Mary Magdalen: A Chronicle

  CHAPTER IV.

  IV.

  In the gardens of the palace the tetrarch mused. The green parasols of thepalms formed an avenue, and down that avenue now and then he looked. Nearhim a Syrian bear, quite tame, with a sweet face and tufted silver fur,gambolled prodigiously. Up and down a neighboring tree two lemurs chasedwith that grace and diabolic vivacity which those enchanting animals alonepossess. Ringed-horned antelopes, the ankles slender as the stylus, theeyes timid and trustful, pastured just beyond; and there too a black-facedape, irritated perhaps by the lemurs, turned indignant somersaults, thetender coloring of his body glistening in the sun.

  "It is odd that Pahul does not return," the tetrarch reflected; and then,it may be for consolation's sake, he plunged his face in a jar of winethat had been drained, in accordance with a recipe of Vitellius, throughcinnamon and calamus, and drank abundantly.

  Long since he had deserted Machaerus. The legends that peopled itscorridors had beset him with a sense of reality which before they hadnever possessed. The leaves of the baaras glittered frenetically in thebasalt, and in their spectral light a phantom with eyes that cursed cameand went. At night he had drunk, and in the clear forenoons he paced theterrace fancying always that there, beyond in the desert, Aretas prowledlike a wolf. Machaerus was unhealthy; men had gone mad there, others haddisappeared entirely. It was a haunt of echoes, of memories, of ghostsalso, perhaps too of reproach. And so, with his court, he returned to hisbrand-new Tiberias, where the air was serener, and nature laughed.

  And yet in the gardens that leaned to the lake the tranquillity he hadanticipated eluded and declined to be detained. Rumors that Herodiascollected came to him with the stamp of Rome. One of his brothers wasplotting against him; another, though in exile, was plotting too. It wasthe Herod blood, his wife said; and, with the intemperance of a womanwhose ambition has been deceived, she taunted him with his plebeiandescent. "Your grandfather was a sweep at Ascalon, a eunuch at that," shehad remarked; and the tetrarch, by way of reply, had been obliged tocontent himself by asking how, in that case, he could have beengrandfather at all.

  But latterly a new source of inquietude had come. At Magdala, Capharnahum,Bethsaida, there, within the throw of a stone, was a Nazarene going aboutinciting the peasants to revolt. It was very vexatious, and he toldhimself that when an annoyance fades another appears. Life, it occurred tohim, was a brier with renascent thorns. And now, as he gargled the winethat left a pink foam on his lips, even that irritation lapsed in theperplexing absence of Pahul.

  Pahul was a butler of his, a Greek whom he had picked up one adventurousnight in Rome, who had made himself useful, whom he had attached to hishousehold, whom he consulted, and on whom he relied. Early that day he hadsent him off with instructions to run the demagogue to earth, to listen,to question if need were, and to hurry back and report. But as yet he hadnot returned. The day was fading, and on the amphitheatre which the hillsmade the sun seemed to balance itself, the disk blood-red. The lemurs hadtired, perhaps; their yellow eyes and circled tails had gone; the bear hadbeen led away; only the multicolored ape remained, gnawing now with littleplaintive moans at a bit of fruit which he held suspiciously in hiswrinkled hand.

  Presently a star appeared and quivered, then another came, and thoughoverhead were streaks of pink, and, where the sun had been, a violence ofred and orange, the east retained its cobalt, night still was remote--anecho of crotals from the neighboring faubourg, the cry of elephantsimpatient for their fodder, alone indicating that a day was dead.

  In the charm of the encroaching twilight the irritation of the tetrarchwaned and decreased. He lost himself in memories of the princess who hadbeen his bride, and he wondered were it possible that, despite theirrevocable, he was never to see, to speak, to hold her to him again.Truly her grievance was unmeasurable, the more so even that she had notdeigned to utter so much as a reproach. At the rumor of his treachery shehad betaken herself to the solitudes, where Aretas her father was king,and had there remained girt in that unmurmuring silence which nobilityraises as a barrier between outrage and itself, and which the desert isalone competent to suggest.

  "It is he!"

  The tetrarch started so abruptly that he narrowly missed the jar at hisside. On noiseless sandals Pahul had approached, and stood before himnodding his head with an air of assured conviction. The ape had fled and astork stepped gingerly away.

  "It is he," the Greek repeated--"John the Baptist."

  Antipas plucked at his beard. "But he is dead," he gasped; "I beheadedhim. What nonsense you talk!"

  "It is he, I tell you, only grown younger. I found him in the synagogue."

  "Where? what synagogue?"

  Pahul made a gesture. "At Capharnahum," he answered, and gazed in thetetrarch's face. He was slight of form and regular of feature. As a lad hehad crossed bare-handed from Cumae to Rhegium, and from there drifted toRome, where he started a commerce in Boetican girls which had so farprospered that he bought two vessels to carry the freight. Unfortunatelythe vessels met in a storm and sank. Then he became a hanger-on of thecircus; in idle moments a tout. It was in the latter capacity that Antipasmet him, and, pleased with his shrewdness and perfect corruption, hadattached him to his house. This had occurred in years previous, and as yetAntipas had found no cause to regret the trust imposed. He was a usefulbraggart, idle, familiar, and discreet; and he had acquired the dialect ofthe country with surprising ease.

  "There were any number of people," Pahul continued. "Some said he was theson of Joseph, the son of----"

  "But he, what did he say? How tiresome you are!"

  "Ah!" And Pahul swung his arms. "Who is Mammon?"

  "Mammon? Mammon? How do I know? Plutus, I suppose. What about him?"

  "And who is Satan?"

  "Satan? Satan is a--He's a Jew god. Why? But what do you mean by asking mequestions?"

  Pahul nodded absently. "I heard him say," he continued, "that no man couldserve God and Mammon. At first I thought he meant you. It was this way. Igot into conversation with a friend of his, a man named Judas. He told meany number of things about him, that he cured the sick----"

  "Bah! Some Greek physician."

  "That he walks on the sea----"

  "Nonsense!"

  "That he turns water into wine, feeds the multitude, raises the dead----"

  "Raises the dead!" And the tetrarch added in the _sotto voce_ of thought,"So did Elijah."

  "That he had been in the desert----"

  "With Aretas?"

  "No; I questioned him on that point. He had never heard of Aretas, but hesaid that in the desert this Satan had come and offered him--what do yousuppose? _The empire of the earth!_"

  Antipas shook with fright. "It must have been Aretas."

  "But that he had refused."

  "Then it is John."

  "There, you see." And Pahul dandled himself with the air of one who ismaster of logic. "That's what I said myself. I said this: 'If he can raisethe dead, he can raise himself.' "

  "It _is_ John," the tetrarch repeated.

  "I am sure of it," the butler continued. "But he did not say so. Judasdidn't either. On the contrary, he declared he was not. He said John wasnot good enough to carry his shoes. I saw through that, though," and Pahulleered; "he knew whom I was, and he lied to protect his friend. I ofcourse pretended to believe him."

  "Quite right," said the tetrarch.

  "Yes, I played the fool. H'm, where was I? Oh, I asked Judas who then hisfriend was, but he went over to where a woman stood; he spoke to her; shemoved away. Some of the others seemed to reprove him. I would havefollowed, but at that moment his friend stood up; a khazzan offered him ascroll, but he waved it aside; then some one asked him a question which Idid not catch; another spoke to him; a third interrupted; he seemed to bearguing with them. I was too far away to hear well, and I got nearer; thenI heard him say, 'I am the bread of life.' Now, what did he mean by that?"

&nbs
p; Antipas had no explanation to offer.

  "Then," Pahul continued, "he said he had come down from heaven. A man nearme exclaimed, 'He is the Messiah;' but others----"

  "The Messiah!" echoed the tetrarch. For a moment his thoughts stammered,then at once he was back in the citadel. On one side was the procurator,on the other the emir of Tadmor. In front of him was a drunken rabble,wrangling Pharisees, and one man dominating the din with an announcementof the Messiah's approach. The murmur of lutes threaded through it all;and now, as his thoughts deviated, he wondered could that announcementhave been the truth.

  "But others," Pahul continued, "objected loudly. For a little I could notcatch a word. At last they became quieter, and I heard him repeat that hewas the bread of life, adding, 'Your fathers ate manna and are dead, butthis bread a man may eat of and never die.' At this there was newcontention. A woman fainted--the one to whom Judas had spoken. They carriedher out. As she passed I could see her face. It was Mary of Magdala. Judasheld her by the waist, another her feet."

  Antipas drew a hand across his face. "It is impossible," he muttered.

  "Not impossible at all. I saw her as plainly as I see you. The man next tome said that the Rabbi had cast from her seven devils. Moreover, Johannawas there--yes, yes, the wife of Khuza, your steward; it was she, Iremember now, who had her by the feet. And there were others that Irecognized, and others that the man next to me pointed out: Zabdia, awell-to-do fisherman whom I have seen time and again, and with him hissons James and John, and Salome his wife. Then, too, there were SimonBarjona and Andrew his brother. Simon had his wife with him, his children,and his mother-in-law. The man next to me said that the Rabbi called Jamesand John the Sons of Thunder, and Simon a stone. There was Mathias thetax-gatherer, Philip of Bethsaida, Joseph Barsaba, Mary Clopas, Susannah,Nathaniel of Cana, Thomas, Thaddeus, Aristian the custom-house officer,Ruth the tax-gatherer's wife, mechanics from Scythopolis, and Scribes fromJerusalem."

  The fingers of Antipas' hand glittered with jewels. He played with themnervously. The sky seemed immeasurably distant. For some little time ithad been hesitating between different shades of blue, but now it chose afathomless indigo; Night unloosed her draperies, and, with the prodigalityof a queen who reigns only when she falls, flung out upon them uncountedstars.

  Pahul continued: "And many of them seemed to be at odds with each other.They wrangled so that often I could not distinguish a word. Some of themleft the synagogue. The Rabbi himself must have been vexed, for in a lullI heard him say to those who were nearest, 'Will you also go away?' Judascame in at that moment, and he turned to him: 'Have I not chosen twelve,and is not one of you a devil?' Judas came forward at once and protested.I could see he was in earnest, and meant what he said. The man next toldme that he was devoted to the Rabbi. Then Simon Barjona, in answer to hisquestion, called out, 'To whom should we go? Thou art Christ, the Son ofGod.' "

  Antipas had ceased to listen. At the mention of the Messiah the dream ofIsrael had returned, and with it the pageants of its faith unrolled.

  Behind the confines of history, in the naked desert he saw a bedouin,austere and grandiose, preparing the tenets of a nation's creed; in theremoter past a shadow in which there was lightning, then the splendor ofthat first dawn where the future opened like a book, and in the grammar ofthe Eternal the promise of an age of gold.

  Through the echo of succeeding generations came the rumor of that initialimpulse which drew the world in its flight. The bedouin had put the desertbehind him, and stared at another. Where the sand had been was the sea. Ashe passed, the land leapt into life. There were tents and passions, clansnot men, an aggregate of forces in which the unit disappeared. Forchieftain there was Might; and above, the subjects of impersonal verbs,the Elohim from whom the thunder came, the rain, light and darkness, deathand birth, dream too, and nightmare as well. The clans migrated. Goshencalled. In its heart Chaldaea spoke. The Elohim vanished, and there was El,the one great god, and Isra-el, the great god's elect. From heights thatlost themselves in immensity the ineffable name, incommunicable and neverto be pronounced, was seared by forked flames on a tablet of stone. Anation learned that El was Jehovah, that they were in his charge, that hewas omnipotent, and that the world was theirs.

  They had a law, a covenant, a future, and a god; and as they passed intothe lands of the well-beloved, leaving tombs and altars to mark theirpassage, they had battle-cries that frightened and hymns that exalted theheart. Above were the jealous eyes of Jehovah, and beyond was theresplendent to-morrow. They ravaged the land like hailstones. They had thewhirlwind for ally; the moon was their servant; and to aid them the sunstood still. The terror of Sinai gleamed from their breastplates; mencould not see their faces and live. They encroached and conquered. Theyhad a home, they made a capitol, and there on a rock-bound hill Antipassaw David founding a line of kings, and Solomon the city of god.

  It was in their loins the Messiah was; in them the apex of a nation'sprosperity; in them glory at its apogee. And across that tableau of might,of splendor, and of submission for one second flitted the silhouette ofthat dainty princess of Utopia, the Queen of Sheba, bringing riddles,romance, and riches to the wise young king.

  She must have been very beautiful, Antipas with melancholy retrospectionreflected; and he fancied her more luminous than the twelve signs of thezodiac, lounging nonchalantly in a palanquin that a white elephant withswaying tail balanced on his painted back. And even as she returned, witha child perhaps, to the griffons of the fabulous Yemen whence she came,Antipas noted a speck on the horizon that grew from minim into mountain,and obscured the entire sky. He saw the empire split in twain, and in thetwin halves that formed the perfect whole, a concussion of armies,brothers appealing against their kin, the flight of the Ideal.

  Unsummoned before him paraded the regicides, convulsions, and anarchiesthat deified Hatred until Vengeance incarnate talked Assyrian, andNebuchadnezzar loomed above the desert beyond. His statue filled theperspective. With one broad hand he overturned Jerusalem; with another heswept a nation into captivity, leaving in derision a pigmy for King ofSolitude behind, and, blowing the Jews into Babylon, there retained themuntil it occurred to Cyrus to change the Euphrates' course.

  By the light of that legend Antipas saw an immense hall, illuminated bythe seven branches of countless candelabra, and filled with revellerscelebrating a monarch's feast. Beyond, through retreating columns, werecyclopean arches and towers whose summits were lost in clouds that thelightning rent. At the royal table sat Belsarazzur, laughing mightily atthe enterprise of the Persian king; about him were the grandees of hiscourt, the flower of his concubines; at his side were the sacred vasesfilled with wine. He raised one to his lips, and there on the friezebefore him leapt out the flaming letters of his doom, while to thetrumpetings of heralds Cyrus and his army beat down the city's gates.

  It passed, and Antipas saw Jerusalem repeopled, the Temple rebuilt, peaceafter exile, the joy of bondage unloosed. For a moment it lasted--a centuryor two at most; and after Alexander, in chasing kings hither and thither,had passed with his huntsmen that way, Isis and Osiris beckoned, and thedescendants of the bedouin belonged to Goshen again, and so remained untilSyria took them, lost them, reconquered them, and might have done withthem utterly had not Juda Maccabaeus flaunted his banner, and the Romaneagles pounced upon their prey. Once more the Temple was rebuilt, superberthan ever, and from the throne of David, Antipas saw the upstart that washis father rule Judaea.

  With him the panorama and the kaleidoscope of its details abruptly ceased.But through it all the voices of the prophets had rung more insistentlywith each defeat. The covenant in the wilderness was unforgetable; in thechained links of slavery they saw the steps of a throne, the triumph oftruth over error, peace over war, Israel pontiff and shepherd of thenations of the world.

  The expectation of a liberator who should free the bonds of a people anddefinitively re-create the land of the elect possessed them utterly; hisadvent had been constantly awaited, obstinat
ely proclaimed; the faith inhim was unshakeable. Palestine was filled with believers praying theEternal not to let them die before the promise was fulfilled; theatmosphere itself was charged with expectation.

  And as the visions rushed through his mind, Antipas fell to wonderingwhether that covenant was as meaningless as he had thought, or whether byany chance this rabbi who had been arguing at Capharnahum could be theusher of Israel's hope. If he were, then indeed he might say good-bye tohis tetrarchy, to his dream of a kingdom as well.

  "Yes," Pahul repeated, "the Son of God!"

  Antipas had been so far away that now he started as one does whom thetouch of a hand awakes. To recover himself he leaned over and plunged hisface in the jar. The wine brought him courage.

  He must be suppressed, he decided.

  "But," the butler continued, "I----"

  The frontal of the palace was set with lights. The parasols of the palmshad turned from green to black, the stars seemed remoter, the sky moredark. From beyond came the call and answer of the sentinels.

  Antipas stood up. A fringe of his tunic was detained by a rivet of thebench on which he had sat; he stooped to loose it; something moist touchedhis fingers, and as he moved to the palace the black-faced ape sprang athis side and nibbled at the jewels on his hand.