CHAPTER II
With the foregoing explanation in mind, the reader is invited tolook into one of the gardens of the palace on Mount Zion. The timewas noonday in the middle of July, when the heat of summer was atits highest.
The garden was bounded on every side by buildings, which inplaces arose two stories, with verandas shading the doorsand windows of the lower story, while retreating galleries,guarded by strong balustrades, adorned and protected the upper.Here and there, moreover, the structures fell into what appearedlow colonnades, permitting the passage of such winds as chanced toblow, and allowing other parts of the house to be seen, the better torealize its magnitude and beauty. The arrangement of the ground wasequally pleasant to the eye. There were walks, and patches of grassand shrubbery, and a few large trees, rare specimens of the palm,grouped with the carob, apricot, and walnut. In all directions thegrade sloped gently from the centre, where there was a reservoir,or deep marble basin, broken at intervals by little gates which,when raised, emptied the water into sluices bordering the walks--acunning device for the rescue of the place from the aridity tooprevalent elsewhere in the region.
Not far from the fountain, there was a small pool of clear waternourishing a clump of cane and oleander, such as grow on theJordan and down by the Dead Sea. Between the clump and the pool,unmindful of the sun shining full upon them in the breathless air,two boys, one about nineteen, the other seventeen, sat engaged inearnest conversation.
They were both handsome, and, at first glance, would have beenpronounced brothers. Both had hair and eyes black; their faceswere deeply browned; and, sitting, they seemed of a size properfor the difference in their ages.
The elder was bareheaded. A loose tunic, dropping to the knees,was his attire complete, except sandals and a light-blue mantlespread under him on the seat. The costume left his arms and legsexposed, and they were brown as the face; nevertheless, a certaingrace of manner, refinement of features, and culture of voice decidedhis rank. The tunic, of softest woollen, gray-tinted, at the neck,sleeves, and edge of the skirt bordered with red, and bound to thewaist by a tasselled silken cord, certified him the Roman he was.And if in speech he now and then gazed haughtily at his companionand addressed him as an inferior, he might almost be excused, for hewas of a family noble even in Rome--a circumstance which in thatage justified any assumption. In the terrible wars between thefirst Caesar and his great enemies, a Messala had been the friendof Brutus. After Philippi, without sacrifice of his honor, he andthe conqueror became reconciled. Yet later, when Octavius disputedfor the empire, Messala supported him. Octavius, as the EmperorAugustus, remembered the service, and showered the family withhonors. Among other things, Judea being reduced to a province,he sent the son of his old client or retainer to Jerusalem,charged with the receipt and management of the taxes leviedin that region; and in that service the son had since remained,sharing the palace with the high-priest. The youth just describedwas his son, whose habit it was to carry about with him all toofaithfully a remembrance of the relation between his grandfatherand the great Romans of his day.
The associate of the Messala was slighter in form, and hisgarments were of fine white linen and of the prevalent stylein Jerusalem; a cloth covered his head, held by a yellow cord,and arranged so as to fall away from the forehead down low overthe back of the neck. An observer skilled in the distinctions ofrace, and studying his features more than his costume, would havesoon discovered him to be of Jewish descent. The forehead of theRoman was high and narrow, his nose sharp and aquiline, while hislips were thin and straight, and his eyes cold and close underthe brows. The front of the Israelite, on the other hand, was lowand broad; his nose long, with expanded nostrils; his upper lip,slightly shading the lower one, short and curving to the dimpledcorners, like a Cupid's bow; points which, in connection with theround chin, full eyes, and oval cheeks reddened with a wine-likeglow, gave his face the softness, strength, and beauty peculiarto his race. The comeliness of the Roman was severe and chaste,that of the Jew rich and voluptuous.
"Did you not say the new procurator is to arrive to-morrow?"
The question proceeded from the younger of the friends, and was couchedin Greek, at the time, singularly enough, the language everywhereprevalent in the politer circles of Judea; having passed from thepalace into the camp and college; thence, nobody knew exactly whenor how, into the Temple itself, and, for that matter, into precinctsof the Temple far beyond the gates and cloisters--precincts of asanctity intolerable for a Gentile.
"Yes, to-morrow," Messala answered.
"Who told you?"
"I heard Ishmael, the new governor in the palace--you call himhigh priest--tell my father so last night. The news had beenmore credible, I grant you, coming from an Egyptian, who is of arace that has forgotten what truth is, or even from an Idumaean,whose people never knew what truth was; but, to make quite certain,I saw a centurion from the Tower this morning, and he told mepreparations were going on for the reception; that the armorerswere furbishing the helmets and shields, and regilding the eaglesand globes; and that apartments long unused were being cleansedand aired as if for an addition to the garrison--the body-guard,probably, of the great man."
A perfect idea of the manner in which the answer was given cannotbe conveyed, as its fine points continually escape the power behindthe pen. The reader's fancy must come to his aid; and for that hemust be reminded that reverence as a quality of the Roman mind wasfast breaking down, or, rather, it was becoming unfashionable.The old religion had nearly ceased to be a faith; at most it wasa mere habit of thought and expression, cherished principally bythe priests who found service in the Temple profitable, and thepoets who, in the turn of their verses, could not dispense with thefamiliar deities: there are singers of this age who are similarlygiven. As philosophy was taking the place of religion, satire wasfast substituting reverence; insomuch that in Latin opinion it wasto every speech, even to the little diatribes of conversation, assalt to viands, and aroma to wine. The young Messala, educated inRome, but lately returned, had caught the habit and manner;the scarce perceptible movement of the outer corner of thelower eyelid, the decided curl of the corresponding nostril,and a languid utterance affected as the best vehicle to conveythe idea of general indifference, but more particularly becauseof the opportunities it afforded for certain rhetorical pausesthought to be of prime importance to enable the listener to takethe happy conceit or receive the virus of the stinging epigram.Such a stop occurred in the answer just given, at the end of theallusion to the Egyptian and Idumaean. The color in the Jewishlad's cheeks deepened, and he may not have heard the rest of thespeech, for he remained silent, looking absently into the depthsof the pool.
"Our farewell took place in this garden. 'The peace of the Lord gowith you!'--your last words. 'The gods keep you!' I said. Do youremember? How many years have passed since then?"
"Five," answered the Jew, gazing into the water.
"Well, you have reason to be thankful to--whom shall I say? Thegods? No matter. You have grown handsome; the Greeks would callyou beautiful--happy achievement of the years! If Jupiter wouldstay content with one Ganymede, what a cup-bearer you would makefor the emperor! Tell me, my Judah, how the coming of the procuratoris of such interest to you."
Judah bent his large eyes upon the questioner; the gaze wasgrave and thoughtful, and caught the Roman's, and held itwhile he replied, "Yes, five years. I remember the parting;you went to Rome; I saw you start, and cried, for I love you.The years are gone, and you have come back to me accomplishedand princely--I do not jest; and yet--yet--I do wish you werethe Messala you went away."
The fine nostril of the satirist stirred, and he put on a longerdrawl as he said, "No, no; not a Ganymede--an oracle, my Judah.A few lessons from my teacher of rhetoric hard by the Forum--Iwill give you a letter to him when you become wise enough toaccept a suggestion which I am reminded to make you--a littlepractise of the art of mystery, and Delphi will receive you asApollo himself. At the sound of your solemn voice,
the Pythiawill come down to you with her crown. Seriously, O my friend,in what am I not the Messala I went away? I once heard thegreatest logician in the world. His subject was Disputation.One saying I remember--'Understand your antagonist before youanswer him.' Let me understand you."
The lad reddened under the cynical look to which he was subjected;yet he replied, firmly, "You have availed yourself, I see, of youropportunities; from your teachers you have brought away muchknowledge and many graces. You talk with the ease of a master,yet your speech carries a sting. My Messala, when he went away,had no poison in his nature; not for the world would he have hurtthe feelings of a friend."
The Roman smiled as if complimented, and raised his patrician heada toss higher.
"O my solemn Judah, we are not at Dodona or Pytho. Drop the oracular,and be plain. Wherein have I hurt you?"
The other drew a long breath, and said, pulling at the cord abouthis waist, "In the five years, I, too, have learned somewhat.Hillel may not be the equal of the logician you heard, and Simeonand Shammai are, no doubt, inferior to your master hard by the Forum.Their learning goes not out into forbidden paths; those who sit attheir feet arise enriched simply with knowledge of God, the law,and Israel; and the effect is love and reverence for everythingthat pertains to them. Attendance at the Great College, and studyof what I heard there, have taught me that Judea is not as sheused to be. I know the space that lies between an independentkingdom and the petty province Judea is. I were meaner, viler,than a Samaritan not to resent the degradation of my country.Ishmael is not lawfully high-priest, and he cannot be while thenoble Hannas lives; yet he is a Levite; one of the devoted whofor thousands of years have acceptably served the Lord God ofour faith and worship. His--"
Messala broke in upon him with a biting laugh.
"Oh, I understand you now. Ishmael, you say, is a usurper, yet tobelieve an Idumaean sooner than Ishmael is to sting like an adder.By the drunken son of Semele, what it is to be a Jew! All men andthings, even heaven and earth, change; but a Jew never. To himthere is no backward, no forward; he is what his ancestor wasin the beginning. In this sand I draw you a circle--there! Nowtell me what more a Jew's life is? Round and round, Abraham here,Isaac and Jacob yonder, God in the middle. And the circle--by themaster of all thunders! the circle is too large. I draw it again--"He stopped, put his thumb upon the ground, and swept the fingersabout it. "See, the thumb spot is the Temple, the finger-linesJudea. Outside the little space is there nothing of value? Thearts! Herod was a builder; therefore he is accursed. Painting,sculpture! to look upon them is sin. Poetry you make fast to youraltars. Except in the synagogue, who of you attempts eloquence?In war all you conquer in the six days you lose on the seventh.Such your life and limit; who shall say no if I laugh at you?Satisfied with the worship of such a people, what is your Godto our Roman Jove, who lends us his eagles that we may compass theuniverse with our arms? Hillel, Simeon, Shammai, Abtalion--what arethey to the masters who teach that everything is worth knowing thatcan be known?"
The Jew arose, his face much flushed.
"No, no; keep your place, my Judah, keep your place," Messala cried,extending his hand.
"You mock me."
"Listen a little further. Directly"--the Roman smiledderisively--"directly Jupiter and his whole family, Greek and Latin,will come to me, as is their habit, and make an end of serious speech.I am mindful of your goodness in walking from the old house of yourfathers to welcome me back and renew the love of our childhood--ifwe can. 'Go,' said my teacher, in his last lecture--'Go, and,to make your lives great, remember Mars reigns and Eros has foundhis eyes.' He meant love is nothing, war everything. It is soin Rome. Marriage is the first step to divorce. Virtue is atradesman's jewel. Cleopatra, dying, bequeathed her arts, and isavenged; she has a successor in every Roman's house. The world isgoing the same way; so, as to our future, down Eros, up Mars! I amto be a soldier; and you, O my Judah, I pity you; what can you be?"
The Jew moved nearer the pool; Messala's drawl deepened.
"Yes, I pity you, my fine Judah. From the college to the synagogue;then to the Temple; then--oh, a crowning glory!--the seat in theSanhedrim. A life without opportunities; the gods help you! ButI--"
Judah looked at him in time to see the flush of pride that kindledin his haughty face as he went on.
"But I--ah, the world is not all conquered. The sea has islandsunseen. In the north there are nations yet unvisited. The gloryof completing Alexander's march to the Far East remains to someone. See what possibilities lie before a Roman."
Next instant he resumed his drawl.
"A campaign into Africa; another after the Scythian; then--a legion!Most careers end there; but not mine. I--by Jupiter! what aconception!--I will give up my legion for a prefecture. Think oflife in Rome with money--money, wine, women, games--poets at thebanquet, intrigues in the court, dice all the year round. Such arounding of life may be--a fat prefecture, and it is mine. O myJudah, here is Syria! Judea is rich; Antioch a capital for thegods. I will succeed Cyrenius, and you--shall share my fortune."
The sophists and rhetoricians who thronged the public resorts ofRome, almost monopolizing the business of teaching her patricianyouth, might have approved these sayings of Messala, for they wereall in the popular vein; to the young Jew, however, they were new,and unlike the solemn style of discourse and conversation to which hewas accustomed. He belonged, moreover, to a race whose laws, modes,and habits of thought forbade satire and humor; very naturally,therefore, he listened to his friend with varying feelings; onemoment indignant, then uncertain how to take him. The superiorairs assumed had been offensive to him in the beginning; soon theybecame irritating, and at last an acute smart. Anger lies close bythis point in all of us; and that the satirist evoked in anotherway. To the Jew of the Herodian period patriotism was a savagepassion scarcely hidden under his common humor, and so relatedto his history, religion, and God that it responded instantly toderision of them. Wherefore it is not speaking too strongly to saythat Messala's progress down to the last pause was exquisite tortureto his hearer; at that point the latter said, with a forced smile,
"There are a few, I have heard, who can afford to make a jest oftheir future; you convince me, O my Messala, that I am not oneof them."
The Roman studied him; then replied, "Why not the truth in a jestas well as a parable? The great Fulvia went fishing the other day;she caught more than all the company besides. They said it wasbecause the barb of her hook was covered with gold."
"Then you were not merely jesting?"
"My Judah, I see I did not offer you enough," the Roman answered,quickly, his eyes sparkling. "When I am prefect, with Judea toenrich me, I--will make you high-priest."
The Jew turned off angrily.
"Do not leave me," said Messala.
The other stopped irresolute.
"Gods, Judah, how hot the sun shines!" cried the patrician,observing his perplexity. "Let us seek a shade."
Judah answered, coldly,
"We had better part. I wish I had not come. I sought a friend andfind a--"
"Roman," said Messala, quickly.
The hands of the Jew clenched, but controlling himself again,he started off. Messala arose, and, taking the mantle from thebench, flung it over his shoulder, and followed after; when hegained his side, he put his hand upon his shoulder and walkedwith him.
"This is the way--my hand thus--we used to walk when we werechildren. Let us keep it as far as the gate."
Apparently Messala was trying to be serious and kind, though hecould not rid his countenance of the habitual satirical expression.Judah permitted the familiarity.
"You are a boy; I am a man; let me talk like one."
The complacency of the Roman was superb. Mentor lecturing theyoung Telemachus could not have been more at ease.
"Do you believe in the Parcae? Ah, I forgot, you are a Sadducee:the Essenes are your sensible people; they believe in the sisters.So do I. How everlastingly the three are in the way of our doingwha
t we please! I sit down scheming. I run paths here and there.Perpol! Just when I am reaching to take the world in hand, I hearbehind me the grinding of scissors. I look, and there she is,the accursed Atropos! But, my Judah, why did you get mad when Ispoke of succeeding old Cyrenius? You thought I meant to enrichmyself plundering your Judea. Suppose so; it is what some Romanwill do. Why not I?"
Judah shortened his step.
"There have been strangers in mastery of Judea before the Roman,"he said, with lifted hand. "Where are they, Messala? She has outlivedthem all. What has been will be again."
Messala put on his drawl.
"The Parcae have believers outside the Essenes. Welcome, Judah,welcome to the faith!"
"No, Messala, count me not with them. My faith rests on the rockwhich was the foundation of the faith of my fathers back further thanAbraham; on the covenants of the Lord God of Israel."
"Too much passion, my Judah. How my master would have been shockedhad I been guilty of so much heat in his presence! There were otherthings I had to tell you, but I fear to now."
When they had gone a few yards, the Roman spoke again.
"I think you can hear me now, especially as what I have to sayconcerns yourself. I would serve you, O handsome as Ganymede;I would serve you with real good-will. I love you--all I can.I told you I meant to be a soldier. Why not you also? Why notyou step out of the narrow circle which, as I have shown, is allof noble life your laws and customs allow?"
Judah made no reply.
"Who are the wise men of our day?" Messala continued. "Not theywho exhaust their years quarrelling about dead things; about Baals,Joves, and Jehovahs; about philosophies and religions. Give me onegreat name, O Judah; I care not where you go to find it--to Rome,Egypt, the East, or here in Jerusalem--Pluto take me if it belongnot to a man who wrought his fame out of the material furnished himby the present; holding nothing sacred that did not contribute tothe end, scorning nothing that did! How was it with Herod? How withthe Maccabees? How with the first and second Caesars? Imitate them.Begin now. At hand see--Rome, as ready to help you as she was theIdumaean Antipater."
The Jewish lad trembled with rage; and, as the garden gate wasclose by, he quickened his steps, eager to escape.
"O Rome, Rome!" he muttered.
"Be wise," continued Messala. "Give up the follies of Moses andthe traditions; see the situation as it is. Dare look the Parcaein the face, and they will tell you, Rome is the world. Ask them ofJudea, and they will answer, She is what Rome wills."
They were now at the gate. Judah stopped, and took the hand gentlyfrom his shoulder, and confronted Messala, tears trembling in hiseyes.
"I understand you, because you are a Roman; you cannot understandme--I am an Israelite. You have given me suffering to-day by convincingme that we can never be the friends we have been--never! Here we part.The peace of the God of my fathers abide with you!"
Messala offered him his hand; the Jew walked on through the gateway.When he was gone, the Roman was silent awhile; then he, too, passedthrough, saying to himself, with a toss of the head,
"Be it so. Eros is dead, Mars reigns!"