Mary Magdalen: A Chronicle

  CHAPTER II.

  II.

  "O Prophet Iohanan, how fair you are!"

  Iohanan was hideous. His ankles were in stocks, a chain about his waistwas looped in a ring that hung from the wall. About his body were tatteredfurs, his hair was tangled, the face drawn and yellow. Vermin were visibleon his person. His lips twitched, and his gums, discolored, were as thoseof a camel that has journeyed too far. A tooth projected, green as a freshalmond is; the chin projected too, and from it on one side a rill ofsaliva dripped upon the naked breast. On the terrace he was a blur, anightmare in a garden.

  "Ah, how fair!"

  Tantalizing as temptation, Mary stood just beyond his reach. Her eyes werefull of compliments, her body was bent, and, the folds of her gown heldback, she swayed a little, in the attitude of one cajoling a tiger. Shewas quite at home and at her ease, and yet prepared for instant flight.

  Iohanan, or John--surnamed, because of practices of his, theBaptist--beckoned her to approach. In his eyes was the innocence that oxenhave.

  "My body is chained, but my soul is free!"

  Mary made a pirouette, and through the terrace of the citadel the rattleson her ankles rang.

  It was appalling, this citadel; it dominated the entire land. Perched on apeak of basalt, it overhung an abyss in which Asphalitis, the Bitter Sea,lay, a stretch of sapphire to the sun. In the distance were the heights ofAbraham, the crests of Gilead. Before it was the infinite, behind it thedesert. At its base a hamlet crouched, and a path hewn in the rock crawledin zigzags to its gates. Irregular walls surrounded it, in some places ahundred cubits high, and in each of the many angles was a turret. Seenfrom below it was a threat in stone, but within was a caress, one of thoserapturous palaces that only the Orientals build. It was called Machaerus.Peopled with slaves and legends, it was a haunt of ghosts and fiercedelights.

  And now as Mary tripped before the prophet the walls alone repelled. Theterrace was a garden in which were lilies and sentries. For entrance therewas a portal of red porphyry, above which was a balcony hemmed by abalustrade of yellow Numidian stone.

  Against it Antipas leaned. He had been eyeing the desert in tremuloussurmise. The day before, he had caught the glitter of lances, therewithspirals of distant smoke, and he had become fearful lest Aretas, that kingof Arabia Petraea whose daughter he had deserted, might be meditatingattack. But now there was nothing, at most a triangular mass speedingwestwards, of which only the edges moved, and which he knew to be a flightof cranes.

  He took heart again and gazed in the valley below. It was the anniversaryof his birth. To celebrate it he had invited the stewards of his lands,the notables of Galilee, the elect of Jerusalem, the procurator of Judaea,the emir of Tadmor, mountaineers and Pharisees, Scribes and herdsmen.

  But in the valley only a few shepherds were visible. Along the rampartssoldiers paced. At the further end of the terrace a group of domestics wasbusy with hampers and luggage. The day was solemnly still, exquisitelyclear; and between two hills came a glare of gold projected from theTemple of Jerusalem.

  Through the silence rang the tinkle of the rattles that Mary wore. Theprophet was beckoning her.

  "And Martha?" the tetrarch heard him ask.

  The pirouette ceased awkwardly. Mary's eyes forgot their compliments. Herbrows contracted, and, as though perplexed, she held her head a little toone side.

  "There," he added, "there, I know you well. It was at Bethany I saw youfirst. Yes, yes, I remember perfectly; you were leaving, and Martha was intears. Only a little since I had speech with her. She spoke of you; sheknew you were called the Magdalen. No," he continued, for Mary had shrunkback, "no, I will not curse. There is another by whom you will beblessed."

  Mary laughed. "I am going to Rome. Tiberius will give me a palace. I shallsleep on the down the Teutons bring. I shall drink pearls dissolved infalernian. I shall sup on peacocks' tongues."

  "No, Mary, Rome you will never see. The Eternal has you in His charge.Your shame will be washed away."

  "Shame to you," she interrupted. "Shame and starvation too." She made asthough she were about to pirouette again. "Whom are you talking of?"

  "One whose shoes I am unworthy to bear."

  For a moment he seemed to meditate; then, with the melancholy of onerenounceing some immense ambition, he murmured, half to himself, half tothe sky, "For him to increase I must diminish."

  "As for that, you are not much to look at now. I must go. I must braid myhair; the emir's eyes are eager."

  "Mary," he hissed, and the sudden asperity of his voice coerced her as abit might do, "you will go to Capharnahum, you will seek him, you will sayIohanan is descended into the tombs to announce the Son of David."

  Through the lateral entrance to the terrace a number of guests hadentered. From the balcony above, Antipas leaned and listened. Some onetouched him; it was Herodias.

  "The procurator is coming," she announced. "You should be at the gate."

  "Ah!"

  He seemed indifferent. What Iohanan had said concerning the Son of Davidstirred him like the point of a sword. He felt that there could be no suchperson; his father had put a stop to all that. And yet, if there were!

  His indifference surprised Herodias.

  "What are you staring at?" she asked; and to assure herself she lookedover the balustrade. "That carrion? You should----"

  Her hand drawn across her throat completed the sentence.

  The tetrarch shook his head. There was no hurry. Then, too, the prophetwas useful. He reviled Jerusalem, and that flattered Galilee. But therewas another reason, which he kept to himself. Iohanan affected him as noone had done before.

  He feared him, chained though he was, and into that fear something akin toadmiration entered. In his heart he wished he had let him alone. No, therewas no hurry. As he assured her of that the prophet looked up.

  "Jezebel!"

  The guests approached. Their number had increased. There were Greekmerchants from Hippos and Sepphoris, Pharisees from Jericho, and Scribesfrom Jerusalem. Herodias clapped her hands. A negro, naked to the waist,appeared.

  "Take him below."

  But the guests surrounded Iohanan. The Pharisees recognized him at once.He was the terror of the hierarchs.

  As he cried out at Herodias he seemed as though he would rise and wrenchhis bonds and mount to where she was. His eyes had lost their pathos; theyblazed.

  "Woe unto you!" he shouted, "and woe unto your barren bed! Though you hidin the bowels of the earth, in the uttermost depths of a jungle, thestench of your incest would betray you. Woe unto you, I say; the swinewill turn from you, the Eternal will rend you, and the heart of hell willvomit you back!"

  Herodias shook with anger. She was livid. Murmurs circulated through theincreasing throng.

  The Pharisees edged nearer. On their foreheads were slips of vellum onwhich passages of the Law had been inscribed. About their left arms otherslips extended spiralwise from the elbow to the end of the third finger.They were in white; where their garments had become soiled, the spots hadbeen chalked.

  To them the prophet showed his teeth. "And woe unto you too, race ofvipers, bladders of wind! As the fire devours the stubble, and the flameconsumes the chaff, so your root will be rottenness and your seed go up asdust. Fear will engulf you like a torrent. The high peaks will be broken,the mountains will sever, and night be upon all. The valleys and hillswill be strewn with your corpses, the rocks will run with your blood, theplain will drink it, and the vultures feast on your flesh. Woe unto youall, I say, that call good evil, and evil good!"

  The invective continued. It enveloped the world. Everything was to bedestroyed. Presently it subsided; the voice of the prophet sank lower; hiseyes sought the sky, the pupils dilated; and the dream of his nation, thetriumphant future, the sanctification of the faithful, the magnificencethat was to be, poured rapturously from his lips.

  "The whole land will glow with glory. The sky
will be a rose in bloom. Themeadows will rejoice, and the earth will be filled with men and maidenssinging and kneeling to Thee, Immanuel, whom I await."

  The vision would have expanded, perhaps, but the chain that bound him wasloosed, sinewy arms were dragging him away. As he went, he glared up againat Herodias. His face had lost its beatitude.

  "You will be stripped of your purple, Jezebel; your diadem will be troddenunder foot. The pains of a woman in travail will be as joys unto yours.There will be not enough stones to throw at you, and the abomination ofyour lust will bellow, Accursed, even beyond the tomb."

  The anathema fainted in the distance. The Scribes consulted between theirteeth. By the Pharisees Antipas was blamed. A merchant from Hippos did notunderstand, and the Law was explained. That a man should marry hisbrother's wife was a duty, only in this instance it had not occurred tothe brother to die beforehand. Then, again, by her first husband Herodiashad a child, and in that was the abomination.

  The merchant did not wholly grasp the distinction, but he nodded as thoughhe had.

  "There was a child, was there?"

  A captain of the garrison answered: "A girl, Salome."

  He said nothing further, but the merchant could see that his mouth wateredat the thought of her.

  The crowd had become very dense. Suddenly a trumpet blared. At the gatewas Pontius Pilate. On his head was a high and dazzling helmet. His tunicwas short, open at the neck. His legs were bare. He was shod with shoesthat left the toes exposed. From his cuirass a gorgon's head had, indeference to local prejudice, been effaced; in its stead were scrolls andthunderbolts. From the belt rows of straps, embroidered and fringed, fellnearly to the knee. He held his head in the air. His features wereexcellent, and his beard hung in rows of short overlapping curls.

  Behind him was his body-guard. Before him Antipas stood, welcoming theRoman in Greek.

  In the sky now were the advancing steps of night; in crevices of thebasalt the leaves of the baaras weed had begun to flicker. It was time forthe festival to begin; and, preceding the guests, Antipas passed into ahall beyond.

  It was oblong, curved at the ends, and so vast that the roof was vague. Onthe walls were slabs of different colors, marble spotted like the skin ofserpents, and onyx flecked with violet. On two sides were galleriessupported by columns of sandstone. A third gallery formed a semicircle.Opposite, at the further end, on a dais, was the table of the tetrarch.

  Antipas faced the assemblage. At his left was the procurator, at his rightthe emir of Tadmor. Curtains were looped on either side. Above werepanels; they separated, and flowers fell. On a little stool next to thecouch on which the emir lay was a beautiful boy with curly hair. The couchof the procurator was covered with a dim Babylonian shawl. That of thetetrarch was of ivory incrusted with gold. All three were cushioned.

  As the guests entered they were sprinkled with perfume. Throughout thelength of the hall other tables extended, and at these they found seatsand food: Syrian radishes, melons from the oases near the Oxus, whiteolives from Bethany, honey from Capharnahum, and the little onions ofAscalon. There were candelabra everywhere, liquids cooled with snow,cheeses big as millstones, chunks of fat in wooden bowls, and behind thetables, slaves with copper platters. On the platters were quarters of redbeef, breams swimming in grease, and sunbirds with their plumage on. Inthe semicircular gallery musicians played, three notes, constantlyrepeated.

  The tetrarch's table was spread with a cloth of byssus striped withLaconian green. On it were jars of murrha filled with balsam, Sidoniangoblets of colored glass, jasper amphorae, and water-melons from Egypt.Before the procurator was a dish of oysters, lampreys, and boned barbels,mixed well together, flavored with cinnamon and assafoetida; mashedgrasshoppers baked in saffron; and a roasted boar, the legs curled inward,the eyes half-closed. The emir ate abundantly of heron's eggs whipped withwine into an amber foam. When his fingers were soiled, he wiped them inthe curls of the beautiful boy who sat near by.

  The smell of food filled the hall, mounted to the roof. The atmosphere wasthat of a bath, and the wines were heady. Already discussions had arisen.A mountaineer and a Galilean skiffsman had been dragged away, the onesenseless, the other with features indistinguishable and masked in blood.It was a great festival, and the tetrarch was entertaining, as only hecould, his friends, his enemies, and whoever chanced that way.

  "As a child he rubbed his body with the leaves of the cnyza, which is apreservative of chastity." It was a little man with restless eyes and avery long white beard detailing the virtues of Iohanan. "But," he added,"he must have found cold water better."

  His neighbors laughed. One pounded the table.

  "Jeshua--" he began, but everyone was talking at once.

  "Jeshua--" he continued; yet, as no one would listen, he turned to apassing eunuch and caught him by the arm--"Jeshua does more; he worksmiracles, and not with the cnyza either."

  The eunuch eluded him and escaped. However, he would not be balked; hestood up and, through the din, he shouted at the little man:

  "Baba Barbulah, I tell you he is the Messiah!"

  His voice was so loud it dominated the hubbub, and suddenly the hubbubceased.

  From the dais Pontius Pilate listened indifferently. Antipas held hishands behind his ears that he might hear the better. The emir paid noattention at all. On his head was a conical turban; about it were loops ofsapphire and coils of pearl. He wore a vest with scant sleeves thatreached to the knuckles, and trousers that overhung the instep and fell inwide wrinkles on his feet; both were of leopard-skin. Over the vest was asleeveless tunic, clasped at the shoulders and girt at the waist. His hairwas long, plentifully oiled; his beard was bushy, blue-black, and speckedwith silver.

  Mary had approached. From the lessening waist to the slender feet herdress opened at either side. Beneath was a chemise of transparentBactrianian tissue. From girdle to armpits were little clasps; on herankles, bands; and above the elbow, on her bare white arm, two circlets ofemeralds from the mines of Djebel Zabur.

  The emir spoke to her. She listened with a glimpse of the most beautifulteeth in the world. He put out a hand tentatively and touched her: thetissue of her garment crackled and emitted sparks. He raised a goblet toher. The wine it held was yellower than the marigold. She brushed it withher lips; he drank it off, then, refreshed, he looked her up and down.

  In one hand she held a cup of horn, narrower at the top than at the end;in it were dice made of the knee-joints of gazelles, and these she rattledin his beard.

  "That beautiful Sultan, will he play?"

  With an ochre-tipped finger she pointed at the turban on his head. Theeyes of the emir vacillated. He undid a string of gems and placed them onthe table's edge. Mary unclasped a coil of emeralds and rattled the diceagain. She held the cup high up, then spilled the contents out.

  "Ashtaroth!" the emir cried. He had won.

  Mary leaned forward, fawned upon his breast, and gazed into his face. Herbreath had the fragrance of his own oasis, her lips were moist as thepomegranate's pulp, her teeth as keen as his own desire.

  "No, beautiful Sultan, it is I." With the back of her hand she disturbedthe dice. "I am Ashtaroth, am I not?"

  Questioningly the emir explored the unfathomable eyes that gazed into his.

  On their surface floated an acquiescence to the tacit offer of his own.Then he nodded, and Mary turned and gathered the jewels from the cloth ofbyssus where they lay.

  "I tell you he is the Messiah!" It was the angry disputant shouting at thelittle man.

  "Who is? What are you talking about?"

  Though the hubbub had ceased, throughout the hall were the mutterings ofdogs disturbed.

  "Jeshua," the disputant answered; "Jeshua the Nazarene."

  A Pharisee, very vexed, his bonnet tottering, gnashed back: "The Messiahwill uphold the law; this Nazarene attacks it."

  A Scribe interrupted: "Many things are to distinguish his advent. Thelight of the sun will be increased a hundredfold, the orchard
s will bearfruit a thousand times more abundantly. Death will be forgotten, joy willbe universal, Elijah will return."

  "But he has!"

  Antipas started. The Scribe trembled with rage. But the throng had caughtthe name of Elijah, and knew to whom the disputant referred--a man intattered furs whom a few hours before they had seen dragged away by anegro naked to the waist, and some one shouted:

  "Iohanan is Elijah."

  Baba Barbulah stood up and turned to whence the voice had come:

  "In the footprints of the Anointed impudence shall increase, and the faceof the generation shall be as the face of a dog. It may be," he added,significantly--"it may be that you speak the truth."

  The sarcasm was lost. The musicians in the gallery, who had been playingon flute and timbrel, began now on the psalteron and the native sambuca.Behind was a row of lute-players; but most in view was a trignon, animmense Egyptian harp, at which with nimble fingers a fair girl plucked.

  In the shadow Herodias leaned. At a signal from her the musicians attackedthe prelude of a Syrian dance, and in the midst of the assemblage a figureveiled from head to foot suddenly appeared. For a moment it stood verystill; then the veil fell of itself, and from the garrison a shout wentup:

  "Salome! Salome!"

  Her hair, after an archaic Chanaanite fashion, was arranged in the form ofa tower. Her high bosom was wound about with protecting bands. Her waistwas bare. She wore long pink drawers of silk, and for girdle she had theblue buds of the lotus, which are symbols of virginity. She was young andexquisitely formed. In her face you read strange records, and on her lipswere promises as rare. Her eyes were tortoise-shell, her hair was black asguilt.

  The prelude had ceased, the movement quickened. With a gesture ofabandonment the girl threw her head back, and, her arms extended, shefluttered like a butterfly on a rose. She ran forward. The sambuca rangquicker, the harp quicker yet. She threw herself to one side, then to theother, her hips swaying as she moved. The buds at her girdle fell one byone; she was dancing on flowers, her hips still swaying, her waistadvancing and retreating to the shiver of the harp. She was elusive asdream, subtle as love; she intoxicated and entranced; and finally, as shethrew herself on her hands, her feet, first in the air and then slowlydescending, touched the ground, while her body straightened like a reed,there was a long growl of unsatisfied content.

  She was kneeling now before the dais. Pilate compared her to Bathylle, amime whom he had applauded at Rome. The tetrarch was purple; he gnawed hisunder lip. For the moment he forgot everything he should haveremembered--the presence of his guests, the stains of his household, hiswife even, whose daughter this girl was--and in a gust of passion he halfrose from his couch.

  "Come to me," he cried. "But come to me, and ask whatever you will."

  Salome hesitated and pouted, the point of her tongue protruding betweenher lips.

  "Come to me," he pleaded; "you shall have slaves and palaces and cities;you shall have hills and intervales. I will give you anything; half mykingdom if you wish."

  There was a tinkle of feet; the girl had gone. In a moment she returned,and balancing herself on one foot, she lisped very sweetly: "I should likeby and by to have you give me the head of Iohanan--" she looked about; inthe distance a eunuch was passing, a dish in his hand, and she added, "ona platter."

  Antipas jumped as though a hound under the table had bitten him on theleg. He turned to the procurator, who regarded him indifferently, and tothe emir, who was toying with Mary's agate-nailed hand. He had given hisword, however; the people had heard. About his ears the perspirationstarted; from purple he had grown very gray.

  Salome still stood, balancing herself on one foot, the point of her tonguejust visible, while from the gallery beyond, in whose shadows he divinedthe instigating presence of Herodias, came the grave music of an Hebraichymn.

  "So be it," he groaned.

  The order was given, and a tear trickled down through the paint andfurrows of his cheek. On the hall a silence had descended. The guests werewaiting, and the throb of the harp accentuated the suspense. Presentlythere was the clatter of men-at-arms, and a negro, naked to the waist,appeared, an axe in one hand, the head of the prophet in the other.

  He presented it deferentially to Antipas, who motioned it away, his faceaverted. Salome smiled. She took it, and then, while she resumed her veil,she put it down before the emir, who eyed it with the air of one that hasseen many another object such as that.

  But in a moment the veil was adjusted, and with the trophy the girldisappeared.

  The harp meanwhile had ceased to sob, the guests were departing; alreadythe procurator had gone. The emir looked about for Mary, but she also haddeparted; and, with the expectation, perhaps, of finding her without, hetoo got up and left the hall.

  Antipas was alone. Through the lattice at his side he could see the baarasin the basalt emitting its firefly sparks of flame. From an adjacentcorridor came the discreet click-clack of a sandal, and in a moment thehead of the prophet was placed on the table at which he lay. The tetrarchleaned over and gazed into the unclosed eyes. They were haggard anddilated, and they seemed to curse.

  He put his hand to his face and tried to think--to forget rather, and notto remember; but his ears were charged with rustlings that extendedindefinitely and lost themselves in the future; his mind peopled itselfwith phantoms of the past. Perhaps he dozed a little. When he looked upagain the head was no longer there, and he told himself that Herodias hadthrown it to the swine.