CHAPTER XXXI

  The old man kept his promise. Every day to the prince's palace inPi-Bast came crowds of slaves and long rows of asses bearing wheat,barley, dried meat, woven stuffs, and wine. Phoenician merchantsbrought gold and precious stones under inspection of Hiram'sassistants.

  In this manner the heir received in the course of five days thehundred talents promised. Hiram accounted a lower per cent tohimself,--one talent for four, in a year. He asked no pledge, but wassatisfied with the receipt of the prince, certified before a tribunal.

  The needs of the court were satisfied bountifully. Three favorites ofthe viceroy received new robes, a number of special perfumes, andfemale slaves of various colors. The servants had abundance of foodand wine, the pharaoh's laborers received arrears of pay, unusualrations were issued to the army.

  The court was delighted, the more since Tutmosis and other nobleyouths, at the command of Hiram, received rather large loans, whilethe nomarch of Habu and his higher officials received costly presents.

  So feast followed feast and amusement amusement, though the heatincreased always. Seeing this general delight, the viceroy wassatisfied. He was troubled, however, by the bearing of Mefres andother priests. Rameses thought that those dignitaries would reproachhim for having become so indebted to Hiram in spite of those lessonswhich he had received in the temple. Meanwhile the holy fathers weresilent and did not even show themselves.

  "What does this mean?" asked the prince one day of Tutmosis; "thepriests do not reproach us? We have never indulged in such excessesbefore. Music is sounding from morning till evening; we drink,beginning with sunrise, and we fall asleep with women in our arms orpitchers at our heads."

  "Why should they reproach us?" answered the indignant Tutmosis. "Arewe not sojourning in the city of Astarte,[16] for whom amusement isthe most pleasing service, and love the most coveted sacrifice?Moreover the priests understand that after such privations and fastsrest is due thee."

  [16] Astaroth.

  "Have they said anything?" asked the prince, with disquiet.

  "Yes, more than once. Only yesterday the holy Mefres smiled, and saidthat amusement attracted a young man like thee more than religion orthe labor of ruling a state."

  Rameses fell to thinking,--

  "So the priests looked on him as a frivolous stripling, though he,thanks to Sarah, would become a father to-day or to-morrow. But theywould have a surprise when he spoke to them in his own manner."

  In truth the prince reproached himself somewhat. From the time that heleft the temple of Hator he had not occupied himself one day with theaffairs of Habu. The priests might suppose that he was either entirelysatisfied with Pentuer's explanations, or that he was tired ofinterfering in government.

  "So much the better!" whispered he. "So much the better!"

  Under the influence of the endless intrigues of those around him, orsuspicious of those intrigues, the instinct to deceive began in hisyoung spirit to rouse itself. Rameses felt that the priests did notdivine the subject of his conversation with Hiram, nor the planswhich were forming in his head. It sufficed those blinded persons,that he was amusing himself; from this they inferred that themanagement of the state would remain in their hands forever.

  "Have the gods so darkened their minds," thought Rameses, "that theydo not even ask themselves why Hiram gave me a loan so considerable?And perhaps that crafty Tyrian has been able to lull their suspicioushearts? So much the better! So much the better!"

  He had a marvellously agreeable feeling when he thought that thepriests had blundered. He determined to keep them in that blunder forthe future; hence he amused himself madly.

  Indeed the priests were mistaken, both in Rameses and Hiram. Theartful Tyrian gave himself out before them as very proud of hisrelations with Rameses, and the prince with no less success played therole of a riotous stripling.

  Mefres was even convinced that the prince was thinking seriously ofexpelling the Phoenicians, that meanwhile he and his courtiers werecontracting debts and would never pay them.

  But the temple of Astaroth with its numerous courts and gardens wasfilled with devotees all the time. Every day, if not every hour,though the heat was excessive, some company of pilgrims to the greatgoddess arrived from the depth of Asia.

  Those were strange pilgrims. Wearied, streaming with perspiration,covered with dust, they advanced with music, and dancing, and songssometimes of a very lewd character. The day passed for them inunbridled license in honor of the goddess. It was possible not only torecognize every such company from afar, but to catch its odor, sincethose people always brought immense bouquets of fresh flowers in theirhands, and in bundles all the male cats that had died in the course ofthe current year. The devotees gave these cats to dissectors inPi-Bast to be stuffed or embalmed, and bore them home later on asvalued relics.

  On the first day of the month Mesori (May-June), Prince Hiram informedRameses that he might appear at the temple of Astaroth that evening.When it had grown dark on the streets after sunset, the viceroygirded a short sword to his side, put on a mantle with a hood, andunobserved by any servant, slipped away to the house of Hiram.

  The old magnate was waiting for the viceroy.

  "Well," said he, with a smile, "art thou not afraid, prince, to entera Phoenician temple where cruelty sits on the altar and perversityministers?"

  "Fear?" repeated Rameses, looking at him almost contemptuously."Astaroth is not Baal, nor am I a child which they might throw intoyour god's red-hot belly."

  "But does the prince believe this story?"

  Rameses shrugged his shoulders.

  "An eyewitness and a trustworthy person," answered he, "told me how yesacrifice children. Once a storm wrecked a number of tens of yourvessels. Immediately the Tyrian priests announced a religious ceremonyat which throngs of people collected." The prince spoke with evidentindignation. "Before the temple of Baal situated on a lofty place wasan immense bronze statue with the head of a bull. Its belly was redhot. At command of your priests the foolish Phoenician mothers puttheir most beautiful children at the feet of this cruel divinity--"

  "Only boys," interrupted Hiram.

  "Only boys," continued Rameses. "The priests sprinkled each boy withperfumes, decked him with flowers, and then the statue seized him withbronze hands, opened its jaws, and devoured the child, whose screamsmeanwhile were heaven-piercing. Flames burst each time from the mouthof the deity."

  Hiram laughed in silence.

  "And dost thou believe this, worthiness?"

  "I repeat what a man told me who has never lied."

  "He told what he saw. But did it not surprise him that no mother whosechildren they burned was weeping?"

  "He was astonished, indeed, at such indifference in women, since theyare always ready to shed tears even over a dead hen. But it showsgreat cruelty in your people."

  The old Phoenician nodded.

  "Was that long ago?" asked he.

  "A few years."

  "Well," said Hiram, deliberately, "shouldst thou wish to visit Tyresome day, I shall have the honor to show thee a solemnity like thatone."

  "I have no wish to see it."

  "After the ceremony we shall go to another court of the temple, wherethe prince will see a very fine school, and in it, healthy andgladsome, those very same boys who were burnt a few years ago."

  "How is that?" exclaimed Rameses; "then did they not perish?"

  "They are living, and growing up to be sturdy mariners. When thoushall be pharaoh,--mayst thou live through eternity!--perhaps morethan one of them will be sailing thy ships."

  "Then ye deceive your people?" laughed the prince.

  "We deceive no one," answered the Tyrian, with dignity. "Each mandeceives himself when he does not seek the explanation of a solemnitywhich he does not understand."

  "I am curious," said Rameses.

  "In fact," continued Hiram, "we have a custom that indigent motherswishing to assure their sons a good career give them to the service of
the state. In reality, those children are taken across the statue ofBaal, in which there is a heated stove. This ceremony does not meanthat the children are really burnt, but that they have been given tothe temple, and so are as much lost to their mothers as if they hadfallen into fire.

  "In truth, however, they do not go to the stove, but to nurses andwomen who rear them for some years. When they have grown upsufficiently, the school of priests of Baal receives and educatesthem. The most competent become priests or officials; the less giftedgo to the navy and obtain great wealth frequently. Now I think theprince will not wonder that Tyrian mothers do not mourn for theirchildren. I will say more: thou wilt understand, lord, why there is nopunishment for parents who kill their children, as there is in Egypt."

  "Wretches are found in all lands," replied the prince.

  "But there is no child murder in our country," continued Hiram, "forwith us children, when their mothers are unable to support them, aretaken to the temple by the state."

  The prince fell to thinking; suddenly he embraced Hiram, and said withemotion,--

  "Ye are much better than those who tell tales of you. I am greatlyrejoiced at this."

  "Among us, too, there is no little evil," answered Hiram; "but we areall ready to be thy faithful servants shouldst thou call us."

  "Is this true?" asked the prince, looking him in the eyes.

  The old man put his hand on his heart.

  "I swear to thee, O heir to the throne of Egypt and future pharaoh,that if thou begin at any time a struggle with our common enemy,Phoenicia will hasten as one man to assist thee.--But receive this asa reminder of our conversation."

  He drew from beneath his robe a gold medal covered with mysteriouscharacters, and, muttering a prayer, hung it on the neck of PrinceRameses.

  "With this amulet," continued Hiram, "thou mayst travel the wholeworld through, and if thou meet a Phoenician he will serve thee withadvice, with gold, with his sword even. But now let us go."

  Some hours had passed since sunset, but the night was clear, for themoon had risen. The terrible heat of the day had yielded to coolness.In the pure air was floating no longer that gray dust which bit theeyes and poisoned respiration. In the blue sky here and there twinkledstars which were lost in the deluge of moonbeams.

  Movement had stopped on the streets, but the roofs of all the houseswere filled with people occupied in amusement. Pi-Bast seemed fromedge to edge to be one hall filled with music, singing, laughter, andthe sound of goblets.

  The prince and the Phoenician went speedily to the suburbs, choosingthe less lighted sides of the streets. Still, people feasting onterraces saw them at intervals, and invited them up, or cast flowersdown on their heads.

  "Hei, ye strollers!" cried they, from the roofs. "If ye are notthieves called out by the night to snatch booty, come hither, come upto us. We have good wine and gladsome women."

  The two wanderers made no answer to those hospitable invitations; theyhurried on in their own way. At last they came to a quarter where thehouses were fewer, the gardens more frequent, the trees, thanks todamp sea-breezes, more luxuriant and higher than in the southernprovinces of Egypt.

  "It is not far now," said Hiram.

  The prince raised his eyes, and over the dense green of trees he saw asquare tower of blue color; on it a more slender tower, which waswhite. This was the temple of Astaroth. Soon they entered the garden,whence they could take in at a glance the whole building.

  It was composed of a number of stories. The top of the lowest was asquare platform with sides four hundred yards long; its walls were afew metres high, and all of black color. At the eastern side was aprojection to which came two wide stairways. Along the other threesides of this first story were small towers, ten on each side; betweeneach pair of towers were five windows.

  More or less in the centre of this lowest platform rose a quadrangularbuilding with sides two hundred yards long. This had a singlestairway, towers at the corners, and was purple. On the top of thisbuilding was another of golden color, and above it, one upon theother, two towers--one blue, the other white.

  The whole building looked as if some power had placed on the earth oneenormous black dice, on it a smaller one of purple, on that a goldenone, on that a blue, and, highest of all, a silver dice. To each ofthese elevations stairs led, either double flights along the sides orsingle front stairs, always on the eastern walls.

  At the sides of the stairs and doors stood, alternately, greatEgyptian sphinxes, or winged Assyrian human-headed bulls.

  The viceroy looked with delight at this edifice, which in themoonlight and against the background of rich vegetation had an aspectof marvellous beauty. It was built in Chaldean style, and differedessentially from the temples of Egypt, first, by the system ofstories, second, by the perpendicular walls. Among the Egyptiansevery great building had sloping sides receding inward as they rose.

  The garden was not empty. At various points small villas and houseswere visible, lights were flashing, songs and music were heard. Fromtime to time among trees appeared shadows of loving couples.

  All at once an old priest approached them, exchanged a few words withHiram, and said to the prince with a low obeisance,--

  "Be pleased, lord, to come with me."

  "And may the gods watch over thee, worthiness," added Hiram, as heleft him.

  Rameses followed the priest. Somewhat aside from the temple, in thethickest of the grove, was a stone bench, and perhaps a hundred rodsfrom it a villa of no great size at which was heard singing.

  "Are people praying there?" asked the prince.

  "No," answered the priest, without concealing his dislike; "at thathouse assemble the worshippers of Kama, our priestess who guards thefire before the altar of Astaroth."

  "Whom does she receive to-day?"

  "No one at any time," answered the guide, offended. "Were thepriestess of the fire not to observe her vow of chastity she wouldhave to die."

  "A cruel law," observed Rameses.

  "Be pleased, lord, to wait at this bench," said the Phoenician priest,coldly; "but on hearing three blows against the bronze plate, go tothe temple, ascend to the first platform, and thence to the purplestory."

  "Alone?"

  "Yes."

  The prince sat down on the bench, in the shadow of an olive-tree, andheard the laughter of women in the villa.

  "Kama," thought he, "is a pretty name. She must be young, and perhapsbeautiful, and those dull Phoenicians threaten her with death. Do theywish in this way to assure themselves even a few virgins in the wholecountry?"

  He laughed, but was sad. It was uncertain why he pitied that unknownwoman for whom love would be a passage to the grave.

  "I can imagine to myself Tutmosis if he were appointed priestess ofAstaroth," thought Rameses. "He would have to die, poor fellow, beforehe could light one lamp before the face of the goddess."

  At that moment; a flute was heard in the villa, and some one played aplaintive air, which was accompanied by female singers, "Aha-a!aha-a!" as in the lullaby of infants.

  The flute stopped, the women were silent, and a splendid male voicewas heard, in the Greek language:--

  "When thy robe gleams on the terrace, the stars pale and thenightingales cease to sing, but in my heart there is stillness likethat which is on earth when the clear dawn salutes it--"

  "Aha-a! aha-a!" continued the women. The flute played again.

  "When thou goest to the temple, violets surround thee in a cloud offragrance, butterflies circle near thy lips, palms bend their heads tothy beauty."

  "Aha-a! aha-a!--"

  "When thou art not before me, I look to the skies to recall the sweetcalm of thy features. Vain labor! The heavens have no calm like thine,and their heat is cold when compared with the flame which is turningmy heart into ashes."

  "Aha-a! aha-a!--"

  "One day I stood among roses, which the gleam of thy glances clothe inwhite, gold, and scarlet. Each leaf of them reminded me of one hour,each blossom of on
e month passed at thy feet. The drops of dew are mytears, which are drunk by the merciless wind of the desert.

  "Give a sign; I will seize thee, I will bear thee away to mybirthplace, beloved. The sea will divide us from pursuers, myrtlegroves will conceal our fondling, and gods, more compassionate towardlovers, will watch over our happiness."

  "Aha-a! aha-a!--"

  The prince dropped his eyelids and imagined. Through his droopinglashes he could not see the garden, he saw only the flood of moonlightin which were mingled shadows and the song of the unknown man to theunknown woman. At instants that song seized him to such a degree, andforced itself into his spirit so deeply, that Rameses wished to ask:"Am I not the singer myself? nay, am I not that love song?"

  At this moment his title, his power, the burdensome problems of state,all seemed to him mean, insignificant in comparison with thatmoonlight and those calls of a heart which is enamored. If the choicehad been given him to take the whole power of the pharaoh, or thatspiritual condition in which he then found himself, he would havepreferred that dreaming, in which the whole world, he himself, eventime, disappeared, leaving nothing behind but desire, which was nowrushing forth to infinity borne on the wings of song and of music.

  Meanwhile the prince recovered, the song had ended, the lights in thevilla had vanished, the white walls, the dark vacant windows weresharply outlined. One might have thought that no person had ever beenin that house there. The garden was deserted and silent, even theslight breath of air stirred the leaves no longer.

  One! two! three!--From the temple were heard three mighty sounds frombronze.

  "Ah! I must go," thought the prince, not knowing well whither he wasto go or for what purpose.

  He turned, however, in the direction of the temple, the silver towerof which rose above the trees as if summoning him.

  He went as in a trance, filled with strange wishes. Among the trees itwas narrow for him; he wished to ascend to the top of that tower, todraw breath, to take in with his glance some wider horizon. Again heremembered that it was the month Mesori, that a year had passed sincethe manoeuvres; he felt a yearning for the desert. How gladly would hemount his light chariot drawn by two horses, and fly away to someplace where it was not so stifling, and trees did not hide thehorizon!

  He was at the steps of the temple, so he mounted to the platform. Itwas quiet and empty there, as if all had died; but from afar the waterof a fountain was murmuring. At the second stairway he threw aside hisburnous and sword; once more he looked at the garden, as if he weresorry to leave the moonlight behind, and entered the temple. Therewere three stories above him.

  The bronze doors were open; at both sides of the entrance stood wingedfigures of bulls with human heads; on the faces of these was dignifiedcalmness.

  "Those are kings of Assyria," thought the prince, looking at theirbeards plaited in tiny tresses.

  The interior of the temple was as black as night when 'tis blackest.The darkness was intensified more by white streaks of moonlightfalling in through narrow high windows.

  In the depth of the temple two lamps were burning before the statue ofAstaroth. Some strange illumination from above caused the statue to beperfectly visible. Rameses gazed at it. That was a gigantic woman withthe wings of an ostrich. She wore a long robe in folds; on her headwas a pointed cap, in her right hand she held a pair of doves. On herbeautiful face and in her downcast eyes was an expression of suchsweetness and innocence that astonishment seized the prince, for shewas the patroness of revenge and of license the most unbridled.

  "Phoenicia has shown me one more of her secrets. A strange people,"thought Rameses. "Their man-eating gods do not eat, and their lewdnessis guarded by virgin priestesses and by a goddess with an innocentface."

  Thereupon he felt that something had slipped across his feet quickly,as it were a great serpent. Rameses drew back and stood in the streakof moonlight.

  "A vision!" said he to himself.

  Almost at that moment he heard a whisper,--

  "Rameses! Rameses!"

  It was impossible to discover whether that was a man's or a woman'svoice, or whence it issued.

  "Rameses! Rameses!" was heard a whisper, as if from the ceiling.

  The prince went to an unilluminated place and, while looking, bentdown.

  All at once he felt two delicate hands on his head.

  He sprang up to grasp them, but caught only air.

  "Rameses!" was whispered from above.

  He raised his head, and felt on his lips a lotus flower; and when hestretched his hands to it some one leaned on his arm lightly.

  "Rameses!" called a voice from the altar.

  The prince turned and was astounded. In the streak of light, a coupleof steps distant, stood a most beautiful man, absolutely like the heirto the throne of Egypt. The same face, eyes, youthful stature, thesame posture, movements, and dress.

  The prince thought for a while that he was before some greatmirror,--such a mirror as even the pharaoh could not have. But soon heconvinced himself that his second was a living man, not a picture.

  At that moment he felt a kiss on his neck. Again he turned, but therewas no one; meanwhile his second self vanished.

  "Who is here? I wish to know!" cried the angry prince.

  "It is I--Kama," answered a sweet voice.

  And in the strip of light appeared, a most beautiful woman, naked,with a golden girdle around her waist.

  Rameses ran up and seized her by the hands. She did not flee.

  "Art thou Kama?--No, thou art-- Yes, Dagon sent thee on a time, butthen thou didst call thyself Fondling."

  "But I am Fondling, too," replied she, naively.

  "Is it thou who hast touched me with thy hands?"

  "I."

  "How?"

  "Ao! in this way," answered she, throwing her arms around his neck,and kissing him.

  Rameses seized her in his arms, but she tore herself free with a forcewhich no one could have suspected in such a slight figure.

  "Art thou then the priestess Kama? Was it to thee that that Greek sangto-night?" asked the prince, pressing her hands passionately. "Whatsort of man is that singer?"

  Kama shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.

  "He is attached to our temple," was the answer.

  Rameses' eyes flamed, his nostrils dilated, there was a roaring inhis head. That same woman a few months before had made on him only aslight impression; but to-day he was ready to commit some mad deedbecause of her. He envied the Greek, and felt also indescribablesorrow at the thought that if she became his she must perish.

  "How beautiful thou art," said he. "Where dost thou dwell? Ah, I know;in that villa. Is it possible to visit thee?--Of course it is. If thoureceive singers, thou must receive me. Art thou really the priestessguarding the fire of this temple?"

  "I am."

  "And are the laws so severe that they do not permit thee to love? Ei,those are threats! For me thou wilt make exception."

  "All Phoenicia would curse me; the gods would take vengeance," repliedshe, with a smile.

  Rameses drew her again toward him; again she tore herself free.

  "Have a care, prince," said she, with a challenging look. "Phoeniciais mighty, and her gods--"

  "What care I for thy gods or Phoenicia? Were a hair to fall from thyhead, I would trample Phoenicia as I might a foul reptile."

  "Kama! Kama!" called a voice from the statue.

  She was frightened.

  "Thou seest they call me. They may have heard thy blaspheming."

  "They may have heard my anger."

  "The anger of the gods is more terrible."

  She tore away and vanished in the darkness of the temple. Ramesesrushed after her, but was pushed back on a sudden. The whole templebetween him and the altar was filled with an immense bloody flame, inwhich monstrous figures appeared,--huge bats, reptiles with humanheads, shades--

  The flame advanced toward him directly across the whole width of thebuilding; and, amazed by t
his sight, which was new to him, the princeretreated. All at once fresh air was around him. He turned hishead--he was outside the temple, and that instant the bronze doorsclosed with a crash behind him.

  He rubbed his eyes, he looked around. The moon from the highest pointin the heavens had lowered toward the west. At the side of the columnRameses found his sword and burnous. He raised them, and moved downthe steps like a drunken man.

  When he returned to his palace at a late hour, Tutmosis, on seeing hispale face and troubled look, cried with alarm,--

  "By the gods! where hast thou been, Erpatr? Thy whole court is alarmedand sleepless."

  "I was looking at the city. The night is beautiful."

  "Dost thou know," added Tutmosis, hurriedly, as if fearing that someone else might anticipate him, "that Sarah has given thee a son?"

  "Indeed?--I wish no one in the retinue to be alarmed when I go out towalk."

  "Alone?"

  "If I could not go out alone when it pleases me, I should be the mostwretched slave in Egypt," said Rameses, bitterly.

  He gave his sword and burnous to Tutmosis, and went to his bedroomwithout calling any one. Yesterday the birth of a son would havefilled him with gladness; but at that moment he received the news withindifference. His whole soul was occupied with the thought of thatevening, the most wonderful in all his life experience. He still sawthe light of the moon; in his ears the song of the Greek was stillsounding. But that temple of Astaroth!

  He could not sleep till morning.