Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER III

  From the entrance to the Holy City, equivalent to what is nowcalled St. Stephen's Gate, a street extended westwardly, on aline parallel with the northern front of the Tower of Antonia,though a square from that famous castle. Keeping the course asfar as the Tyropoeon Valley, which it followed a little way south,it turned and again ran west until a short distance beyond whattradition tells us was the Judgment Gate, from whence it brokeabruptly south. The traveller or the student familiar with thesacred locality will recognize the thoroughfare described as partof the Via Dolorosa--with Christians of more interest, though ofa melancholy kind, than any street in the world. As the purposein view does not at present require dealing with the whole street,it will be sufficient to point out a house standing in the angle lastmentioned as marking the change of direction south, and which, as animportant centre of interest, needs somewhat particular description.

  The building fronted north and west, probably four hundred feeteach way, and, like most pretentious Eastern structures, was twostories in height, and perfectly quadrangular. The street on thewest side was about twelve feet wide, that on the north not morethan ten; so that one walking close to the walls, and looking upat them, would have been struck by the rude, unfinished, uninviting,but strong and imposing, appearance they presented; for they were ofstone laid in large blocks, undressed--on the outer side, in fact,just as they were taken from the quarry. A critic of this age wouldhave pronounced the house fortelesque in style, except for thewindows, with which it was unusually garnished, and the ornatefinish of the doorways or gates. The western windows were fourin number, the northern only two, all set on the line of thesecond story in such manner as to overhang the thoroughfares below.The gates were the only breaks of wall externally visible in thefirst story; and, besides being so thickly riven with iron boltsas to suggest resistance to battering-rams, they were protectedby cornices of marble, handsomely executed, and of such boldprojection as to assure visitors well informed of the peoplethat the rich man who resided there was a Sadducee in politicsand creed.

  Not long after the young Jew parted from the Roman at the palaceup on the Market-place, he stopped before the western gate of thehouse described, and knocked. The wicket (a door hung in one ofthe valves of the gate) was opened to admit him. He stepped inhastily, and failed to acknowledge the low salaam of the porter.

  To get an idea of the interior arrangement of the structure,as well as to see what more befell the youth, we will follow him.

  The passage into which he was admitted appeared not unlike a narrowtunnel with panelled walls and pitted ceiling. There were benchesof stone on both sides, stained and polished by long use. Twelve orfifteen steps carried him into a court-yard, oblong north and south,and in every quarter, except the east, bounded by what seemed thefronts of two-story houses; of which the lower floor was dividedinto lewens, while the upper was terraced and defended by strongbalustrading. The servants coming and going along the terraces;the noise of millstones grinding; the garments fluttering fromropes stretched from point to point; the chickens and pigeons infull enjoyment of the place; the goats, cows, donkeys, and horsesstabled in the lewens; a massive trough of water, apparently forthe common use, declared this court appurtenant to the domesticmanagement of the owner. Eastwardly there was a division wallbroken by another passage-way in all respects like the first one.

  Clearing the second passage, the young man entered a second court,spacious, square, and set with shrubbery and vines, kept fresh andbeautiful by water from a basin erected near a porch on the northside. The lewens here were high, airy, and shaded by curtainsstriped alternate white and red. The arches of the lewens restedon clustered columns. A flight of steps on the south ascended tothe terraces of the upper story, over which great awnings werestretched as a defence against the sun. Another stairway reachedfrom the terraces to the roof, the edge of which, all around thesquare, was defined by a sculptured cornice, and a parapet ofburned-clay tiling, sexangular and bright red. In this quarter,moreover, there was everywhere observable a scrupulous neatness,which, allowing no dust in the angles, not even a yellow leafupon a shrub, contributed quite as much as anything else to thedelightful general effect; insomuch that a visitor, breathing thesweet air, knew, in advance of introduction, the refinement of thefamily he was about calling upon.

  A few steps within the second court, the lad turned to the right,and, choosing a walk through the shrubbery, part of which was inflower, passed to the stairway, and ascended to the terrace--abroad pavement of white and brown flags closely laid, and muchworn. Making way under the awning to a doorway on the north side,he entered an apartment which the dropping of the screen behindhim returned to darkness. Nevertheless, he proceeded, moving over atiled floor to a divan, upon which he flung himself, face downwards,and lay at rest, his forehead upon his crossed arms.

  About nightfall a woman came to the door and called; he answered,and she went in.

  "Supper is over, and it is night. Is not my son hungry?" she asked.

  "No," he replied.

  "Are you sick?"

  "I am sleepy."

  "Your mother has asked for you."

  "Where is she?"

  "In the summer-house on the roof."

  He stirred himself, and sat up.

  "Very well. Bring me something to eat."

  "What do you want?"

  "What you please, Amrah. I am not sick, but indifferent. Life doesnot seem as pleasant as it did this morning. A new ailment, O myAmrah; and you who know me so well, who never failed me, may thinkof the things now that answer for food and medicine. Bring me whatyou choose."

  Amrah's questions, and the voice in which she put them--low,sympathetic, and solicitous--were significant of an endearedrelation between the two. She laid her hand upon his forehead;then, as satisfied, went out, saying, "I will see."

  After a while she returned, bearing on a wooden platter a bowl ofmilk, some thin cakes of white bread broken, a delicate paste ofbrayed wheat, a bird broiled, and honey and salt. On one end ofthe platter there was a silver goblet full of wine, on the othera brazen hand-lamp lighted.

  The room was then revealed: its walls smoothly plastered; the ceilingbroken by great oaken rafters, brown with rain stains and time; thefloor of small diamond-shaped white and blue tiles, very firm andenduring; a few stools with legs carved in imitation of the legsof lions; a divan raised a little above the floor, trimmed withblue cloth, and partially covered by an immense striped woollenblanket or shawl--in brief, a Hebrew bedroom.

  The same light also gave the woman to view. Drawing a stool tothe divan, she placed the platter upon it, then knelt closeby ready to serve him. Her face was that of a woman of fifty,dark-skinned, dark-eyed, and at the moment softened by a lookof tenderness almost maternal. A white turban covered her head,leaving the lobes of the ear exposed, and in them the sign thatsettled her condition--an orifice bored by a thick awl. She wasa slave, of Egyptian origin, to whom not even the sacred fiftiethyear could have brought freedom; nor would she have accepted it,for the boy she was attending was her life. She had nursed himthrough babyhood, tended him as a child, and could not breakthe service. To her love he could never be a man.

  He spoke but once during the meal.

  "You remember, O my Amrah," he said, "the Messala who used tovisit me here days at a time."

  "I remember him."

  "He went to Rome some years ago, and is now back. I called uponhim to-day."

  A shudder of disgust seized the lad.

  "I knew something had happened," she said, deeply interested."I never liked the Messala. Tell me all."

  But he fell into musing, and to her repeated inquiries only said,"He is much changed, and I shall have nothing more to do with him."

  When Amrah took the platter away, he also went out, and up fromthe terrace to the roof.

  The reader is presumed to know somewhat of the uses of thehouse-top in the East. In the matter of customs, climate is alawgiver everywhere. The Syrian summer
day drives the seeker ofcomfort into the darkened lewen; night, however, calls him forthearly, and the shadows deepening over the mountain-sides seem veilsdimly covering Circean singers; but they are far off, while theroof is close by, and raised above the level of the shimmeringplain enough for the visitation of cool airs, and sufficientlyabove the trees to allure the stars down closer, down at least intobrighter shining. So the roof became a resort--became playground,sleeping-chamber, boudoir, rendezvous for the family, place ofmusic, dance, conversation, reverie, and prayer.

  The motive that prompts the decoration, at whatever cost,of interiors in colder climes suggested to the Oriental theembellishment of his house-top. The parapet ordered by Mosesbecame a potter's triumph; above that, later, arose towers,plain and fantastic; still later, kings and princes crownedtheir roofs with summer-houses of marble and gold. When theBabylonian hung gardens in the air, extravagance could pushthe idea no further.

  The lad whom we are following walked slowly across the house-topto a tower built over the northwest corner of the palace. Had hebeen a stranger, he might have bestowed a glance upon the structureas he drew nigh it, and seen all the dimness permitted--a darkenedmass, low, latticed, pillared, and domed. He entered, passing undera half-raised curtain. The interior was all darkness, except that onfour sides there were arched openings like doorways, through whichthe sky, lighted with stars, was visible. In one of the openings,reclining against a cushion from a divan, he saw the figure of awoman, indistinct even in white floating drapery. At the sound ofhis steps upon the floor, the fan in her hand stopped, glisteningwhere the starlight struck the jewels with which it was sprinkled,and she sat up, and called his name.

  "Judah, my son!"

  "It is I, mother," he answered, quickening his approach.

  Going to her, he knelt, and she put her arms around him, and withkisses pressed him to her bosom.