Istar of Babylon: A Phantasy
I
THE A-IBUR-SABU
As the first yellow streaks of the false dawn paled in the east on thismorning of the eleventh of June, the city of Babylon awoke. And by thetime that Shamash had come forth from the world beyond the Euphrates,the city streets were alive with men, women, and animals. An hour laterthese were fixed in two long phalanxes, twenty rows deep, on either sideof the A-Ibur-Sabu--King Nebuchadrezzar's sacred way, that stretched,from the gate of Bel on the south side of the city, northward as far asthe sanctuary of Istar. Half-way along its course this street, orboulevard, ran through the great square of the gods, that was to-day thecentre of interest; for here, upon the right hand and upon the left,were the temples of Nebo and Nergal, whose feast-day this was. The greatreligious procession of gods and men was to pass from the secondmonastery of Zicari southward across the canal of the Ukhatu to thetemple of Istar, where they would enter upon the A-Ibur-Sabu, and sopass directly down to the temples where the sacrifice was to beconducted by the high-priests of the temples of Bel, of Marduk, of Nebo,and of Nergal, in the presence of the Lady Istar, the gods her brothers,the king of Babylon, and the king's son. The day was an annual holidayin the city, whose three million inhabitants were now, apparently, everyone of them struggling to obtain the best position on the A-Ibur-Sabu,just at the entrance of the square of the gods.
The noise in this part of the city was such as only a vast, good-naturedcrowd can make. They pushed and elbowed, and indulged in gutturalaltercations that commanded too speedy mirth from by-standers ever toresult in an actual quarrel. Frequently a commoner, driving hisbullock-cart down some side street towards the main thoroughfare, wouldbe hauled from his place to see his vehicle led back to a distant point.Men and women on donkeys, however, were permitted to trot on unmolested;for the little, mouse-colored creatures found a passage where theirriders would have been wholly at fault. Now and then a drove of goatspassed down the sacred way in a cloud of dust, their owner doing athriving business in the way of selling milk from his animals to thethirsty throng. Venders of eggs, ready-cooked grain, fresh water,fruits, and sweetmeats added their long-drawn, half-incomprehensiblecries to the general clamor; while at frequent intervals a squad ofcavalry or the chariot of a nobleman clattered along the A-Ibur, causingthe people to scurry from beneath their hoofs, but never making theslightest move to draw up for unfortunates.
The sun rose higher, and the heat grew stifling. Water-sellers emptiedtheir skins so rapidly that the liquid had no time to cool byevaporation before it was taken, in its tepid, nauseous state. Themorning was well advanced. Children began to cry with fatigue, and menand women alike became impatient for the procession. But by the timeCharmides reached the temple of Nebo there was still no sign of itsapproach.
The Greek had slept late, under the shadow of the great wall; and whenhe awoke the sun was well up, Hodo was nowhere to be seen, and the rebitwas empty of those that had passed the night there. Charmides arose witha very hasty prayer to Apollo, performed some ablutions at the publicwell, and then, his heart beating high with long-delayed curiosity,passed the gate and went into the Great City.
He entered directly upon the A-Ibur-Sabu; and the distance from the gateto the square of the gods was not great. Plenty of people were moving inthe direction of the temples, and presently the rhapsode, a littlebewildered with their number, wholly interested in their appearance,halted on the right hand of the street, beside a building, to watchthose around him for a little while. He remained at his vantage-pointfor some time, regarding with interested eyes all that passed. Finally,however, the sight of a young girl, tall, lithe, straight, withbrilliant eyes and dark skin, brought him back with a start to his greatobject, the quest of Istar. In passing, the girl flashed an impudentlittle smile at him, and on impulse he ran forward, to ask her in hisown way how to reach the temple of the goddess. Whether by instinct,intuition, or divine Providence, the girl understood what he said; buther quick answer was unintelligible to him, and he had only her gestureto go by. That, however, commanded him to keep to the north, and hestarted eagerly forward in that direction.
Fifteen minutes' rapid walking brought him to the edge of the densecrowd that bordered the square of the gods. Here the people bewilderedhim. He felt the heat intensely, and, incidentally, had become boththirsty and hungry. There was food and drink enough on all sides of himfor sale; but the youth felt disinclined to offer a piece of hisSicilian money in exchange for a breakfast; not on account of anypenurious notions, but because, utterly ignorant as he was of Babylonishcoinage, he dreaded Babylonish curiosity or the ridicule that might beexpressed on presentation of such foreign coins as he had. Therefore hewavered on the outer edge of the crowd, chafing with impatience,extremely uncomfortable, and still afraid to make known his needs. Thethrong was dense, and the Greek by no means tall enough to see over themany heads in front of him. Therefore whatever might be going on in thesquare beyond was quite hidden from his view. Presently he trod, bymistake, upon the fringed tunic of a man beside him. Turning to offer anapology, his eyes suddenly fell upon a face that seemed familiar--sofamiliar that he made an effort to remember where he had seen it before.
After all, it proved to be only the little goat-girl who had been in therebit on the previous evening. This time, however, the child saw him;and she seemed to find something in his face that kept her eyes rivetedon his for a long moment, and then sent them drooping, till he could seethe pretty, olive lids and the long, black lashes; while at the sametime a wave of crimson swept up and over her face. Then Charmidesdiscovered that, after all, he knew something of women. He felt at oncethat from this girl there would be no ridicule for him. The goat wasstill with her; and, as he went quickly to her side, he perceived, roundthe creature's neck, a metal cup on a string, the purpose of whichvessel he was not slow to guess.
The girl waited for Charmides, and pushed her goat away for him withevident pleasure. As he halted, her big eyes were upraised, and her looktravelled ingenuously from his sunlit hair over his burned face down tohis roughly sandalled feet. Then she watched him open the littlemoney-bag that he had drawn from his bundle. From it he extracted asilver piece, stamped with the parsley sprig of Selinous, and, holdingit out to her, he pointed from the cup on the goat to his own lips andthen back to the animal again. The business was done. Baba, disregardingthe proffered money, knelt down beside the docile animal and obtainedCharmides' belated breakfast with a practised hand.
Charmides drank the warm milk with relish, and, the cup emptied, placedhis coin inside it and returned it to the girl. She took it with a shysmile, that suddenly vanished when she perceived the silver. Picking upthe coin, she examined it for some seconds. Then, while Charmides lookedon uneasily, Baba opened a pouch at her side, extracted therefrom ahandful of small, copper disks, and held them out to the Greek, sayingsomething to him at the same time. He shook his head and smiled at heras he accepted them. They were all alike: little scraps of stampedcopper, which he afterwards learned to be _se_, the smallest of theBabylonish coins.
The chief matter of the moment thus satisfactorily concluded, the Greeklingered still at Baba's side, debating on the advisability ofquestioning her further. She seemed not disinclined to conversation, andas he glanced at her furtively he found her eyes again fixed upon hisface. He answered the look, and then, with the usual effort, said, inthe thick way of the Babylonians, the one word:
"Ishtar."
Baba appeared to understand him at once. "Belit will come to the squareof the gods and the temples there in the sacred procession," she said,pointing at the same time to the north along the A-Ibur-Sabu.
Charmides understood the gesture, not the words; and, thanking her inhis own language, he left her, not without a vague hope that he mightfind her again some time. As he strode away he did not know howlongingly Baba's eyes followed him; how for a few steps she crept afterhim, this new god with the hair of gold, and how at length, abashed bythe thought of her own boldness, she sat down beside her goat andaddressed a
fervent prayer to Lady Istar to send peace to her thoughts.
Meantime the object of this homage was hurrying down a narrow streetthat ran westward; and, having a good notion of localities and distance,he succeeded in skirting the crowd on the square without muchdifficulty, and in reaching the A-Ibur-Sabu again a little farther tothe north. Here, indeed, the throng seemed denser than ever; and here,as Charmides now guessed, Istar herself would come in procession withthe gods and priests this very morning--nay, within the hour. With thethought his heart beat furiously, his throat grew dry, and his eyes weredim. His head swam with emotion as he started to edge a way through themass of people. Not a little to his surprise, he found this easy to do.The people voluntarily gave place to him, staring in wonder at hisbeauty, his bright hair, and the shining lyre that he carried in hishand. Ignorant as he was of the gigantic system of superstition thatformed the foundation of the Chaldaic religious life, he stillconcluded, vaguely, that they were regarding him as something more thanhuman, all these people that inclined a little as he usurped their room.As a matter of fact, he had been identified by some as one of theAnnunaki, or earth-spirits; by others as one of the band of Igigi, orheavenly beings, come among them to-day to do honor to his lords andtheirs, the great gods of civil administration and of learning, FatherNebo and his son Nergal.
Here was Charmides at last at his journey's end, standing in the heartof the Great City, upon the A-Ibur-Sabu, the ziggurat of Nebo on hisright hand, the house of the high-priest of Bel opposite, the broadEuphrates winding through the sunshine far in front, and, somewhere tothe north, moving towards him from her holy temple, Istar, the livinggoddess of the city of kings. It all seemed a dream to him now. Themiles that lay between him and his home had put him into another life,still unreal, but always more and more tangible as he looked around andmoved and breathed. The great multitude hardly caught his attention. Hewished himself free to think under the spell of the new world. But now,far up the street, could be seen a whirling cloud of dust, in whichlow-moving forms were all but hidden. These presently resolved intothree droves of animals--goats, bullocks, and sheep for the sacrifice,driven by eunuchs of the temple. The horns of the bullocks were gilded,and the necks of the smaller beasts were twined with wreaths offlowers--just as the hecatombs of Zeus were ornamented at home.Charmides watched the flocks pass with joy at his heart. The familiarsight made Babylon homelike to him. His fingers sought the strings ofhis lyre, and he hummed to himself a genial little tune, that ceasedwhen there rose about him a murmur of exclamations, followed by a quicksilence. Charmides turned his eyes to the north. There again was dust;this time gleaming with brass-work and glinting with trappings ofhorses. Into the silence came a distant sound of cymbals and woodenflutes. The great procession was moving--was coming. _She_ wascoming--Istar--the Lady of Babylon--the Divine One.
The crowd on either side of the street voluntarily pressed back to allowa wider space for the passage of the gods. No one was speaking now, andCharmides himself was breathless with expectation. The waveringdust-cloud advanced towards the square, and the blare of trumpets grewlouder, yet the procession seemed barely to move. Distant shouts ofpraise and acclamation could be heard, and there was a short, silentstruggle for place. That was all. Everything waited.
Presently a phalanx of men, marching in excellent order and at a rapidpace, resolved from the dust and passed the house of the high-priest.These wore the regulation priest's tunic of white muslin; but they hadno goat-skins on the shoulder, and the knives in their girdlesproclaimed them slayers of the sacrifice. They were, in fact, Zicaru, orunder-priests, from the monastery below the temple of Nebo. Behind themcame a chariot, in which stood one man, a tall, muscular fellow, darkand bearded, with the goat-skin over his left arm, a golden girdle abouthis waist, and a rosetted tiara on his head--Vul-Raman of the greatBit-Yakin,[5] high-priest of Nebo, and, next to Amraphel of Bel, themost powerful official of the priesthood. Behind him, borne on theshoulders of six Enu, or elders, and surrounded by a group of sixteenanointers (Pasisu), and officials of the libation (Ramku), was the greatbronze statue of Bel-Marduk, the father-god of the city, before whosepassage the people bent their heads and prayed. After this idol came hispriest Amraphel, ruler of the Babylonish orders, in his dazzlingchariot, wearing a leopard-skin over his cloudy tunic. Charmides lookedinto the face of this man, and in the one glance experienced a curioussensation--a sense of evil that he never quite forgot.
Now there came an apparently endless string of temple-servants, priestsin chariots, and little gods carried by their worshippers. Also therewere groups of prophets (Asipu), dream-interpreters (Makhatu), and thegreat seer Nabu-bani-akhi. Charmides watched them all go by withoutgreat interest, for his expectation was becoming keener. Each moment hethought to perceive, in the distance, _her_; and by the heart-throb thatfollowed the thought he knew that he should recognize her presence fromafar. As time passed, however, he began to grow fearful lest, after all,she was not; lest Kabir, first, and afterwards Hodo and the rest, hadspoken falsely, had deceived him, had brought him to this great, lonelyplace, out of his world, with no hope of return, and no prospect inlife. The thought brought a spasm of fear to his heart. Yet--yet--there,up the line, was a great burst of music from a band of musicians thatsurrounded a new, dazzling chariot, in which stood a solitary figure,clad--Charmides turned faint and shut his eyes. Then, hearing shouts ofacclamation, he opened them again, fearfully, and looked up to behold--aman.
The first feeling was wholly of bewilderment. Then, as the rhapsode'seyes saw more, they forgot to fall. If Istar of Babylon was a man, atleast he was one to look upon with wonder. Never before had Charmidesbeheld so imperial a face. Never had he imagined such features. Theskin, as compared with his own, was very dark; yet it was whiter thanthat of any other Chaldee. Black hair, cut almost short, clustered aboutthe head. The face was smooth-shaven, after the custom of the royalhouse; and, though Charmides could not see it from where he stood, theeyes were blue--the deep, purplish blue of a storm-cloud. The man worethe dress of the priesthood, yet it went incongruously with his bearing.Power and the habit of command stood out in every line of his figure, inthe Zeus-like poise of the head, in the hand that controlled the twopowerful black horses which drew the chariot along. If this wereIstar--well, Charmides could hardly regret. So much he muttered aloud,in Phoenician. To his amazement, the words were answered from behind him:
"That is no Istar, fool! That is Belshazzar, the prince royal, thetyrant of Babylon."
"And Istar--the goddess!" cried the Greek, turning to the man thatspoke.
"The creature Istar? She comes," was the frowning reply made by thehook-nosed, ill-kempt man at his shoulder.
Charmides said no more. His pulses were throbbing violently. At a littledistance he perceived a new vehicle, a triumphal-car, at the approach ofwhich the great masses of people to the right and left sank, as a man,to their knees, bowing to the dust. Charmides raised his eyes and beheldher sitting upon the broad platform of the car. And as he looked, as heknelt, even as his brow touched the ground, Charmides knew that he hadnot been deceived, that rumor had spoken truth, because more than truthcould not here be spoken. Yet when she had passed, the Greek did notknow her. He had not seen so much as a line of her figure. She swam in aglory of light that radiated from herself. Her head had been crowned,yet with what he did not know. His heart and head were afire, and heheeded nothing more of the procession. Most of all, he did not hear thewords of the man behind him, who had knelt with the rest at the approachof the car, because fear of death is a great leveller; but had the wordsthat he muttered been heard and understood by the populace, it isdoubtful whether all his influence had saved his life from them.
"Asha confound this instrument of evil! Yahveh's wrath light upon hersoul! God of Judea visit her with the fires of Sheol!" And then theformer servant of Nebuchadrezzar the Great rose and turned away throughthe crowd. Charmides later sought vainly for his Phoenician-tonguedinformant, whom men to-day call Daniel the prophet
.
While the Greek still stood, dazed and stupid, his head swimming withthe delight of knowing her actually to be, the procession passed, and agreat multitude of people swept along at its heels towards the templesquare. Any attempt to force a passage through that packed throng wouldhave been useless. This Charmides perceived at once, and presently, asthe crowd melted away from where he stood, he turned and began to walkslowly towards the north, along the A-Ibur-Sabu. In the street therewere not a few people who, like himself, had felt it useless to try fora place to see the sacrifice, and, the procession over, were on the wayhome, perhaps to some family festival. But Charmides saw little enoughof those around him. His feet moved mechanically while his thoughtssoared.
He had seen her--he had seen Istar. The object of his journey was over;and yet--to leave Babylon now, without knowing more of her, wasimpossible. He felt that while Babylon was the shrine of such a being,in Babylon he must worship. Sicily, his friends, his mother, were nowbecome things of another life--things fair and dear to think upon, butfor which he no longer yearned. Istar, far above his reach as she was,yet made his interest, his religion--in fine, his home--in this newland.
It was while such thoughts as these were mingling in his heart that theGreek found himself brought to a halt. He had come to the end of thefamous street that terminated in a square nearly two miles north of thetemples of Nebo and his son and the square of the gods. On the edge ofthe new square Charmides paused and looked around him. Beside him, tothe right and to the left, were two large buildings of the usual brick,low-roofed, and surrounded by walls in which the great wrought bronzegates were shut. Through their bars he caught glimpses of fair gardensfilled with flowers of brilliant hues and shaded by flowering bushes andtall date-palms. But in these places there was no sign of life; nor wasany living creature to be seen on the flat roofs that served, inBabylon, the purpose of summer living-rooms. On the right-hand side ofthe square stood what was unmistakably a temple. Here, on the top of thebroad platform, and again on the steps ascending it, and about the opendoors of the holy house, several people moved, while others were dottedon the broad incline that ran around the outside of the ziggurat, ortower, without which no holy building was complete, and which stood,campanile-like, to the left of the temple itself.
Glad of company, even that of total strangers, and seeing that theplatform stair offered opportunity for a much-needed rest, Charmidesmoved wearily across the square, mounted a step or two, and sat downwith a long sigh of relief. Near him were three or four people--vendersof various commodities suited to the place. An old man held between hisknees a basket of small, clay bricks, inscribed with Accadian prayers.Close to him was a scribe of a semi-religious order, ready provided withcuneiform iron and a supply of kneaded clay. A little beyond, a streetwater-carrier had stopped to rest, with his heavy pigskin beside him.Nearest of all was a young girl, holding on her lap a basket ofnosegays. The picture in itself was pleasing; but Charmides soondiscovered about it something that interested him much more. This wasthe sight of half a wheaten loaf and a handful of dates that lay, nearlycovered with a bit of cloth, in a corner of the flower-basket.
The nourishment in Charmides' early breakfast of goat's milk had notserved to keep up his strength so long as this, and now the sight ofsolid food made him faint for it. He hesitated a little what to do; forhe could not be sure whether what he saw were the girl's noonday meal orthe remains of it. Having gazed long and eagerly, however, at the loaf,he suddenly lifted his eyes to encounter her own--very pretty ones theywere--fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Thereuponcourage born of hunger came upon the rhapsode with a mighty rush. Herose and went over to the side of the flower-girl, and, taking from hisbag the coppers given him by Baba, he proffered them all to theflower-seller. Smiling till she showed a very pretty set of small, whiteteeth, she picked up all her remaining bouquets and held them up to himin both hands. Charmides looked at them lovingly, but shook his head.With surprise written in her face, the girl put them down again andseemed to wait for him to speak. Thereupon Charmides seated himselfcarefully on the other side of the basket, put one finger on the wheatenloaf, pointed to his mouth, and looked inquiringly at his new friend.She understood instantly, and, laughing, took up the food and set itbefore the Greek.
While he ate they talked--in the universal language of primitive soundsand gestures. And so skilful at this occupation did the two of them findthemselves, that Charmides shortly learned how the girl had partaken ofher noon meal some time before, and that he was quite welcome to whatwas left of it. Hereupon the rhapsode spread out all his _se_, nine ofthem, in a neat row, and suggested that she take as many as the breadand fruit were worth. The maiden hesitated over this part of the affair,but, as Charmides was quite firm, she finally picked out three of thecoppers and put them in a little pouch hanging from her girdle; andCharmides perceived, without much thinking about it, that this pouch wasthe counterpart of that from which Baba had that morning extracted hischange.
During his meal, which Charmides caused to last for some time, his eyeswere much employed. He was making a careful scrutiny of his newcompanion--one so very careful that, in the interest of it, the awe andfiery enthusiasm excited in him by the sight of Istar was graduallydispelled. Thus he came gracefully down to human interests, anddiscovered that this Babylonian maid was rather more to his taste thanany Doric Sicilian he could remember.
In very truth, Ramua of Beltani's house, the flower-girl of the templeof the great goddess, was a goodly sight for tired eyes. Young and freshof color, sweet of voice, and modest of demeanor she always was. To besure, her long tunic was colorless, old, and much patched. Her prettyfeet were bare, and her only head-covering the long, silken hair thatwas plaited and coiled round and round her shapely head. But it had beena pity to hide those glossy locks under the rarest of coronets. Nojewels that she could have worn would have rivalled her eyes inbrilliancy; and as for the small, brown feet--Charmides surveyed themcovertly with unique enjoyment, and could not remember to have seen asandal fit to grace them.
Musing in this profitable fashion, the rhapsode finished his meal, andinvested another _se_ in the purchase of a cup of water from thewater-seller. This he proffered first to the girl, who refused it withexceeding grace, and a very definite hope in her eyes that the sunnyGreek would not yet depart. Evidently he had ideas of so doing, for,returning to her side, but not sitting down, he once more pronounced hispass-word:
"Istar?"
"This is her temple," was the quick reply, as Ramua pointed to the topof the platform.
Charmides caught hopefully at the gesture. "This is the temple of Istar?The goddess will return here?" he asked, uselessly, in Greek.
Ramua smiled at him.
Charmides felt irritated and helpless. He looked from the girl to thetemple, and back again. Then he paused, wavered, might perhaps havecursed in his own tongue, and finally sat down again where he had beenbefore. Silence ensued. Ramua played in a very unbusiness-like way witha flower, till she had spoiled it. Charmides, more stolid and lessconcerned, stared out upon the sunny square and down the far stretch ofthe A-Ibur-Sabu, from which far-distant sounds of music came faintly tohis ears. Gradually he fell into a noonday reverie, from which he wasroused by Ramua, who, hoping perhaps to attract his attention, hadlifted his lyre and was running her hand over its strings. Charmideslooked up at her in surprise, and at once she held the instrument out tohim, motioning him to play. Nothing loath, he took it, stood up, andturned to her. For a moment his hand wandered among the strings. Then hefound the melody he sought, and sang it to her in full-throated,mellifluous Greek--the myth of the Syracusan nymph, Arethuse, andAlpheus, the river-god.
The flower-girl listened spellbound to such sounds as she had neverheard before; and, on stopping, Charmides found a group of pedestrians,attracted by his song, standing near at hand behind him. One of them, astiff-robed, high-crowned nobleman, tossed him a piece of money at theconclusion of the poem. Charmides took it up wit
h a momentary impulse tothrow it back at the man. Prudence, however, came to his aid, and, aftera moment of inward rebellion, he accepted the coin, realizing thatchance had just shown him a way for a future livelihood. He might,perhaps, have sung again, but for an interruption that claimed theattention of every one around the temple.
The noise of distant trumpets had become much louder, and two specksafar down the A-Ibur-Sabu had by now resolved themselves into atwo-horse chariot and the car of Istar--both of them coming towards thetemple.
Charmides' heart bounded as he distinguished the radiant figure that satupon the golden platform of the divine vehicle. So he was to see heragain--now--so soon. This time, if she passed him closely, she mighteven see him. And if her eyes should fall upon him--_had_ she eyes? Hadshe features and organs? Was she, in fact, anything but a mystic visionthat people saw dizzily and turned from, half blinded? He glanced downat the flower-girl by his side, and it came over him with a rush ofpleasure that she was human and susceptible to human emotions.
Istar's car approached the platform steps. It was followed by theattendant chariot, in which Charmides once more beheld Belshazzar, the"tyrant of Babylon," whom at first sight he had reckoned as a demi-god.As the car stopped, the prince leaped from his place and went to standnear the goddess as she alighted. The little company of people that hadassembled to watch Istar's arrival, bent the knee. Charmides aloneremained upright--why, he could not have told. Certainly it was not fromlack of reverence. His eyes were fixed upon the form of Istar, whilewith all the strength of his mind he strove to pierce the veil ofimpenetrable, dazzling light that hung about her like a garment. As sherose from her sitting posture, Charmides looked to see her slaves offerassistance in her descent from the high place. But the eunuchs at herhorses' heads did not move, and Belshazzar stood motionless on the firststep, his head slightly bowed, but his strange eyes fixed as eagerly asCharmides' own.
Presently the goddess was beside the prince. How she had descended,Charmides did not know. He seemed to have seen her float down a shaft oflight to the ground.
After performing the proper obeisance to their lady, the people rose, asIstar, with Belshazzar at her elbow, began to ascend the platform steps.Charmides could see that her feet moved, yet they barely touched thebricks. He did not know, however, that a year ago she had had no needfor steps. As yet, it had never even been whispered by any man that shewas more than formerly of earth.
One, two, three stairs Istar mounted. The young Greek was choking withexcitement. In another moment she would be abreast of him--nay, wasabreast of him, had ceased to move, had turned her head. Belshazzar, onthe other side, halted in astonishment. Charmides' heart stopped. Hefound himself looking into a pair of great, unfathomable eyes that gazedinto his own with the light of all knowledge. At the look, courage,confidence, and an unspeakable joy took possession of him. Withoutamazement he heard her speak to him in his own tongue.
"Welcome, thou Charmides, to Babylon! I had word of your coming whenAllaraine banished thy desert fever, in order that the Great City, and Iin it, should know thy voice."
"Istar!"
"The journey has been long, and has taken patience and fortitude."
"The way has been but a dream of my goddess. Long ago, through LordApollo, I beheld thee."
"Yes--in the temple of Selinous--that dedicated to Apollo, who isAllaraine to me. Charmides, you have no home in Babylon. Will you takeup an abode in that of the flower-girl beside you?"
Charmides made no answer in words. Turning a little towards the younggirl, who stood, pale and wide-eyed, on his right hand, he smiled ather.
Then Istar also turned to Ramua, and spoke in Chaldaic: "Thou, maiden,take you at evening-time this stranger home to the house of your mother,Beltani, and keep him there as he were one of you; and in return he willbring you great happiness. This is my wish."
Ramua fell again upon her knees and bowed her head upon the clay bricks.She was incapable of speech; but the flush of crimson that hadoverspread her face told Istar that the command would not be unwillinglyobeyed. Then the goddess turned again to the Greek.
"Charmides, go thou home to-night with the maiden here. Her name iscalled Ramua, and she is of her mother Beltani, that is a widow. Atsunset, when her flowers are gone, follow you after her. And again youshall come to me in my temple and play to me the music of your lyre. Youhave heard the chords of Allaraine of the skies. They shall come againto you to fill your heart with peace, and you shall be the mostwonderful of all musicians in the Great City. Let, then, far Sicily,vanish forever from your mind."
Charmides bowed low. His tongue was tied with awe. He knew not whatreply to make to her. When he lifted his eyes again she had passed, andwas floating like a silver cloud across the great platform towards theopen portals of the temple. Thereupon the Greek turned his face toRamua, and, as he clasped her hand in his and saw her black eyes liftedup, he laughed in his heart with joy of the Great City, and what he hadfound it to hold for him.