by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER XVII
Up a little way from the dower there was a cluster of palms,which threw its shade half in the water, half on the land. A bulbulsang from the branches a song of invitation. Ben-Hur stopped beneathto listen. At any other time the notes of the bird would have driventhought away; but the story of the Egyptian was a burden of wonder,and he was a laborer carrying it, and, like other laborers, there wasto him no music in the sweetest music until mind and body were happilyattuned by rest.
The night was quiet. Not a ripple broke upon the shore. The oldstars of the old East were all out, each in its accustomed place;and there was summer everywhere--on land, on lake, in the sky.
Ben-Hur's imagination was heated, his feelings aroused, his willall unsettled.
So the palms, the sky, the air, seemed to him of the far southzone into which Balthasar had been driven by despair for men;the lake, with its motionless surface, was a suggestion of theNilotic mother by which the good man stood praying when theSpirit made its radiant appearance. Had all these accessoriesof the miracle come to Ben-Hur? or had he been transferred tothem? And what if the miracle should be repeated--and to him? Hefeared, yet wished, and even waited for the vision. When at lasthis feverish mood was cooled, permitting him to become himself,he was able to think.
His scheme of life has been explained. In all reflection about itheretofore there had been one hiatus which he had not been able tobridge or fill up--one so broad he could see but vaguely to theother side of it. When, finally, he was graduated a captain aswell as a soldier, to what object should he address his efforts?Revolution he contemplated, of course; but the processes ofrevolution have always been the same, and to lead men intothem there have always been required, first, a cause or presenceto enlist adherents; second, an end, or something as a practicalachievement. As a rule he fights well who has wrongs to redress;but vastly better fights he who, with wrongs as a spur, has alsosteadily before him a glorious result in prospect--a result inwhich he can discern balm for wounds, compensation for valor,remembrance and gratitude in the event of death.
To determine the sufficiency of either the cause or the end, it wasneedful that Ben-Hur should study the adherents to whom he looked whenall was ready for action. Very naturally, they were his countrymen.The wrongs of Israel were to every son of Abraham, and each one wasa cause vastly holy, vastly inspiring.
Ay, the cause was there; but the end--what should it be?
The hours and days he had given this branch of his scheme werepast calculation--all with the same conclusion--a dim, uncertain,general idea of national liberty. Was it sufficient? He could notsay no, for that would have been the death of his hope; he shrankfrom saying yes, because his judgment taught him better. He couldnot assure himself even that Israel was able single-handed tosuccessfully combat Rome. He knew the resources of that greatenemy; he knew her art was superior to her resources. A universalalliance might suffice, but, alas! that was impossible, except--andupon the exception how long and earnestly he had dwelt!--except ahero would come from one of the suffering nations, and by martialsuccesses accomplish a renown to fill the whole earth. What gloryto Judea could she prove the Macedonia of the newAlexander! Alas, again! Under the rabbis valor was possible, but notdiscipline. And then the taunt of Messala in the garden of Herod--"Allyou conquer in the six days, you lose on the seventh."
So it happened he never approached the chasm thinking to surmountit, but he was beaten back; and so incessantly had he failed inthe object that he had about given it over, except as a thing ofchance. The hero might be discovered in his day, or he might not.God only knew. Such his state of mind, there need be no lingeringupon the effect of Malluch's skeleton recital of the story ofBalthasar. He heard it with a bewildering satisfaction--a feelingthat here was the solution of the trouble--here was the requisitehero found at last; and he a son of the Lion tribe, and King ofthe Jews! Behind the hero, lo! the world in arms.
The king implied a kingdom; he was to be a warrior glorious as David,a ruler wise and magnificent as Solomon; the kingdom was to be apower against which Rome was to dash itself to pieces. There wouldbe colossal war, and the agonies of death and birth--then peace,meaning, of course, Judean dominion forever.
Ben-Hur's heart beat hard as for an instant he had a vision ofJerusalem the capital of the world, and Zion, the site of thethrone of the Universal Master.
It seemed to the enthusiast rare fortune that the man who hadseen the king was at the tent to which he was going. He couldsee him there, and hear him, and learn of him what all he knewof the coming change, especially all he knew of the time of itshappening. If it were at hand, the campaign with Maxentius shouldbe abandoned; and he would go and set about organizing and armingthe tribes, that Israel might be ready when the great day of therestoration began to break.
Now, as we have seen, from Balthasar himself Ben-Hur had themarvelous story. Was he satisfied?
There was a shadow upon him deeper than that of the cluster ofpalms--the shadow of a great uncertainty, which--take note,O reader! which pertained more to the kingdom than the king.
"What of this kingdom? And what is it to be?" Ben-Hur asked himselfin thought.
Thus early arose the questions which were to follow the Child tohis end, and survive him on earth--incomprehensible in his day,a dispute in this--an enigma to all who do not or cannot understandthat every man is two in one--a deathless Soul and a mortal Body.
"What is it to be?" he asked.
For us, O reader, the Child himself has answered; but for Ben-Hurthere were only the words of Balthasar, "On the earth, yet not ofit--not for men, but for their souls--a dominion, nevertheless,of unimaginable glory."
What wonder the hapless youth found the phrases but the darkeningof a riddle?
"The hand of man is not in it," he said, despairingly. "Nor has theking of such a kingdom use for men; neither toilers, nor councillors,nor soldiers. The earth must die or be made anew, and for government newprinciples must be discovered--something besides armed hands--somethingin place of Force. But what?"
Again, O reader!
That which we will not see, he could not. The power there is inLove had not yet occurred to any man; much less had one come sayingdirectly that for government and its objects--peace and order--Loveis better and mightier than Force.
In the midst of his reverie a hand was laid upon his shoulder.
"I have a word to say, O son of Arrius," said Ilderim, stopping byhis side--"a word, and then I must return, for the night is going."
"I give you welcome, sheik."
"As to the things you have heard but now," said Ilderim, almost withoutpause, "take in belief all save that relating to the kind of kingdomthe Child will set up when he comes; as to so much keep virgin minduntil you hear Simonides the merchant--a good man here in Antioch,to whom I will make you known. The Egyptian gives you coinage of hisdreams which are too good for the earth; Simonides is wiser; he willring you the sayings of your prophets, giving book and page, so youcannot deny that the Child will be King of the Jews in fact--ay,by the splendor of God! a king as Herod was, only better and farmore magnificent. And then, see you, we will taste the sweetnessof vengeance. I have said. Peace to you!"
"Stay--sheik!"
If Ilderim heard his call, he did not stay.
"Simonides again!" said Ben-Hur, bitterly. "Simonides here,Simonides there; from this one now, then from that! I am liketo be well ridden by my father's servant, who knows at least tohold fast that which is mine; wherefore he is richer, if indeedhe be not wiser, than the Egyptian. By the covenant! it is notto the faithless a man should go to find a faith to keep--andI will not. But, hark! singing--and the voice a woman's--or anangel's! It comes this way."
Down the lake towards the dower came a woman singing. Her voicefloated along the hushed water melodious as a flute, and loudergrowing each instant. Directly the dipping of oars was heard inslow measure; a little later the words were distinguishable--wordsin purest Greek, best fitted of all the tongues of
the day for theexpression of passionate grief.
THE LAMENT. (Egyptian.)
I sigh as I sing for the story land Across the Syrian sea. The odorous winds from the musky sand Were breaths of life to me. They play with the plumes of the whispering palm For me, alas! no more; Nor more does the Nile in the moonlit calm Moan past the Memphian shore.
O Nilus! thou god of my fainting soul! In dreams thou comest to me; And, dreaming, I play with the lotus bowl, And sing old songs to thee; And hear from afar the Memnonian strain, And calls from dear Simbel; And wake to a passion of grief and pain That e'er I said--Farewell!
At the conclusion of the song the singer was past the cluster ofpalms. The last word--farewell--floated past Ben-Hur weighted withall the sweet sorrow of parting. The passing of the boat was as thepassing of a deeper shadow into the deeper night.
Ben-Hur drew a long breath hardly distinguishable from a sigh.
"I know her by the song--the daughter of Balthasar. How beautifulit was! And how beautiful is she!"
He recalled her large eyes curtained slightly by the droopinglids, the cheeks oval and rosy rich, the lips full and deepwith dimpling in the corners, and all the grace of the talllithe figure.
"How beautiful she is!" he repeated.
And his heart made answer by a quickening of its movement.
Then, almost the same instant, another face, younger and quiteas beautiful--more childlike and tender, if not so passionate--appearedas if held up to him out of the lake.
"Esther!" he said, smiling. "As I wished, a star has been sentto me."
He turned, and passed slowly back to the tent.
His life had been crowded with griefs and with vengefulpreparations--too much crowded for love. Was this the beginningof a happy change?
And if the influence went with him into the tent, whose was it?Esther had given him a cup. So had the Egyptian. And both hadcome to him at the same time under the palms.
Which?
BOOK FIFTH
"Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in the dust." SHIRLEY.
"And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law, In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw." WORDSWORTH.
