from the ophthalmic affections not uncommon in this +part of the world.] + +[Footnote 46: page 102.--_Several isolated tombs of considerable size_. +There are no remains of ancient Jerusalem, or the ancient Jews. Some +tombs there are which may be ascribed to the Asmonean princes; but all +the monuments of David, Solomon, and their long posterity, have utterly +disappeared.] + +[Footnote 47: page 103.--_Are cut strange characters and unearthly +forms_. As at Benihassan, and many other of the sculptured catacombs of +Egypt.] + +[Footnote 48: page 104.--_A crowd of bats rushed forward and +extinguished his torch._ In entering the Temple of Dendara, our torches +were extinguished by a crowd of bats.] + +[Footnote 49: page 104.--_The gallery was of great extent, with a +gradual declination._ So in the great Egyptian tombs.] + +[Footnote 50: page 105.--_The Afrite, for it was one of those dread +beings._ Beings of a monstrous form, the most terrible of all the orders +of the Dives.] + +[Footnote 51: page 106.--_An avenue of colossal lions of red granite._ +An avenue of Sphinxes more than a mile in length connected the quarters +of Luxoor and Carnak in Egyptian Thebes. Its fragments remain. Many +other avenues of Sphinxes and lion-headed Kings may be observed in +various parts of Upper Egypt.] + +[Footnote 52: page 107.--_A stupendous portal, cut out of the solid +rock, four hundred feet in height, and supported by clusters of colossal +Caryatides._ See the great rock temple of Ipsambul in Lower Nubia. The +sitting colossi are nearly seventy feet in height. But there is a Torso +of a statue of Rameses the Second at Thebes, vulgarly called the great +Memnon, which measures upwards of sixty feet round the shoulders.] + +[Footnote 53: page 109.--_Fifty steps of ivory, and each step guarded by +golden lions._ See 1st Kings, chap. x. 18-20.] + +[Footnote 54: page 120.--_Crossed the desert on a swift dromedary_. The +difference between a camel and a dromedary is the difference between a +hack and a thorough-bred horse. There is no other.] + +[Footnote 55: page 121.--_That celestial alphabet known to the true +Cabalist_. See Note 11.] + +[Footnote 56: page 133.--_The last of the Seljuks had expired._ The +Orientals are famous for their massacres: that of the Mamlouks by +the present Pacha of Egypt, and of the Janissaries of the Sultan, are +notorious. But one of the most terrible, and effected under the most +difficult and dangerous circumstances, was the massacre of the Albanian +Beys by the Grand Vizir, in the autumn of 1830. I was in Albania at the +time.] + +[Footnote 57: page 136.--_ The minarets were illumined._ So, I remember, +at Constantinople, at the commencement of 1831 at the departure of the +Mecca caravan, and also at the annual fast of Ramadan.] + +[Footnote 58: page 138.--_One asking alms with a wire run through his +cheek._ Not uncommon. These Dervishes frequent the bazaars.] + +[Footnote 59: page 142.--_One hundred thousand warriors were now +assembled._ In countries where the whole population is armed, a vast +military force is soon assembled. Barchochebas was speedily at the head +of two hundred thousand fighting men, and held the Romans long in check +under one of their most powerful emperors.] + +[Footnote 60: page 143.--_Some high-capped Tatar with despatches._ I +have availed myself of a familiar character in Oriental life, but +the use of a Tatar as a courier in the time of Alroy is, I fear, an +anachronism.] + +[Footnote 61: page 144.--_Each day some warlike Atabek, at the head +of his armed train, poured into the capital of the caliphs._ I was +at Yanina, the capital of Albania, when the Grand Vizir summoned the +chieftains of the country, and I was struck by their magnificent arrays +each day pouring into the city.] + +[Footnote 62: page 153.--_It is the Sabbath etc_. ‘They began their +Sabbath from sunset, and the same time of day they ended it.’--Talm. +Hierosolym. in _Sheveith_, fol. 33, col. I. The eve of the Sabbath, +or the day before, was called the day of the preparation for the +Sabbath.--Luke xxiii. 54. + +‘And from the time of the evening sacrifice and forward, they began to +fit themselves for the Sabbath, and to cease from their works, so as +not to go to the barber, not to sit in judgment, &c.; nay, thenceforward +they would not set things on working, which, being set a-work, would +complete their business of themselves, unless it would be completed +before the Sabbath came--_as wool was not put to dye, unless it +could take colour while it was yet day! &c._--Talm. in Sab., par. I; +Lightfoot, vol. i. p. 218. + +‘Towards sunsetting, when the Sabbath was now approaching, they lighted +up the Sabbath lamp. Men and women were bound to have a lamp lighted +up in their houses on the Sabbath, though they were never so poor--nay, +though they were forced to go a-begging for oil for this purpose; and +the lighting up of this lamp was a part of making the Sabbath a +delight; and women were especially commanded to look to this +business.’--Maimonides in Sab. par. 36.] + +[Footnote 63: page 156.--_The presence of the robes of honour_. These +are ever carried in procession, and their number denotes the rank and +quality of the chief, or of the individual to whom they are offered.] + +[Footnote 64: page 158.--_Pressed it to his lips, and placed it in his +vest._ The elegant mode in which the Orientals receive presents.] + +[Footnote 65: page 164.--A cap of transparent pink porcelain, studded with pearls. +Thus a great Turk, who afforded me hospitality, was accustomed to drink +his coffee.] + +[Footnote 66: page 168.--_Slippers powdered with pearls_. The slippers +in the East form a very fanciful portion of the costume. It is not +uncommon to see them thus adorned and beautifully embroidered. In +precious embroidery and enamelling the Turkish artists are unrivalled.] + +[Footnote 67: page 185.--_The policy of the son of Kareah. Vide_ +Jeremiah, chap. xlii.] + +[Footnote 68: page 191.--_The inviting gestures and the voluptuous grace +of the dancing girls of Egypt._ A sculptor might find fine studies in +the Egyptian Almeh.] + +[Footnote 69: page 194.--_Six choice steeds sumptuously +caparisoned._ Led horses always precede a great man. I think there were +usually twelve before the Sultan when he went to Mosque, which he did in +public every Friday.] + +[Footnote 70: page 194.--_Six Damascus sabres of unrivalled temper._ +But sabres are not to be found at Damascus, any more than cheeses at +Stilton, or oranges at Malta. The art of watering the blade is, however, +practised, I believe, in Persia. A fine Damascus blade will fetch fifty +or even one hundred guineas English.] + +[Footnote 71: page 195.--_Roses from Rocnabad_. A river in Persia famous +for its bowery banks of roses.] + +[Footnote 72: page 195.--_Screens made of the feather of a roc._ The +screens and fans in the East, made of the plumage of rare birds with +jewelled handles, are very gorgeous.] + +[Footnote 73: page 196.--_A tremulous aigrette of brilliants._ Worn only +by persons of the highest rank. The Sultan presented Lord Nelson after +the battle of the Nile with an aigrette of diamonds.] + +[Footnote 74: page 211.--_ To send him the whole of the next course._ +These compliments from the tables of the great are not uncommon in +the East. When at the head-quarters of the Grand Vizir at Yanina, his +Highness sent to myself and my travelling companions a course from his +table, singers and dancing girls.] + +[Footnote 75: page 212.--_The golden wine of Mount Lebanon_. A most +delicious wine, from its colour, brilliancy, and rare flavour, justly +meriting this title, is made on Lebanon; but it will not, unfortunately, +bear exportation, and even materially suffers in the voyage from the +coast to Alexandria.] + +[Footnote 76: page 221.--_And the company of gardeners_. These gardeners +of the Serail form a very efficient body of police.] + +[Footnote 77: page 226.--Alroy retired to the bath. The bath is a +principal scene of Oriental life. Here the Asiatics pass a great portion +of their day. The bath consists of a long suite of chambers of various +temperatures, in which the different processes of the elaborate ceremony +are performed.] + +[Footnote 78: page 232.--_We are the watchers of the moon._ The feast of +the New Moon is one of the most important festivals of the Hebrews. +‘Our year,’ says the learned author of the ‘Rites and Ceremonies,’ ‘is +divided into twelve lunar months, some of which consist of twenty-nine, +others of thirty days, which difference is occasioned by the various +appearance of the new moon, in point of time: for if it appeared on the +30th day, the 29th was the last day of the precedent month; but if it +did not appear till the 31st day, the 30th was the last day, and the +31st the first of the subsequent month; and that was an intercalary +moon, of all which take the following account. + +‘Our nation heretofore, not only observing the rules of some fixed +calculation, also celebrated the feast of the New Moon, according to +the phasis or first appearance of the moon, which was done in compliance +with God’s command, as our received traditions inform us. + +‘Hence it came to pass that the first appearance was not to be +determined only by rules of art, but also by the testimony of such +persons as deposed before the Sanhedrim, or Great Senate, that they had +seen the New Moon. So a committee of three were appointed from among the +said Sanhedrim to receive the deposition of the parties aforesaid, +who, after having calculated what time the moon might possibly appear, +despatched some persons _into high and mountainous places, to observe +and give their evidence accordingly, concerning the first appearance of +the moon._ + +‘As soon as the new moon was either consecrated or appointed to be +observed, notice was given by the Sanhedrim to the rest of the nation +what day had been fixed for the New Moon, or first day of the month, +because that was to be the rule and measure according to which they were +obliged to keep their feasts and fasts in every month respectively. + +‘This notice was given to them in time of peace, _by firing of beacons, +set up for that purpose,_ which was looked upon as the readiest way +of communication, but, in time of war, when all places were full of +enemies, who made use of beacons to amuse our nation with, it was +thought fit to discontinue it.’] + +[Footnote 79: page 263.--_The women chatted at the fountain_. The bath +and the fountain are the favourite scenes of feminine conversation.] + +[Footnote 80: page 264.--_Playing chess._ On the walls of the palace of +Amenoph the Second, called Medeenet Abuh, at Egyptian Thebes, the King +is represented playing chess with the Queen. This monarch reigned long +before the Trojan war.] + +[Footnote 81: page 272.--_Impaled._ A friend of mine witnessed this +horrible punishment in Upper Egypt. The victim was a man who had +secretly murdered nine persons. He held an official post, and invited +travellers and pilgrims to his house, whom he regularly disposed of +and plundered. I regret that I have mislaid his MS. account of the +ceremony.] + +[Footnote 82: page 299.--In the _Germen Davidis of Gants_, translated +into Latin by Vorstius, Lug. 1654, is an extract from a Hebrew MS. +containing an account of Alroy. I subjoin a translation of a passage +respecting his death. + +R. Maimonides deposes: That the Sultan asked him whether he were the +Messiah, and that he answered him, “I am”; and that then the monarch +inquired of him what sign he had. To this he replied that they might cut +off his head and that he would return to life. Then the King commanded +that his head should be cut off, and he died, having said previously +to the monarch that the latter should not lack in his life the most +grievous torments. + +Seven years before the incident quoted above, the Israelites had serious +troubles on account of a son of Belial who called himself the Messiah, +so that the tetrarch and the princes were justly incensed against the +Jews, to such an extent, indeed, that they sent to the latter to inquire +whether they desired the reign of the Messiah. The name of this accursed +troubler was David El-David, _alias_ Alroy, who hailed from the city +of Omadia, where were gathered about a thousand rich, honest, happy and +decently-living families, whose tabernacle was the principal resort +of those that dwelt in the neighbourhood of the river Sabbathion; and +around them were gathered more than a hundred minor tabernacles. + +This city was on the border of the region of Media, and the dialect +used there was the Targum. Thence to the region of Golan is a journey +of fifty days. It is under the rule of Persia, to which it pays a +heavy tribute every fifteen years, and one golden talent in addition. +Moreover, this man David El-David was educated under the Prince of the +Chaldean captivity, in the care of the eminent Scholiarch, in the city +of Bagdad, who was preeminently wise in the Talmud and in all foreign +sciences, as well as in all books of divination, magic, and Chaldean +lore; This David El-David, out of the boldness and arrogance of his +heart, lifted his hand against the ruling powers, and collected those +Jews who dwelt in the neighbourhood of Mount Chophtan, seducing them to +follow him into battle against all the neighbouring peoples. He showed +them signs-of what value they knew not: there were men, indeed, who +supported him on account of his magic art and of certain things to be +done; others said that his great power came from the hand of God. Those +who flocked to him called him the Messiah, lauding and extolling him. + +In another epoch of Persian history a certain Jew arose, calling himself +the Messiah, and prospered greatly. A large part of the Israelitish +population believed in him. But when the King indeed heard of all this +pretender’s power, and that he proposed to join battle with him, he sent +to the Jews who lived thereabouts and notified them that unless they +deserted this man, and came oui; from all association with him, they +certainly should be slain, every one of them, with the sword, and +afterward the children and the women should perish. Then the whole +population of Israel assembled, and argued with this man, and threw +themselves down before him on the ground, strongly supplicating him, +with clamour and tears, to depart from them. Why, indeed, should he +put them and others in danger? Had not the King already sworn that they +should perish by the sword, and wherefore should he bring affliction +upon all the Jewish inhabitants of Persia? Responding, he said: “I have +come to serve you, and ye will not have me. Whom do ye fear? Who dares +stand in front of me, and what doth this Persian King that he dare not +oppose me and my sword?” The Jews asked him what sign he had that he +was the Messiah. He answered: “My mission prospers: the Messiah needs no +other sign.” They answered that many had acted likewise, and that none +had reached success. Then he drove them forth from his face with superb +indignation.] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alroy, by Benjamin Disraeli + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALROY *** + +***** This file should be named 20002-0.txt or 20002-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/0/0/20002/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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