Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER VI

  The good man, like the bad, must die; but, remembering the lessonof our faith, we say of him and the event, "No matter, he willopen his eyes in heaven." Nearest this in life is the wakingfrom healthful sleep to a quick consciousness of happy sightsand sounds.

  When Judah awoke, the sun was up over the mountains; the pigeonswere abroad in flocks, filling the air with the gleams of theirwhite wings; and off southeast he beheld the Temple, an apparitionof gold in the blue of the sky. These, however, were familiarobjects, and they received but a glance; upon the edge of thedivan, close by him, a girl scarcely fifteen sat singing tothe accompaniment of a nebel, which she rested upon her knee,and touched gracefully. To her he turned listening; and thiswas what she sang:

  THE SONG.

  "Wake not, but hear me, love! Adrift, adrift on slumber's sea, Thy spirit call to list to me. Wake not, but hear me, love! A gift from Sleep, the restful king, All happy, happy dreams I bring.

  "Wake not, but hear me, love! Of all the world of dreams 'tis thine This once to choose the most divine. So choose, and sleep, my love! But ne'er again in choice be free, Unless, unless--thou dream'st of me."

  She put the instrument down, and, resting her hands in her lap,waited for him to speak. And as it has become necessary to tellsomewhat of her, we will avail ourselves of the chance, and addsuch particulars of the family into whose privacy we are broughtas the reader may wish to know.

  The favors of Herod had left surviving him many persons of vastestate. Where this fortune was joined to undoubted lineal descentfrom some famous son of one of the tribes, especially Judah, the happyindividual was accounted a Prince of Jerusalem--a distinction whichsufficed to bring him the homage of his less favored countrymen,and the respect, if nothing more, of the Gentiles with whom businessand social circumstance brought him into dealing. Of this class nonehad won in private or public life a higher regard than the fatherof the lad whom we have been following. With a remembrance of hisnationality which never failed him, he had yet been true to theking, and served him faithfully at home and abroad. Some officeshad taken him to Rome, where his conduct attracted the notice ofAugustus, who strove without reserve to engage his friendship.In his house, accordingly, were many presents, such as hadgratified the vanity of kings--purple togas, ivory chairs,golden pateroe--chiefly valuable on account of the imperialhand which had honorably conferred them. Such a man could notfail to be rich; yet his wealth was not altogether the largessof royal patrons. He had welcomed the law that bound him to somepursuit; and, instead of one, he entered into many. Of the herdsmenwatching flocks on the plains and hill-sides, far as old Lebanon,numbers reported to him as their employer; in the cities by the sea,and in those inland, he founded houses of traffic; his ships broughthim silver from Spain, whose mines were then the richest known;while his caravans came twice a year from the East, laden withsilks and spices. In faith he was a Hebrew, observant of the lawand every essential rite; his place in the synagogue and Templeknew him well; he was thoroughly learned in the Scriptures;he delighted in the society of the college-masters, and carriedhis reverence for Hillel almost to the point of worship. Yet hewas in no sense a Separatist; his hospitality took in strangersfrom every land; the carping Pharisees even accused him of havingmore than once entertained Samaritans at his table. Had he been aGentile, and lived, the world might have heard of him as the rival ofHerodes Atticus: as it was, he perished at sea some ten years beforethis second period of our story, in the prime of life, and lamentedeverywhere in Judea. We are already acquainted with two members ofhis family--his widow and son; the only other was a daughter--shewhom we have seen singing to her brother.

  Tirzah was her name, and as the two looked at each other, theirresemblance was plain. Her features had the regularity of his, andwere of the same Jewish type; they had also the charm of childishinnocency of expression. Home-life and its trustful love permittedthe negligent attire in which she appeared. A chemise buttoned uponthe right shoulder, and passing loosely over the breast and back andunder the left arm, but half concealed her person above the waist,while it left the arms entirely nude. A girdle caught the folds ofthe garment, marking the commencement of the skirt. The coiffurewas very simple and becoming--a silken cap, Tyrian-dyed; and overthat a striped scarf of the same material, beautifully embroidered,and wound about in thin folds so as to show the shape of the headwithout enlarging it; the whole finished by a tassel droppingfrom the crown point of the cap. She had rings, ear and finger;anklets and bracelets, all of gold; and around her neck there wasa collar of gold, curiously garnished with a network of delicatechains, to which were pendants of pearl. The edges of her eyelidswere painted, and the tips of her fingers stained. Her hair fellin two long plaits down her back. A curled lock rested upon eachcheek in front of the ear. Altogether it would have been impossibleto deny her grace, refinement, and beauty.

  "Very pretty, my Tirzah, very pretty!" he said, with animation.

  "The song?" she asked.

  "Yes--and the singer, too. It has the conceit of a Greek. Where didyou get it?"

  "You remember the Greek who sang in the theatre last month? Theysaid he used to be a singer at the court for Herod and his sisterSalome. He came out just after an exhibition of wrestlers, when thehouse was full of noise. At his first note everything became so quietthat I heard every word. I got the song from him."

  "But he sang in Greek."

  "And I in Hebrew."

  "Ah, yes. I am proud of my little sister. Have you another asgood?"

  "Very many. But let them go now. Amrah sent me to tell you she willbring you your breakfast, and that you need not come down. She shouldbe here by this time. She thinks you sick--that a dreadful accidenthappened you yesterday. What was it? Tell me, and I will help Amrahdoctor you. She knows the cures of the Egyptians, who were alwaysa stupid set; but I have a great many recipes of the Arabs who--"

  "Are even more stupid than the Egyptians," he said, shaking hishead.

  "Do you think so? Very well, then," she replied, almost withoutpause, and putting her hands to her left ear. "We will havenothing to do with any of them. I have here what is much surerand better--the amulet which was given to some of our people--Icannot tell when, it was so far back--by a Persian magician. See,the inscription is almost worn out."

  She offered him the earring, which he took, looked at, and handedback, laughing.

  "If I were dying, Tirzah, I could not use the charm. It is a relicof idolatry, forbidden every believing son and daughter of Abraham.Take it, but do not wear it any more."

  "Forbidden! Not so," she said. "Our father's mother wore it I donot know how many Sabbaths in her life. It has cured I do not knowhow many people--more than three anyhow. It is approved--look,here is the mark of the rabbis."

  "I have no faith in amulets."

  She raised her eyes to his in astonishment.

  "What would Amrah say?"

  "Amrah's father and mother tended sakiyeh for a garden on the Nile."

  "But Gamaliel!"

  "He says they are godless inventions of unbelievers and Shechemites."

  Tirzah looked at the ring doubtfully.

  "What shall I do with it?"

  "Wear it, my little sister. It becomes you--it helps make youbeautiful, though I think you that without help."

  Satisfied, she returned the amulet to her ear just as Amrah enteredthe summer chamber, bearing a platter, with wash-bowl, water,and napkins.

  Not being a Pharisee, the ablution was short and simple withJudah. The servant then went out, leaving Tirzah to dress hishair. When a lock was disposed to her satisfaction, she wouldunloose the small metallic mirror which, as was the fashionamong her fair countrywomen, she wore at her girdle, and gaveit to him, that he might see the triumph, and how handsome itmade him. Meanwhile they kept up their conversation.

  "What do you think, Tirzah?--I am going away."

  She dropped her hands with amazement.

  "Going awa
y! When? Where? For what?"

  He laughed.

  "Three questions, all in a breath! What a body you are!" Nextinstant he became serious. "You know the law requires me to followsome occupation. Our good father set me an example. Even you woulddespise me if I spent in idleness the results of his industry andknowledge. I am going to Rome."

  "Oh, I will go with you."

  "You must stay with mother. If both of us leave her she will die."

  The brightness faded from her face.

  "Ah, yes, yes! But--must you go? Here in Jerusalem you can learnall that is needed to be a merchant--if that is what you arethinking of."

  "But that is not what I am thinking of. The law does not requirethe son to be what the father was."

  "What else can you be?"

  "A soldier," he replied, with a certain pride of voice.

  Tears came into her eyes.

  "You will be killed."

  "If God's will, be it so. But, Tirzah, the soldiers are not allkilled."

  She threw her arms around his neck, as if to hold him back.

  "We are so happy! Stay at home, my brother."

  "Home cannot always be what it is. You yourself will be going awaybefore long."

  "Never!"

  He smiled at her earnestness.

  "A prince of Judah, or some other of one of the tribes, will comesoon and claim my Tirzah, and ride away with her, to be the lightof another house. What will then become of me?"

  She answered with sobs.

  "War is a trade," he continued, more soberly. "To learn it thoroughly,one must go to school, and there is no school like a Roman camp."

  "You would not fight for Rome?" she asked, holding her breath.

  "And you--even you hate her. The whole world hates her. In that,O Tirzah, find the reason of the answer I give you-- Yes, I willfight for her, if, in return, she will teach me how one day tofight against her."

  "When will you go?"

  Amrah's steps were then heard returning.

  "Hist!" he said. "Do not let her know of what I am thinking."

  The faithful slave came in with breakfast, and placed the waiterholding it upon a stool before them; then, with white napkins uponher arm, she remained to serve them. They dipped their fingersin a bowl of water, and were rinsing them, when a noise arrestedtheir attention. They listened, and distinguished martial musicin the street on the north side of the house.

  "Soldiers from the Praetorium! I must see them," he cried,springing from the divan, and running out.

  In a moment more he was leaning over the parapet of tiles whichguarded the roof at the extreme northeast corner, so absorbedthat he did not notice Tirzah by his side, resting one hand uponhis shoulder.

  Their position--the roof being the highest one in thelocality--commanded the house-tops eastward as far as the huge irregularTower of Antonia, which has been already mentioned as a citadel forthe garrison and military headquarters for the governor. The street,not more than ten feet wide, was spanned here and there by bridges,open and covered, which, like the roofs along the way, were beginningto be occupied by men, women, and children, called out by the music.The word is used, though it is hardly fitting; what the people heardwhen they came forth was rather an uproar of trumpets and the shrillerlitui so delightful to the soldiers.

  The array after a while came into view of the two upon the houseof the Hurs. First, a vanguard of the light-armed--mostly slingersand bowmen--marching with wide intervals between their ranks andfiles; next a body of heavy-armed infantry, bearing large shields,and hastoe longoe, or spears identical with those used in the duelsbefore Ilium; then the musicians; and then an officer riding alone,but followed closely by a guard of cavalry; after them again,a column of infantry also heavy-armed, which, moving in closeorder, crowded the streets from wall to wall, and appeared tobe without end.

  The brawny limbs of the men; the cadenced motion from right to leftof the shields; the sparkle of scales, buckles, and breastplatesand helms, all perfectly burnished; the plumes nodding above thetall crests; the sway of ensigns and iron-shod spears; the bold,confident step, exactly timed and measured; the demeanor, so grave,yet so watchful; the machine-like unity of the whole moving mass--madean impression upon Judah, but as something felt rather than seen.Two objects fixed his attention--the eagle of the legion first--agilded effigy perched on a tall shaft, with wings outspread untilthey met above its head. He knew that, when brought from its chamberin the Tower, it had been received with divine honors.

  The officer riding alone in the midst of the column was the otherattraction. His head was bare; otherwise he was in full armor. At hisleft hip he wore a short sword; in his hand, however, he carrieda truncheon, which looked like a roll of white paper. He sat upona purple cloth instead of a saddle, and that, and a bridle with aforestall of gold and reins of yellow silk broadly fringed at thelower edge, completed the housings of the horse.

  While the man was yet in the distance, Judah observed that hispresence was sufficient to throw the people looking at him intoangry excitement. They would lean over the parapets or stand boldlyout, and shake their fists at him; they followed him with loud cries,and spit at him as he passed under the bridges; the women even flungtheir sandals, sometimes with such good effect as to hit him. When hewas nearer, the yells became distinguishable--"Robber, tyrant, dog ofa Roman! Away with Ishmael! Give us back our Hannas!"

  When quite near, Judah could see that, as was but natural, the mandid not share the indifference so superbly shown by the soldiers;his face was dark and sullen, and the glances he occasionally castat his persecutors were full of menace; the very timid shrank fromthem.

  Now the lad had heard of the custom, borrowed from a habit of thefirst Caesar, by which chief commanders, to indicate their rank,appeared in public with only a laurel vine upon their heads.By that sign he knew this officer--VALERIUS GRATUS, THE NEWPROCURATOR OF JUDEA!

  To say truth now, the Roman under the unprovoked storm had theyoung Jew's sympathy; so that when he reached the corner of thehouse, the latter leaned yet farther over the parapet to see himgo by, and in the act rested a hand upon a tile which had been along time cracked and allowed to go unnoticed. The pressure wasstrong enough to displace the outer piece, which started to fall.A thrill of horror shot through the youth. He reached out to catchthe missile. In appearance the motion was exactly that of onepitching something from him. The effort failed--nay, it served topush the descending fragment farther out over the wall. He shoutedwith all his might. The soldiers of the guard looked up; so did thegreat man, and that moment the missile struck him, and he fell fromhis seat as dead.

  The cohort halted; the guards leaped from their horses, and hastenedto cover the chief with their shields. On the other hand, the peoplewho witnessed the affair, never doubting that the blow had beenpurposely dealt, cheered the lad as he yet stooped in full viewover the parapet, transfixed by what he beheld, and by anticipationof the consequences flashed all too plainly upon him.

  A mischievous spirit flew with incredible speed from roof toroof along the line of march, seizing the people, and urgingthem all alike. They laid hands upon the parapets and tore upthe tiling and the sunburnt mud of which the house-tops were forthe most part made, and with blind fury began to fling them uponthe legionaries halted below. A battle then ensued. Discipline,of course, prevailed. The struggle, the slaughter, the skill ofone side, the desperation of the other, are alike unnecessary toour story. Let us look rather to the wretched author of it all.

  He arose from the parapet, his face very pale.

  "O Tirzah, Tirzah! What will become of us?"

  She had not seen the occurrence below, but was listening to theshouting and watching the mad activity of the people in view onthe houses. Something terrible was going on, she knew; but whatit was, or the cause, or that she or any of those dear to herwere in danger, she did not know.

  "What has happened? What does it all mean?" she asked, in suddenalarm.

  "I have killed the Roman govern
or. The tile fell upon him."

  An unseen hand appeared to sprinkle her face with the dust ofashes--it grew white so instantly. She put her arm around him,and looked wistfully, but without a word, into his eyes.His fears had passed to her, and the sight of them gavehim strength.

  "I did not do it purposely, Tirzah--it was an accident," he said,more calmly.

  "What will they do?" she asked.

  He looked off over the tumult momentarily deepening in the streetand on the roofs, and thought of the sullen countenance of Gratus.If he were not dead, where would his vengeance stop? And if hewere dead, to what height of fury would not the violence of thepeople lash the legionaries? To evade an answer, he peered overthe parapet again, just as the guard were assisting the Roman toremount his horse.

  "He lives, he lives, Tirzah! Blessed be the Lord God of our fathers!"

  With that outcry, and a brightened countenance, he drew back andreplied to her question.

  "Be not afraid, Tirzah. I will explain how it happened, and theywill remember our father and his services, and not hurt us."

  He was leading her to the summer-house, when the roof jarredunder their feet, and a crash of strong timbers being burst away,followed by a cry of surprise and agony, arose apparently from thecourt-yard below. He stopped and listened. The cry was repeated;then came a rush of many feet, and voices lifted in rage blentwith voices in prayer; and then the screams of women in mortalterror. The soldiers had beaten in the north gate, and were inpossession of the house. The terrible sense of being hunted smotehim. His first impulse was to fly; but where? Nothing but wingswould serve him. Tirzah, her eyes wild with fear, caught his arm.

  "O Judah, what does it mean?"

  The servants were being butchered--and his mother! Was not oneof the voices he heard hers? With all the will left him, he said,"Stay here, and wait for me, Tirzah. I will go down and see whatis the matter, and come back to you."

  His voice was not steady as he wished. She clung closer to him.

  Clearer, shriller, no longer a fancy, his mother's cry arose.He hesitated no longer.

  "Come, then, let us go."

  The terrace or gallery at the foot of the steps was crowded withsoldiers. Other soldiers with drawn swords ran in and out of thechambers. At one place a number of women on their knees clung to eachother or prayed for mercy. Apart from them, one with torn garments,and long hair streaming over her face, struggled to tear loose froma man all whose strength was tasked to keep his hold. Her crieswere shrillest of all; cutting through the clamor, they had risendistinguishably to the roof. To her Judah sprang--his steps werelong and swift, almost a winged flight--"Mother, mother!" heshouted. She stretched her hands towards him; but when almosttouching them he was seized and forced aside. Then he heard someone say, speaking loudly,

  "That is he!"

  Judah looked, and saw--Messala.

  "What, the assassin--that?" said a tall man, in legionary armorof beautiful finish. "Why, he is but a boy."

  "Gods!" replied Messala, not forgetting his drawl. "A new philosophy!What would Seneca say to the proposition that a man must be old beforehe can hate enough to kill? You have him; and that is his mother;yonder his sister. You have the whole family."

  For love of them, Judah forgot his quarrel.

  "Help them, O my Messala! Remember our childhood and help them.I--Judah--pray you."

  Messala affected not to hear.

  "I cannot be of further use to you," he said to the officer."There is richer entertainment in the street. Down Eros, up Mars!"

  With the last words he disappeared. Judah understood him, and,in the bitterness of his soul, prayed to Heaven.

  "In the hour of thy vengeance, O Lord," he said, "be mine the handto put it upon him!"

  By great exertion, he drew nearer the officer.

  "O sir, the woman you hear is my mother. Spare her, spare mysister yonder. God is just, he will give you mercy for mercy."

  The man appeared to be moved.

  "To the Tower with the women!" he shouted, "but do them no harm.I will demand them of you." Then to those holding Judah, he said,"Get cords, and bind his hands, and take him to the street.His punishment is reserved."

  The mother was carried away. The little Tirzah, in her home attire,stupefied with fear, went passively with her keepers. Judah gaveeach of them a last look, and covered his face with his hands,as if to possess himself of the scene fadelessly. He may haveshed tears, though no one saw them.

  There took place in him then what may be justly called the wonderof life. The thoughtful reader of these pages has ere this discernedenough to know that the young Jew in disposition was gentle evento womanliness--a result that seldom fails the habit of loving andbeing loved. The circumstances through which he had come had madeno call upon the harsher elements of his nature, if such he had.At times he had felt the stir and impulses of ambition, but theyhad been like the formless dreams of a child walking by the seaand gazing at the coming and going of stately ships. But now, if wecan imagine an idol, sensible of the worship it was accustomed to,dashed suddenly from its altar, and lying amidst the wreck of itslittle world of love, an idea may be had of what had befallen theyoung Ben-Hur, and of its effect upon his being. Yet there was nosign, nothing to indicate that he had undergone a change, exceptthat when he raised his head, and held his arms out to be bound,the bend of the Cupid's bow had vanished from his lips. In thatinstant he had put off childhood and become a man.

  A trumpet sounded in the court-yard. With the cessation of thecall, the gallery was cleared of the soldiery; many of whom,as they dared not appear in the ranks with visible plunder intheir hands, flung what they had upon the floor, until it wasstrewn with articles of richest virtu. When Judah descended,the formation was complete, and the officer waiting to see hislast order executed.

  The mother, daughter, and entire household were led out of thenorth gate, the ruins of which choked the passageway. The criesof the domestics, some of whom had been born in the house, were mostpitiable. When, finally, the horses and all the dumb tenantry of theplace were driven past him, Judah began to comprehend the scope ofthe procurator's vengeance. The very structure was devoted. Far asthe order was possible of execution, nothing living was to be leftwithin its walls. If in Judea there were others desperate enough tothink of assassinating a Roman governor, the story of what befellthe princely family of Hur would be a warning to them, while theruin of the habitation would keep the story alive.

  The officer waited outside while a detail of men temporarilyrestored the gate.

  In the street the fighting had almost ceased. Upon the houseshere and there clouds of dust told where the struggle was yetprolonged. The cohort was, for the most part, standing at rest,its splendor, like its ranks, in nowise diminished. Borne pastthe point of care for himself, Judah had heart for nothing inview but the prisoners, among whom he looked in vain for hismother and Tirzah.

  Suddenly, from the earth where she had been lying, a woman aroseand started swiftly back to the gate. Some of the guards reachedout to seize her, and a great shout followed their failure. She ranto Judah, and, dropping down, clasped his knees, the coarse blackhair powdered with dust veiling her eyes.

  "O Amrah, good Amrah," he said to her, "God help you; I cannot."

  She could not speak.

  He bent down, and whispered, "Live, Amrah, for Tirzah and my mother.They will come back, and--"

  A soldier drew her away; whereupon she sprang up and rushed throughthe gateway and passage into the vacant court-yard.

  "Let her go," the officer shouted. "We will seal the house, and shewill starve."

  The men resumed their work, and, when it was finished there,passed round to the west side. That gate was also secured,after which the palace of the Hurs was lost to use.

  The cohort at length marched back to the Tower, where the procuratorstayed to recover from his hurts and dispose of his prisoners. On thetenth day following, he visited the Market-place.