Ben-Hur; a tale of the Christ

by Lew Wallace

  CHAPTER III

  Next day early, to the neglect of the city, Ben-Hur sought thehouse of Simonides. Through an embattled gateway he passed to acontinuity of wharves; thence up the river midst a busy press,to the Seleucian Bridge, under which he paused to take in thescene.

  There, directly under the bridge, was the merchant's house, a massof gray stone, unhewn, referable to no style, looking, as thevoyager had described it, like a buttress of the wall againstwhich it leaned. Two immense doors in front communicated withthe wharf. Some holes near the top, heavily barred, served aswindows. Weeds waved from the crevices, and in places black mosssplotched the otherwise bald stones.

  The doors were open. Through one of them business went in;through the other it came out; and there was hurry, hurry inall its movements.

  On the wharf there were piles of goods in every kind of package,and groups of slaves, stripped to the waist, going about in theabandon of labor.

  Below the bridge lay a fleet of galleys, some loading, othersunloading. A yellow flag blew out from each masthead. From fleetand wharf, and from ship to ship, the bondmen of traffic passedin clamorous counter-currents.

  Above the bridge, across the river, a wall rose from the water'sedge, over which towered the fanciful cornices and turrets of animperial palace, covering every foot of the island spoken of in theHebrew's description. But, with all its suggestions, Ben-Hur scarcelynoticed it. Now, at last, he thought to hear of his people--this,certainly, if Simonides had indeed been his father's slave. Butwould the man acknowledge the relation? That would be to give uphis riches and the sovereignty of trade so royally witnessed onthe wharf and river. And what was of still greater consequenceto the merchant, it would be to forego his career in the midstof amazing success, and yield himself voluntarily once more aslave. Simple thought of the demand seemed a monstrous audacity.Stripped of diplomatic address, it was to say, You are my slave;give me all you have, and--yourself.

  Yet Ben-Hur derived strength for the interview from faith in hisrights and the hope uppermost in his heart. If the story to which hewas yielding were true, Simonides belonged to him, with all he had.For the wealth, be it said in justice, he cared nothing. When hestarted to the door determined in mind, it was with a promise tohimself--"Let him tell me of mother and Tirzah, and I will givehim his freedom without account."

  He passed boldly into the house.

  The interior was that of a vast depot where, in ordered spaces,and under careful arrangement, goods of every kind were heaped andpent. Though the light was murky and the air stifling, men movedabout briskly; and in places he saw workmen with saws and hammersmaking packages for shipments. Down a path between the piles hewalked slowly, wondering if the man of whose genius there werehere such abounding proofs could have been his father's slave?If so, to what class had he belonged? If a Jew, was he the sonof a servant? Or was he a debtor or a debtor's son? Or had hebeen sentenced and sold for theft? These thoughts, as they passed,in nowise disturbed the growing respect for the merchant of whichhe was each instant more and more conscious. A peculiarity of ouradmiration for another is that it is always looking for circumstancesto justify itself.

  At length a man approached and spoke to him.

  "What would you have?"

  "I would see Simonides, the merchant."

  "Will you come this way?"

  By a number of paths left in the stowage, they finally came toa flight of steps; ascending which, he found himself on theroof of the depot, and in front of a structure which cannotbe better described than as a lesser stone house built uponanother, invisible from the landing below, and out west of thebridge under the open sky. The roof, hemmed in by a low wall,seemed like a terrace, which, to his astonishment, was brilliantwith flowers; in the rich surrounding, the house sat squat, a plainsquare block, unbroken except by a doorway in front. A dustless pathled to the door, through a bordering of shrubs of Persian rosein perfect bloom. Breathing a sweet attar-perfume, he followedthe guide.

  At the end of a darkened passage within, they stopped before acurtain half parted. The man called out,

  "A stranger to see the master."

  A clear voice replied, "In God's name, let him enter."

  A Roman might have called the apartment into which the visitor wasushered his atrium. The walls were paneled; each panel was compartedlike a modern office-desk, and each compartment crowded with labelledfolios all filemot with age and use. Between the panels, and above andbelow them, were borders of wood once white, now tinted like cream,and carved with marvellous intricacy of design. Above a cornice ofgilded balls, the ceiling rose in pavilion style until it brokeinto a shallow dome set with hundreds of panes of violet mica,permitting a flood of light deliciously reposeful. The floor wascarpeted with gray rugs so thick that an invading foot fell halfburied and soundless.

  In the midlight of the room were two persons--a man resting in achair high-backed, broad-armed, and lined with pliant cushions;and at his left, leaning against the back of the chair, a girlwell forward into womanhood. At sight of them Ben-Hur felt theblood redden his forehead; bowing, as much to recover himself asin respect, he lost the lifting of the hands, and the shiver andshrink with which the sitter caught sight of him--an emotion asswift to go as it had been to come. When he raised his eyes thetwo were in the same position, except the girl's hand had fallenand was resting lightly upon the elder's shoulder; both of themwere regarding him fixedly.

  "If you are Simonides, the merchant, and a Jew"--Ben-Hur stoppedan instant--"then the peace of the God of our father Abraham uponyou and--yours."

  The last word was addressed to the girl.

  "I am the Simonides of whom you speak, by birthright a Jew," theman made answer, in a voice singularly clear. "I am Simonides,and a Jew; and I return you your salutation, with prayer to knowwho calls upon me."

  Ben-Hur looked as he listened, and where the figure of theman should have been in healthful roundness, there was only aformless heap sunk in the depths of the cushions, and covered bya quilted robe of sombre silk. Over the heap shone a head royallyproportioned--the ideal head of a statesman and conqueror--a headbroad of base and domelike in front, such as Angelo would havemodelled for Caesar. White hair dropped in thin locks over thewhite brows, deepening the blackness of the eyes shining throughthem like sullen lights. The face was bloodless, and much puffedwith folds, especially under the chin. In other words, the headand face were those of a man who might move the world more readilythan the world could move him--a man to be twice twelve timestortured into the shapeless cripple he was, without a groan,much less a confession; a man to yield his life, but never apurpose or a point; a man born in armor, and assailable onlythrough his loves. To him Ben-Hur stretched his hands, open andpalm up, as he would offer peace at the same time he asked it.

  "I am Judah, son of Ithamar, late head of the House of Hur, and aprince of Jerusalem."

  The merchant's right hand lay outside the robe--a long, thin hand,articulate to deformity with suffering. It closed tightly;otherwise there was not the slightest expression of feelingof any kind on his part; nothing to warrant an inference ofsurprise or interest; nothing but this calm answer,

  "The princes of Jerusalem, of the pure blood, are always welcomein my house; you are welcome. Give the young man a seat, Esther."

  The girl took an ottoman near by, and carried it to Ben-Hur. As shearose from placing the seat, their eyes met.

  "The peace of our Lord with you," she said, modestly. "Be seatedand at rest."

  When she resumed her place by the chair, she had not divined hispurpose. The powers of woman go not so far: if the matter is offiner feeling, such as pity, mercy, sympathy, that she detects;and therein is a difference between her and man which will endureas long as she remains, by nature, alive to such feelings. She wassimply sure he brought some wound of life for healing.

  Ben-Hur did not take the offered seat, but said, deferentially,"I pray the good master Simonides that he will not hold mean intruder. Coming up the river yest
erday, I heard he knewmy father."

  "I knew the Prince Hur. We were associated in some enterpriseslawful to merchants who find profit in lands beyond the sea andthe desert. But sit, I pray you--and, Esther, some wine for theyoung man. Nehemiah speaks of a son of Hur who once ruled thehalf part of Jerusalem; an old house; very old, by the faith!In the days of Moses and Joshua even some of them found favorin the sight of the Lord, and divided honors with those princesamong men. It can hardly be that their descendant, lineally cometo us, will refuse a cup of wine-fat of the genuine vine of Sorek,grown on the south hill-sides of Hebron."

  By the time of the conclusion of this speech, Esther was beforeBen-Hur with a silver cup filled from a vase upon a table a littleremoved from the chair. She offered the drink with downcast face.He touched her hand gently to put it away. Again their eyes met;whereat he noticed that she was small, not nearly to his shoulderin height; but very graceful, and fair and sweet of face, with eyesblack and inexpressibly soft. She is kind and pretty, he thought,and looks as Tirzah would were she living. Poor Tirzah! Then hesaid aloud,

  "No, thy father--if he is thy father?"--he paused.

  "I am Esther, the daughter of Simonides," she said, with dignity.

  "Then, fair Esther, thy father, when he has heard my further speech,will not think worse of me if yet I am slow to take his wine offamous extract; nor less I hope not to lose grace in thy sight.Stand thou here with me a moment!"

  Both of them, as in common cause, turned to the merchant."Simonides!" he said, firmly, "my father, at his death, had atrusted servant of thy name, and it has been told me that thouart the man!"

  There was a sudden start of the wrenched limbs under the robe,and the thin hand clenched.

  "Esther, Esther!" the man called, sternly; "here, not there,as thou art thy mother's child and mine--here, not there, I say!"

  The girl looked once from father to visitor; then she replaced thecup upon the table, and went dutifully to the chair. Her countenancesufficiently expressed her wonder and alarm.

  Simonides lifted his left hand, and gave it into hers, lying lovinglyupon his shoulder, and said, dispassionately, "I have grown old indealing with men--old before my time. If he who told thee that whereofthou speakest was a friend acquainted with my history, and spoke ofit not harshly, he must have persuaded thee that I could not be elsethan a man distrustful of my kind. The God of Israel help him who,at the end of life, is constrained to acknowledge so much! My lovesare few, but they are. One of them is a soul which"--he carried thehand holding his to his lips, in manner unmistakable--"a soul whichto this time has been unselfishly mine, and such sweet comfort that,were it taken from me, I would die."

  Esther's head drooped until her cheek touched his.

  "The other love is but a memory; of which I will say further that,like a benison of the Lord, it hath a compass to contain a wholefamily, if only"--his voice lowered and trembled--"if only I knewwhere they were."

  Ben-Hur's face suffused, and, advancing a step, he cried, impulsively,"My mother and sister! Oh, it is of them you speak!"

  Esther, as if spoken to, raised her head; but Simonides returnedto his calm, and answered, coldly, "Hear me to the end. Because I amthat I am, and because of the loves of which I have spoken, before Imake return to thy demand touching my relations to the Prince Hur,and as something which of right should come first, do thou show meproofs of who thou art. Is thy witness in writing? Or cometh it inperson?"

  The demand was plain, and the right of it indisputable. Ben-Hurblushed, clasped his hands, stammered, and turned away at loss.Simonides pressed him.

  "The proofs, the proofs, I say! Set them before me--lay them inmy hands!"

  Yet Ben-Hur had no answer. He had not anticipated the requirement;and, now that it was made, to him as never before came the awfulfact that the three years in the galley had carried away all theproofs of his identity; mother and sister gone, he did not live inthe knowledge of any human being. Many there were acquainted withhim, but that was all. Had Quintus Arrius been present, what couldhe have said more than where he found him, and that he believed thepretender to be the son of Hur? But, as will presently appear in full,the brave Roman sailor was dead. Judah had felt the loneliness before;to the core of life the sense struck him now. He stood, hands clasped,face averted, in stupefaction. Simonides respected his suffering,and waited in silence.

  "Master Simonides," he said, at length, "I can only tell my story;and I will not that unless you stay judgment so long, and withgood-will deign to hear me."

  "Speak," said Simonides, now, indeed, master of the situation--"speak,and I will listen the more willingly that I have not denied you to bethe very person you claim yourself."

  Ben-Hur proceeded then, and told his life hurriedly, yet with thefeeling which is the source of all eloquence; but as we are familiarwith it down to his landing at Misenum, in company with Arrius,returned victorious from the AEgean, at that point we will takeup the words.

  "My benefactor was loved and trusted by the emperor, who heapedhim with honorable rewards. The merchants of the East contributedmagnificent presents, and he became doubly rich among the richof Rome. May a Jew forget his religion? or his birthplace, if itwere the Holy Land of our fathers? The good man adopted me hisson by formal rites of law; and I strove to make him just return:no child was ever more dutiful to father than I to him. He wouldhave had me a scholar; in art, philosophy, rhetoric, oratory,he would have furnished me the most famous teacher. I declinedhis insistence, because I was a Jew, and could not forget theLord God, or the glory of the prophets, or the city set on thehills by David and Solomon. Oh, ask you why I accepted any ofthe benefactions of the Roman? I loved him; next place, I thoughtwith his help, array influences which would enable me one day tounseal the mystery close-locking the fate of my mother and sister;and to these there was yet another motive of which I shall not speakexcept to say it controlled me so far that I devoted myself to arms,and the acquisition of everything deemed essential to thoroughknowledge of the art of war. In the palaestrae and circuses ofthe city I toiled, and in the camps no less; and in all of themI have a name, but not that of my fathers. The crowns I won--andon the walls of the villa by Misenum there are many of them--allcame to me as the son of Arrius, the duumvir. In that relationonly am I known among Romans.... In steadfast pursuit of mysecret aim, I left Rome for Antioch, intending to accompanythe Consul Maxentius in the campaign he is organizing againstthe Parthians. Master of personal skill in all arms, I seeknow the higher knowledge pertaining to the conduct of bodies ofmen in the field. The consul has admitted me one of his militaryfamily. But yesterday, as our ship entered the Orontes, two otherships sailed in with us flying yellow flags. A fellow-passengerand countryman from Cyprus explained that the vessels belongedto Simonides, the master-merchant of Antioch; he told us, also,who the merchant was; his marvellous success in commerce; of hisfleets and caravans, and their coming and going; and, not knowingI had interest in the theme beyond my associate listeners, he saidSimonides was a Jew, once the servant of the Prince Hur; nor did heconceal the cruelties of Gratus, or the purpose of their infliction."

  At this allusion Simonides bowed his head, and, as if to help himconceal his feelings and her own deep sympathy, the daughter hidher face on his neck. Directly he raised his eyes, and said, in aclear voice, "I am listening."

  "O good Simonides!" Ben-Hur then said, advancing a step, his wholesoul seeking expression, "I see thou art not convinced, and thatyet I stand in the shadow of thy distrust."

  The merchant held his features fixed as marble, and his tongueas still.

  "And not less clearly, I see the difficulties of my position,"Ben-Hur continued. "All my Roman connection I can prove; I haveonly to call upon the consul, now the guest of the governor ofthe city; but I cannot prove the particulars of thy demand uponme. I cannot prove I am my father's son. They who could serve mein that--alas! they are dead or lost."

  He covered his face with his hands; whereupon Esther arose, and,taking the r
ejected cup to him, said, "The wine is of the countrywe all so love. Drink, I pray thee!"

  The voice was sweet as that of Rebekah offering drink at the wellnear Nahor the city; he saw there were tears in her eyes, and hedrank, saying, "Daughter of Simonides, thy heart is full of goodness;and merciful art thou to let the stranger share it with thy father.Be thou blessed of our God! I thank thee."

  Then he addressed himself to the merchant again:

  "As I have no proof that I am my father's son, I will withdrawthat I demanded of thee, O Simonides, and go hence to trouble youno more; only let me say I did not seek thy return to servitude noraccount of thy fortune; in any event, I would have said, as now Isay, that all which is product of thy labor and genius is thine;keep it in welcome. I have no need of any part thereof. When thegood Quintus, my second father, sailed on the voyage which was hislast, he left me his heir, princely rich. If, therefore, thou costthink of me again, be it with remembrance of this question, which,as I do swear by the prophets and Jehovah, thy God and mine, was thechief purpose of my coming here: What cost thou know--what canst thoutell me--of my mother and Tirzah, my sister--she who should be inbeauty and grace even as this one, thy sweetness of life, if notthy very life? Oh! what canst thou tell me of them?"

  The tears ran down Esther's cheeks; but the man was wilful: in aclear voice, he replied,

  "I have said I knew the Prince Ben-Hur. I remember hearing of themisfortune which overtook his family. I remember the bitternesswith which I heard it. He who wrought such misery to the widow ofmy friend is the same who, in the same spirit, hath since wroughtupon me. I will go further, and say to you, I have made diligentquest concerning the family, but--I have nothing to tell you ofthem. They are lost."

  Ben-Hur uttered a great groan.

  "Then--then it is another hope broken!" he said, struggling withhis feelings. "I am used to disappointments. I pray you pardonmy intrusion; and if I have occasioned you annoyance, forgive itbecause of my sorrow. I have nothing now to live for but vengeance.Farewell."

  At the curtain he turned, and said, simply, "I thank you both."

  "Peace go with you," the merchant said.

  Esther could not speak for sobbing.

  And so he departed.