Istar of Babylon: A Phantasy
XI
FROM THE HOUSE OF HEAVEN
When Daniel was far beyond the range of Istar's vision he did not lessenthe rapidity of his gait. Rather, he increased it, till the last fiveyards of his descent of the ziggurat were done in a quick run; and thefew people already abroad in the square of Istar looked up in amazementto see the unkempt figure of the slinking Jew advancing at an eager trotacross the open space and into the A-Ibur-Sabu.
Beltishazzar, however, had at that time little thought for the opinionsof the people whom he passed. The one thing that he desired aboveall others, the thing that had assumed a place paramount to hisdisinterested historical desires--the downfall of Babylon and thefreeing of his race--had come to pass. Moreover, the accomplishment ofit was, apparently, by the will of God alone. Surely no man earnestlywishful of attaining to a certain end ever arrived at it by simpler ormore thorough process. It was a miracle. It required no explanation, notwisting of facts, no blustering denunciations. Who would ask strongerproof of the mortality of this impostor than the sight of her child, andher own weakness? Reverence for the mother-love, for its beauty, forheart's peace, did not occur to the prophet. He felt that Istar's greatsin, her tremendous fraud, her immense daring, were things that astatesman might secretly marvel at, possibly admire, in a way. Butnaturally these feelings would never be expressed.
In such a course wound Daniel's triumphant thoughts as he hurried withthem down the wide street towards the palace of the high-priest of Bel.It was unusually early in the day for an interview with Amraphel; and ofthis the Jew had scarcely stopped to think when he halted before theouter gate of the ecclesiastical dwelling. The night-guards had not yetmade way for the more gorgeously attired eunuchs of the day; but the Jewwas too familiar a figure to all Amraphel's household to be deniedadmittance by any of his servants. There was some little doubt expressedas to their lord's having risen. But the doubts were couched in reverentterms, and shortly the lean and ill-kempt Jew was ushered through thevast, empty courts and halls, to the little dining-room of thehigh-priest's private suite.
Only two slaves, servitors, were in this room when the visitor enteredit; and these were busy preparing for the arrival of the master. Thewrought ivory and ebony couch had already been drawn up before the tableon which various fruits were laid out. And shortly after Daniel made hisappearance; a place was added to the table and an arm-chair drawn to it,evidently for him. He would have seated himself, when there camea sound of steps in the passage-way, and Amraphel, white-robed andwhiter-bearded, came in, followed by two cringing slaves bearing thelong-handled feather fans in use even at this early season. Beltishazzarread the priestly mood at sight. It bore small relation to that benignand fatherly manner assumed for the morning sacrifice, and coming onnaturally of an evening, after the long day of adulation and worship.Daniel almost prostrated himself on the old man's entrance, and got inreturn a slight acknowledgment of his presence, and the words:
"Is your visit early, Jew, or the last of your night?"
"The last.--May it please you, lord of Bel, to see me alone. My news isnot such as should grow cold. Over it, all Babylon will laugh for joy."
Amraphel looked at this companion of many schemes a little sourly as hesank back on his couch, and took up an orange from its dish of gold."What is the nature of this laughing news that you should impart it bystealth?"
Suddenly Daniel lost his patience--a thing not usual with him. "My lordreceives it thus"--he snapped his fingers--"and behold, I take it toVul-Raman of Bit-Yakin, who, hearing it, will not scoff." And the Jewactually made as if to get up from his chair.
"Stop!" cried the high-priest, sharply. "There is no cause for anger.Sit you, and we will speak of it."
Daniel shrugged his indifference, but slipped into his chair again,without, however, offering to touch food.
My lord looked round upon his slaves, indicating each of them with alittle glance, and designating those that fanned him with a gesture."Depart and leave us," he said, shortly.
His command was obeyed with decided alacrity, and when the bare feet hadpatted their noiseless way far down the adjoining corridor, Danielstraightened up in his chair with a little rustle and said, in a lowtone: "My news, Amraphel, is, shortly, this: Istar of Babylon, whom wehave feared, is a woman--a woman, weak, powerless, full of sin."
Daniel paused, and Amraphel looked at him with a little curl of the lip."Is that all?" he said, after a pause. "Is that all? Art thou drunk,Jew?"
Daniel did not lose his temper now. He smiled, contemplatively, and wenton: "Nay, I am not drunk, lord high-priest, neither is that all mynews--yet, in a way, it is all told. If all Babylon knew too well thatIstar were a woman--and weak--and sinful? _Hein?_ Would it not beenough?"
"If the _people_ knew--the people--yea, it might be."
Thereupon Daniel told without more ado all that he had seen, and howIstar lay at this moment in her sanctuary with the infant in her arms.
Then, indeed, Amraphel was touched to the quick. Verily, here was news!Here was such news as caused the most unemotional man in the Great Cityto start up from his couch and pace the floor with hurried and unevensteps, his eyes alight, his pale face tinged with red excitement, hishands busily twisting his robe. It was some moments before he spoke,but, once begun, Daniel sat silent and amazed.
"Ah, Beltishazzar, wisely mayst thou rejoice now. Babylon--Babylon, thecity of Nabopolassar, my father, shall at last stand free before me!Listen, listen, all ye people! Istar of Babylon is fallen. She is fallenwho reigned as a goddess--over me. Mark me, Jew, time was when Istar ofBabylon was divine. The glory of the unknown God flowed around her. Herlips spoke truth. In her heart was hidden all knowledge. The life thatshe lived was unapproachable by mortal man. And while she remained thus,I dared not try my full power in the city.
"But now--now! Ah, Beltishazzar, now the fear is gone! The goddess hastasted the bitterness of human love and is become mortal. Her sin hasfound her out. To-day, even to-day, she shall be driven from that templethat her presence defiles. Her downfall shall be cried aloud to themthat have worshipped her. Her disgrace shall be proclaimed throughoutthe kingdom. Let her invoke what aid she may, human or divine! I defyher now to deny me omnipotence in Babylon.
"And thou, Daniel--thou that broughtest this word--have no fear that thypeople shall lack favor in my sight, and in the sight of the mighty lordof Elam. Let us henceforth work together for that end which, in the nameof our gods and of the God of Judah, shall be accomplished within theyear!"
He paused in his speech and in his walk, and his head fell uponhis breast. He descended quickly, did Amraphel, from heroics topracticality; and this, perhaps, was one reason of his great success inlife. Daniel eyed him in silence till the echoes of the tirade had diedaway and there had been time for thought. Then he said, shortly:
"You will drive her from the temple, Amraphel? How?"
"By Nebo, with an ox-goad, that is used for cattle!"
Daniel shrugged incredulously. "And whither drive you her?"
"She may go, if she will, to her proper abode--the temple of falseIstar, near the gate of the setting sun."
Daniel drew a sharp breath. "Father Abraham!" he muttered, himselfamazed at Amraphel's pitiless joy in triumph. Then, a moment later, headded: "It is a just ending. Well, my lord, I take my departure now."
"Thy departure! By Marduk, thou shalt come with me to the temple! Thoumust be at my side when I enter her shrine."
Daniel cringed quickly, and proffered a swift excuse. Keen he might be;bold in his way; master of diplomacy, of deceit, and cunning; butdiscreet, cautious, nay, cowardly, when it came to his personal safety,he was always. It was true that Istar was no more and no less than aweak and unfortunate woman; but enough of divinity still clung to thethought of her to keep the Jew far from any desire to stand before thepeople as her accuser. Amraphel might be angry, might persuade orcommand. In the present matter Beltishazzar was immovable. Amraphelrecognized it presently, and saw that nothing was to
be done but tosummon Vul-Raman, with all possible speed, from the neighboring temple,and to command a chariot to be prepared at once and brought into theouter court of the palace.
These things were quickly done; and Daniel had been gone for manyminutes by the time Vul-Raman answered the peremptory summons and stoodbefore his superior. The priest of Nebo was in a temper, and greetedAmraphel in an undisguisedly irritable tone.
"My lord, it is the hour for sacrifice. My place was at the altar. Byyour message hath Nebo lost his morning savor, and the temple the fleshof three goats. What is needed of me here?"
"And has the freeing of Babylon cost the price of three goats, OBit-Yakin? Pray thou for strength to endure the loss!"
Vul-Raman looked at him in displeasure. "Are thy words oracles?" hesaid, sourly.
"Within the hour their light will illume thy understanding. Now thou artto drive with me up to the temple of Istar. They bring my cloak."
Vul-Raman looked on with sudden interest as two slaves entered the roomwhere he stood. One of them carried a long, woollen garment of Tyrianweave, heavily embroidered in golden threads in a pattern containing thevarious symbols of the different gods. It was a mantle worn only uponthe greatest occasions. This being fastened upon Amraphel's shoulderswith well-wrought pins of gold, the second slave crowned the high-priestwith his golden-feathered tiara, sandalled him with sandals embroideredin the same rich metal, and finally put into his hand something thatcaused Vul-Raman to exclaim:
"What, in the name of Nergal's holiness, do you with the bullock's goad,Amraphel!"
"Come you with me, Vul-Raman. Our way lies to the north, to the templeof Istar. From it I shall drive forth the false woman that dwells therereceiving worship. For--"
"Amraphel!" Vul-Raman stopped short. "Art thou raving? What canst thoudo against Istar? Because by her mercy we are spared punishment for ourlast sin against her, darest thou again attempt her downfall? Attempt itby such means as this? If thy mind has not left thy body, then thinearrogance leads thee to death!"
The high-priest waited till the other had finished his protest. Then hesaid, calmly: "Istar of Babylon is a woman with child. Her divinity isgone. I go to drive her from the heavenly house."
In silence the two men proceeded to the court-yard, where, surrounded bya group of slaves, stood the golden chariot with its white horses andflashing harness. The driver stood holding the reins in his hands. Onthe arrival of the two priests there was a general obeisance. Amraphelentered the vehicle first. Vul-Raman, not without a perceptiblehesitation, followed him. The master raised his hand, the driver shoutedto his steeds, and the powerful animals, with one spring, shot forward,drawing the whirring chariot after them through the bronze gate way, outinto the A-Ibur-Sabu.
"The temple of Istar!" said Amraphel.
The flashing wheels turned to the north, and in brave silence theyproceeded towards the square at the end of the broad street. Not a wordwas spoken during the drive. The two priests, one on either side of thedriver, stood like statues--Vul-Raman with a face as white as a summercloud, Amraphel in immovable calm. The right hand of the high-priestrested on the rim of the chariot in front of him. His left, the one withwhich he clasped the short, black goad, with its two cruel leathernthongs, hung at his side. As they went along, the people in the streetstopped to stare in curiosity as to the wherefore of Amraphel's statemagnificence, and Vul-Raman's appearance so far from his temple at thehour of morning sacrifice. When finally they entered the square ofIstar, it was wholly deserted; for service was going on in the temple,and a respectable throng was assembled to witness the weekly slaughterof doves and the broiling of their flesh over the cone-fire on thealtar.
"Istar will be there at the sacrifice, doubtless," whispered Vul-Raman,hurriedly, as they alighted together at the steps of the platform.
"Let us seek her," was all the reply he got. Amraphel exhibited not atrace of uneasiness, and yet, to a certain extent, the fear of thepriest of Nebo had its effect on him. Mentally he cursed the prudentcowardice of Daniel, who, having arranged this situation, had left himto run the chance of disgrace and defeat alone.
As they came to the door of the temple the two priests found themselvesconfronting the throng of men and women who were just emerging intodaylight. The sacrifice was over. But as Amraphel, in all hismagnificence halted before them in the door-way, the people also came toa stand-still, lowered their heads, and waited silently to learn ifthere was a reason for his coming. For some seconds, however, Amraphelstood passive. He perceived the officiating priestess coming towards himfrom the altar, and he waited for her to reach his side. Then she, andBit-Yakin, and finally the high-priest, performed the ceremoniousgreetings of the religious code; and only after these were over didAmraphel say:
"We seek the lady--Istar of Babylon. Is she in the temple, O servant ofthe great goddess?"
"The spirit of the goddess hath attended on the sacrifice. So spake theomens, most high lord," was the disturbed reply.
"Belit Istar, then, is not here?"
"Nay, Lord Amraphel. She is in her shrine at the top of the ziggurat, towhich she retired at sunset yesterday."
"We will ascend into her presence."
The priestess started. "Nay--nay! Let my lord remain here below. Thegoddess is alone with her brothers. She commands that none shall ascendto her to-day."
"Begone, woman!" shouted Amraphel, suddenly breaking out into a verywell-arranged burst of anger. "Begone, thou deceived and deceivingservant of a false goddess! Hear ye, ye people!" And he turned to theastonished multitude. "Hear ye who, for many months--nay, years--haveworshipped at an altar of evil! Istar of Babylon, whom, unknowing, yehave called Belit, spouse of the great Bel, is no goddess. As the greatgods have revealed to me by night, she is but a woman, sacrilegiouslydwelling in the house of heaven, accepting the homage of the multitude,delivering oracles from the mercy-seat, receiving offerings and thesacrifice day by day throughout the months, deceiving you and them thatdwell with you. Now I come to expose her and to deliver her up to you todo with as ye will. Come ye forth and assemble about the foot of theziggurat while I ascend, that ye may behold her when she comes forthfrom the holy shrine of the outraged goddess that dwells afar from us inthe silver sky."
Amraphel made this speech with such an air of mingled sorrow andoutraged dignity that Vul-Raman, for all his amazement, could not butapplaud it. The crowd showed less indignation than bewilderment andcuriosity. But as the old man turned from them to cross the platform,the people followed him like sheep, leaving only the wailing hierodulesbehind them in the temple.
Bit-Yakin and the high-priest arrived at the foot of the ziggurat sideby side, with the foremost of the company ten feet behind. Here, oncemore, Amraphel turned to them, raising his right hand majestically as hespoke: "Wait here for her whom I shall drive unto you; but see that, onpenalty of the wrath of the gods, ye ascend not to the shrine."
Then, hearing the low murmur that told the acquiescence of the obedientflock, Amraphel and his shadow began their ascent. From below, thepeople watched them in growing wonder, in growing uneasiness. They hadseen the ox-goad in the high-priest's hand, and they were thrilled withstrange terrors as they considered what its use might be. Istar--theirIstar--Istar, the great goddess--flogged! Impossible! Yet--yet--thecuriosity was upon them, and they waited to see.
And now the two priests stood at the door-way of the shrine. Theleathern curtain was closed before them. Nothing could be seen. Therewas a little pause, and, for the shadow of an instant, Amraphel wavered.Vul-Raman, closely watching him, felt his heart sink.
"Shall I lift the curtain?" he whispered, devoutly hoping for a negativereply.
But Amraphel had gone too far now to falter. He nodded.
The heart of the priest of Nebo gave a throb of fear. He made no move toobey the command. Amraphel glanced at him sharply, took one stepforward, and dragged the curtain from the door.
There was a low, frightened cry, supplemented by a weak wail from afaint and te
nder voice. The high-priest shaded his eyes with his handtill he could see into the interior of the room; and then, indeed, hisheart beat high.
In that room, sitting now upon the great golden chair, was Istar ofBabylon. She was clothed in the long, white, woollen tunic, that wasscarcely so pale as her face. She was unveiled, and her silken hair,unbound and tangled, fell over her whole form and down to the floor oneither side. Upon her knees, wrapped in a square of sacrificial muslin,its little form bathed in a dim, effulgent light that radiated from itsbody, lay the babe--her child.
Upon the entrance of the two priests, after the one startled cry, Istarsat perfectly quiet, her drawn face no whiter than before, her great,dark eyes staring wonderingly at the intruders, her breath coming andgoing rapidly between her parted lips.
Amraphel, whose self-composure had returned to him doubled in strengthnow that he was sure of his position, stood surveying her leisurely,with undisguised triumph. Vul-Raman, on the other side, had also losthis fear. His delight at the turn of affairs was hardly less than hisamazement; for, since the morning at Erech, Istar had had, in allBabylonia, no firmer believer in her divinity than Vul-Raman ofBit-Yakin. Yet now, human, mortal, weak, she certainly was. Fitting,indeed, was it that she should leave the temple of the great goddess.And as he thought upon the manner of her expulsion, his lips curled inan involuntary smile.
At that moment Istar's eyes were resting on his face. She saw hisexpression, and she read all the cruelty of it; for suddenly, raisingthe infant in her arms, she rose to her feet.
"Why have you come hither?" she whispered, hoarsely, her eyes movingfrom one to the other.
"Thou deceiver! Thou blasphemer! Thou thing of evil, of unholiness! Weare come in the name of her whose abode thou hast so long profaned, todrive thee forth from E-Ana to thy true dwelling--the temple of thefalse Istar!"
Istar's nostrils quivered with scorn. She lifted her head in a finalproud defiance of the words of the high-priest. At the same instantAmraphel's left hand was raised. The goad whirred through the air, andthe thongs came stinging across the face of the woman.
A sharp scream, that could be heard by the multitude below, rang outfrom the shrine on the ziggurat. The woman caught her baby close to herbreast, shielding it as well as she could with both arms. The cut of thewhip had left a bright crimson weal across both cheeks and just over hermouth. The goad was lifted over her again, and this time she shrankbackward from it.
"Get you forth, false creature, from the heavenly house!" criedVul-Raman, in raucous tones.
Amraphel moved out of her path, and Istar, blind and dumb with terrorand amazement, started towards the door. As she went the whip fellagain, this time on her shoulders, and again the scream followed it.Hugging the babe yet closer to her breast, she ran out upon the zigguratplatform in the blaze of the sunlight, and, with Amraphel and Vul-Ramanclose at her heels, began an ever-hastening descent, round and round thetower, towards the square below. Up to her ears, from that square, camea long-drawn, minor groan. The people below were waiting for her,waiting for her as vultures wait. Behind her, driving her on to them,were their priests. She herself, helpless, bewildered, numb with thepain of exertion, beside herself with a desperate, fierce sense ofmother-protection, knew scarcely what she did, was unmindful of whatmust come to her.
Since the priests had left them, the numbers of the crowd wereconsiderably swelled. Istar's temple-servants, eunuchs and women both,had come pouring from the temple and the dwelling to witness the issueof this undreamed-of struggle. Also every one that entered the square ofIstar, whether on foot or in chariot, had either been directly summonedby the mob or had joined it voluntarily from curiosity. These people, bynow two hundred strong, were awaiting the development of the affair inan undecisive humor. More of them believed in the divinity of Istar thanin the word of Amraphel, powerful as he was. But now, suddenly, therewas to be seen, circling towards them from above, a woman's figure,utterly dishevelled, with long hair flying about her and straightwoollen tunic impeding her progress, clasping in both arms a tinybundle, and fleeing, in very evident terror, from those that followedher, one of whom held the goad uplifted in his hand. And as herweakness, her mortality, her too evident confusion, became apparent, thepeople felt all the old, inherent savagery of their race rise over thelately acquired civilization, and they watched with delight the approachof their helpless prey.
Istar, as she came nearer the ground, could see the crowd there close upits ranks and draw nearer the foot of the tower. She realized itsattitude instantly, and her heart palpitated fast with excitement. Goback she could not. Keep on she must. And soon she reached the last fewfeet of the inclined plane, and felt the very breath, hot and hostile,of her one-time worshippers rise about her. She stopped, faltering. Hershoulders quivered in expectation of a blow; for Amraphel was close uponher. The blow was struck--fiercely--and it cut through her garment likea knife, blackening the white skin beneath it. At the same timeAmraphel's voice thundered out to all the crowd:
"I bring ye the false witch out of the holy temple of Istar. Do with heras ye think fitting and meet, in reverence to the outraged goddess."
There was a deep, universal cry, a cry of hatred, of triumph, of thepurest brutality, from the throng. Istar, looking down upon the massedfaces before her, reeled slightly. Then, for her child's sake, with amighty effort she straightened up again. Knowing not what else to do,she stepped forward to the crowd. A great hand was quickly thrust intoher face. Another struck her on the shoulder--but not so cruelly as thewhip could strike. A dozen men seized her about the body. Then she lostevery feeling save only one, that was more an instinct than a definiteidea. She must protect her child. She must save it, while she lived,from the hands of her assailants. She was in the very midst of the mob.Heads, arms, hands, all struggled around and towards her, striking,bumping, pushing her. Her hair and her tunic were torn. No one as yethad threatened her with a weapon; but this, she felt, was only a matterof time; and then vaguely she commended herself to the God whose willhad been hers also.
All at once, however, she felt more room around her. She was in themiddle of a small, empty space, about which her own eunuchs stood in acircle, their backs to her, fighting with the men of the mob that soughtto reach her. With a gleam of hope, she saw that all were not hostile.Her head swam and the world grew misty around her, yet still she clungto her shred of consciousness, that she might keep the baby safe. And,while she still controlled herself, some one appeared out of the tangleof struggling forms. Some one came close to her side, saying to her, ina once familiar voice:
"Belit Istar, keep to my side, and I will make a way for you throughthese men."
Istar turned her half-blinded eyes upon the defender, and smiled athim--the golden-haired, the silver-voiced, whom long ago she hadsheltered in her shrine.
"I will keep to thy side--Char-mides. Or--I die here. Yet I fear notdeath. Life--only--is--terrible," she muttered, faintly.
The Greek did not answer her. Seeing an opening in the throng, he threwone arm around her, and, holding his right hand out in front of themboth, hurried quickly forward. Istar never remembered how it happened.She saw her eunuchs all around her. She knew little of the angry peoplebeyond. Presently she and her rescuer stood together beyond the mob onthe edge of the platform steps.
"Thy eunuchs, I think, will keep the crowd from pursuit. They have beenbravely true to thee. Now, canst reach my dwelling, lady? The way isfar."
"To thy dwelling I cannot go. May the Almighty God make thee foreverhappy! Leave me now. I follow my path alone."
Charmides regarded her as slightly crazy. As she started quickly forwardhe kept close at her side. "Come with me--a little to the right," hesuggested, gently.
She shook her head. "Nay, Charmides, I know the way. It is to the houseof my lord that I go. Haste! Haste! They follow me!"
She started forward as she spoke, running in terror down the steps intothe square, and turning unhesitatingly into the A-Ibur-Sabu. Charmideskept t
o her and supported her as she went, knowing not what else to do,not daring to take the child, to which she clung with such amother-clasp that none could have presumed to ask her to relinquish it.And in this wise they proceeded together up the great road, finallyturning into the street of Palaces leading towards the river. As theypassed, no man or woman failed to turn and stare at the couple, forsurely such a sight as this had never before been seen in Babylon. Howlong the walk lasted, minutes, hours, or days, or how it was that Istarkept from losing consciousness after the terrible hour she had beenthrough, Charmides never knew. Some of the agony, mental and physical,that the woman was enduring he could read in her face. The greater partof it no mortal could have known or borne, for it was the death of herimmortal existence and the beginning of her real earth-life, her life asa human being, a woman without power, without strength, withoutknowledge of what was to come.
Noon glared over the city as the two of them reached the border of thehunting-park that surrounded Nabu-Nahid's palace. A little farther alongwas the palace gate-way, with its group of guards in their magnificentliveries. Charmides looked at them in despair, for surely the poor womanat his side would meet with no courtesy here. Such fears did not troubleIstar. Advancing to the first soldier, she said at once:
"Admit me, now, to"--she faltered over the name--"to my LordBelshazzar."
For a moment the man stared into her haggard and colorless face, crossedwith the red weal of the whip, looked into the wild eyes, saw the burdenthat she bore, and laughed.
Istar heard him, saw him, was still and silent for a moment, and thenturned dully to Charmides. The Greek's eyes brimmed with tears--tears ofrage at his helplessness and unutterable pity for Istar.
"Belit, come away with me. I will keep you till my lord receives youhere," he whispered to her imploringly.
Istar shook her head and turned hurriedly to the second man. "I will betaken to my Lord Belshazzar! Admit me to him!" she cried, querulously.
"There is he, then, if you would speak to him," was the jeering answer,as the man, with a grin, swept his thumb in the direction of the firstcourt, just inside the gate.
Istar darted forward to look.
"Thou fool! Now she will scream!" said the first soldier to his comrade.
Truly enough, Belshazzar was in the court, walking slowly towards thegate of his wing of the palace. Istar's eyes fell on him instantly. Shesmiled a little. Then--she called:
"Belshazzar! Belshazzar--my lord!"
At the first syllable Belshazzar stopped, lifted his bowed head, andlistened. At the repetition of the cry he turned towards the gate andcame running--running as never before, towards it. The guards, watchinghim in something like consternation, opened the gate at his approach.
"Istar! Istar! Thou--here!" came in a great cry of love, of anger, ofineffable pity, from the lips of the prince royal.
Istar tremulously smiled, and held out her infant to her husband."I--have--come," she whispered, vaguely. Then, as Belshazzar took thechild from her, she gave a gasping sob, and fell forward upon the hotbricks at his feet.