The Wanderer lay on the bed of torment in the place of torment. Theyhad taken the gag from his mouth, and given him food and wine as Pharaohcommanded. He ate and drank and his strength came back to him. Then theymade fast his fetters, lit the braziers at his head and foot, and lefthim with mocking words.
He lay upon the bed of stone and groaned in the bitterness of his heart.Here then was the end of his wanderings, and this was the breast of theGolden Helen in whose arms Aphrodite had sworn that he should lie.Oh, that he were free again and stood face to face with his foes, hisharness on his back! Nay, it might not be, no mortal strength couldburst these fetters, not even the strength of Odysseus, Laertes' son.Where now were those Gods whom he had served? Should he never again hearthe clarion cry of Pallas? Why then had he turned him from Pallas andworshipped at the shrine of the false Idalian Queen? Thus it was thatshe kept her oaths; thus she repaid her votary.
So he thought in the bitterness of his heart as he lay with closed eyesupon the bed of torment whence there was no escape, and groaned: "Would,Aphrodite, that I had never served thee, even for one little hour, thenhad my lot gone otherwise."
Now he opened his eyes, and lo! a great glory rolled about the placeof torment, and as he wondered at the glory, a voice spoke from itsmidst--the voice of the Idalian Aphrodite:
"Blame me not, Odysseus," said the heavenly voice; "blame me not becausethou art come to this pass. Thyself, son of Laertes, art to blame. Whatdid I tell thee? Was it not that thou shouldst know the Golden Helen bythe Red Star on her breast, the jewel whence fall the red drops fast,and by the Star alone? And did she not tell thee, also, that thoushouldst know her by the Star? Yet when one came to thee wearing no Starbut girdled with a Snake, my words were all forgotten, thy desiresled thee whither thou wouldst not go. Thou wast blinded by desire andcouldst not discern the False from the True. Beauty has many shapes, nowit is that of Helen, now that of Meriamun, each sees it as he desiresit. But the Star is yet the Star, and the Snake is yet the Snake, andhe who, bewildered of his lusts, swears by the Snake when he should havesworn by the Star, shall have the Snake for guerdon."
She ceased, and the Wanderer spoke, groaning bitterly:
"I have sinned, O Queen!" he said. "Is there then no forgiveness for mysin?"
"Yea, there is forgiveness, Odysseus, but first there is punishment.This is thy fate. Never now, in this space of life, shalt thou be thelord of the Golden Helen. For thou hast sworn by the Snake, and his thouart, nor mayest thou reach the Star. Yet it still shines on. Throughthe mists of death it shall shine for thee, and when thou wakest again,behold, thine eyes shall see it fitfully.
"And now, this for thy comfort. Here thou shalt not die, nor by torment,for thy death shall come to thee from the water as the dead seerforetold, but ere thou diest, once more thou shalt look upon the GoldenHelen, and hear her words of love and know her kiss, though thine sheshall not be. And learn that a great host marches upon the land of Khem,and with it sails a fleet of thine own people, the Achaeans. Go down andmeet them and take what comes, where the swords shine that smote Troy.And this fate is laid upon thee, that thou shalt do battle against thyown people, even against the sons of them by whose side thou didstfight beneath the walls of Ilios, and in that battle thou shalt find thydeath, and in thy death, thou Wanderer, thou shalt find that which allmen seek, the breast of the immortal Helen. For though here on earthshe seems to live eternally, it is but the shadow of her beauty that mensee--each as he desires it. In the halls of Death she dwells, and inthe garden of Queen Persephone, and there she shall be won, for thereno more is beauty guarded of Those that stand between men and joy, andthere no more shall the Snake seem as the Star, and Sin have power tosever those that are one. Now make thy heart strong, Odysseus, and so doas thy wisdom tells thee. Farewell!"
Thus the Goddess spoke from the cloud of glory, and lo! she was gone.But the heart of the Wanderer was filled with joy because he knew thatthe Helen was not lost to him for ever, and he no more feared the deathof shame.
*****
Now it was midnight, and Pharaoh slept. But Meriamun the Queen sleptnot. She rose from her bed, she wrapped herself in a dark cloak that hidher face, and taking a lamp in her hand, glided through the empty hallstill she came to a secret stair down which she passed. There was a gateat the foot of the stair, and a guard slept by it. She pushed him withher foot.
He awoke and sprang towards her, but she held a signet before his eyes,an old ring of great Queen Taia, whereon a Hathor worshipped the sun.Then he bowed and opened the gate. She swept on through many passages,deep into the bowels of the earth, till she came to the door of a littlechamber where a light shone. Men talked in the chamber, and she listenedto their talk. They spoke much and laughed gleefully. Then she enteredthe doorway and looked upon them. They were six in number, evil-eyed menof Ethiopia, and seated in a circle. In the centre of the circle lay thewaxen image of a man, and they were cutting it with knives and searingit with needles of iron and pincers made red-hot, and many instrumentsstrange and dreadful to look upon. For these were the tormentors, andthey spoke of those pains that to-morrow they should wreak upon theWanderer, and practised them.
But Meriamun, who loved him, shivered as she looked, and muttered thusbeneath her breath:
"This I promise you, black ministers of death, that in the same fashionye shall die ere another night be sped."
Then she passed into the chamber, holding the signet on high, and thetormentors fell upon their faces before her majesty. She passed betweenthem, and as she went she stamped with her sandalled foot upon thewaxen image and brake it. On the further side of the chamber was anotherpassage, and this she followed till she reached a door of stone thatstood ajar. Here she paused awhile, for from within the chamber therecame a sound of singing, and the voice was the Wanderer's voice, andthus he sang:
"Endure, my heart: not long shalt thou endure The shame, the smart; The good and ill are done; the end is sure; Endure, my heart! There stand two vessels by the golden throne Of Zeus on high, From these he scatters mirth and scatters moan, To men that die. And thou of many joys hast had thy share, Thy perfect part; Battle and love, and evil things and fair; Endure, my heart! Fight one last greatest battle under shield, Wage that war well: Then seek thy fellows in the shadowy field Of asphodel, There is the knightly Hector; there the men Who fought for Troy; Shall we not fight our battles o'er again? Were that not joy? Though no sun shines beyond the dusky west, Thy perfect part There shalt thou have of the unbroken rest; Endure, my heart!"
Meriamun heard and wondered at this man's hardihood, and the greatnessof his heart who could sing thus as he lay upon the bed of torment. Nowshe pushed the door open silently and passed in. The place where shestood was dreadful. It was shaped as a lofty vault, and all the wallswere painted with the torments of those who pass down to Set afterliving wickedly on earth. In the walls were great rings of bronze, andchains and fetters of bronze, wherein the bones of men yet hung. In thecentre of the vault there was a bed of stone on which the Wanderer wasfastened with fetters. He was naked, save only for a waistcloth, and athis head and feet burned polished braziers that gave light to the vault,and shone upon the instruments of torment. Beyond the further braziersgrinned the gate of Sekhet, that is shaped like a woman, and the chainswherein the victim is set for the last torment by fire, were hangingfrom the roof.
Meriamun passed stealthily behind the head of the Wanderer, who mightnot see her because of the straitness of his bonds. Yet it seemed to herthat he heard somewhat, for he ceased from singing and turned his earto hearken. She stood awhile in silence looking on him she loved, whoof all living men was the goodliest by far. Then at length he spokecraftily:
"Who art thou?" he said. "If thou art of the number of the tormentors,begin thy work. I fear thee not, and no groan shall thy worst torturewring from these lips of mine. But I tell thee this, t
hat ere I be threedays dead, the Gods shall avenge me terribly, both on thee and those whosent thee. With fire and with sword they shall avenge me, for a greathost gathers and draws nigh, a host of many nations gathered out of alllands, ay, and a fleet manned with the sons of my own people, of theAchaeans terrible in war. They rush on like ravening wolves, and the landis black before them, but the land shall be stamped red behind theirfeet. Soon they shall give this city to the flames, the smoke of itshall go up to heaven, and the fires shall be quenched at last in theblood of its children--ay, in thy blood, thou who dost look on me."
Hearing these words Meriamun bent forward to look on the face of thespeaker and to see what was written there; and as she moved, her cloakslipped apart, showing the Snake's head with the eyes of flame that wasset about her as a girdle. Fiercely they gleamed, and the semblance ofthem was shown faintly on the polished surface of the brazier whereinthe fire burned at the Wanderer's feet. He saw it, and now he knew whostood behind him.
"Say, Meriamun the Queen--Pharaoh's dishonoured wife," he said, "say,wherefore art thou come to look upon thy work? Nay, stand not behindme, stand where I may see thee. Fear not, I am strongly bound, nor may Ilift a hand against thee."
Then Meriamun, still speaking no word, but wondering much because heknew her ere his eyes fell upon her, passed round the bed of torment,and throwing down her cloak stood before him in her dark and royalloveliness.
He looked upon her beauty, then spoke again:
"Say, wherefore art thou come hither, Meriamun? Surely, with my ears Iheard thee swear that I had wronged thee. Wouldst thou then look on himwho wronged thee, or art thou come, perchance, to watch my torments,while thy slaves tear limb from limb, and quench yon fires with myblood? Oh, thou evil woman, thou hast worked woe on me indeed, andperchance canst work more woe now that I lie helpless here. But this Itell thee, that thy torments shall outnumber mine as the stars outnumberthe earth. For here, and hereafter, thou shalt be parched with such athirst of love as never may be quenched, and in many another land, andin many another time, thou shalt endure thine agony afresh. Again, andyet again, thou shalt clasp and conquer; again, and yet again, thoushalt let slip, and in the moment of triumph lose. By the Snake's head Iswore my troth to thee, I, who should have sworn by the Star; and thisI tell thee, Meriamun, that as the Star shall shine and be my beaconthrough the ages, so through the ages shall the Snake encircle thee andbe thy doom!"
"Hold!" said Meriamun, "pour no more bitter words upon me, who amdistraught of love, and was maddened by thy scorn. Wouldst thou knowthen why I am come hither? For this cause I am come, to save theefrom thy doom. Hearken, the time is short. It is true--though how thouknowest it I may not guess--it is true that the barbarians march onKhem, and with them sails a fleet laden with the warriors of thine ownpeople. This also is true, Pharaoh has returned alone: and all his hostis swallowed in the Sea of Weeds. And I, foolish that I am, I would savethee, Odysseus, thus: I will put it in the heart of Pharaoh to pardonthy great offence, and send thee forward against the foe; yes, I can doit. But this thou shalt swear to me, to be true to Pharaoh, and smitethe barbarian host."
"That I will swear," said the Wanderer, "ay, and keep the oath, thoughit is hard to do battle on my kin. Is that all thy message, Meriamun?"
"Not all, Odysseus. One more thing must thou swear, or if thou swearestit not, here thou shalt surely die. Know this, she who in Khem is namedthe Hathor, but who perchance has other names, hath put thee from herbecause last night thou wast wed to me."
"It may well be so," said the Wanderer.
"She hath put thee from her, and thou--thou art bound to me by thatwhich cannot be undone, and by an oath that may not be broken; inwhatever shape I walk, or by whatever name I am known among men, stillthou art bound to me, as I am bound to thee. This then thou shalt swear,that thou wilt tell naught of last night's tale to Pharaoh."
"That I swear," said the Wanderer.
"Also that if Pharaoh be gathered to Osiris, and it should chance thatshe who is named the Hathor pass with him to the Underworld, then thatthou, Odysseus, wilt wed me, Meriamun, and be faithful to me for thylife days."
Now the crafty Odysseus took counsel with his heart, and bethought himof the words of the Goddess. He saw that it was in the mind of Meriamunto slay Pharaoh and the Helen. But he cared nothing for the fate ofPharaoh, and knew well that Helen might not be harmed, and that thoughshe change eternally, wearing now this shape, and now that, yet she diesonly when the race of men is dead--then to be gathered to the numberof the Gods. This he knew also, that now he must go forth on his lastwandering, for Death should come upon him from the water. Therefore heanswered readily:
"That oath I swear also, Meriamun, and if I break it may I perish inshame and for ever."
Now Meriamun heard, and knelt beside him, looking upon him with eyes oflove.
"It is well, Odysseus: perchance ere long I shall claim thy oath. Oh,think not so ill of me: if I have sinned, I have sinned from love ofthee. Long years ago, Odysseus, thy shadow fell upon my heart and Iclasped its emptiness. Now thou art come, and I, who pursued a shadowfrom sleep to sleep and dream to dream, saw thee a living man, and lovedthee to my ruin. Then I tamed my pride and came to win thee to my heart,and the Gods set another shape upon me--so thou sayest--and in thatshape, the shape of her thou seekest, thou didst make me wife to thee.Perchance she and I are _one_, Odysseus. At the least, not so readilyhad _I_ forsaken thee. Oh, when thou didst stand in thy might holdingthose dogs at bay till the Sidonian knave cut thy bowstring----"
"What of him? Tell me, what of Kurri? This would I ask thee, Queen, thathe be laid where I lie, and die the death to which I am doomed."
"Gladly would I give thee the boon," she answered, "but thou askest toolate. The False Hathor looked upon him, and he slew himself. Now I willaway--the night wanes and Pharaoh must dream dreams ere dawn. Fare theewell, Odysseus. Thy bed is hard to-night, but soft is the couch of kingsthat waits thee," and she went forth from him.
"Ay, Meriamun," said the Wanderer, looking after her. "Hard is my bedto-night, and soft is the couch of the kings of Men that waits me in therealms of Queen Persephone. But it is not thou who shalt share it. Hardis my bed to-night, harder shall thine be through all the nightsof death that are to come when the Erinnyes work their will on folkforsworn."