Belshazzar

Chapter XVI Ramose is Tempted

Now for a while in this story of mine little happened that is worth the telling. Belus and I dwelt together in the palace as we were allowed to do by the decree of the king. Of Myra we saw nothing for it was impossible to come at her. In this business the Prophet Daniel, or Belteshazzar, was as a rock that cannot be moved or pierced. By the help of Belus I saw and talked with him, though not in his own house, showing him how hard was our case, and praying him at least to carry a letter from me to Myra. He listened with a courteous patience, then answered,

"Noble Egyptian, Ramose, hear my counsel. First of all, forget for a while that you are an Egyptian; that your real name is Ramose and not Ptahmes, and most of all, that you have had anything to do with a lady called Myra, who chances to be in my charge as titular Governor of Babylon and a prophet beloved by the king. At present all this is not known, or has been forgotten, and you are thought of only as a stranger suspected in error, and one admitted to the friendship of the king because you are very learned in ancient histories and religions which it pleases him to study. At least they are not known to Belshazzar the prince and the king to be, who believes that the man said to have married the lady Myra before the Pharaoh tried to palm her upon Nabonidus, as a maiden of the royal House, is some noble of Egypt who still dwells in that country. Were it otherwise, I think that you would not live long, Ramose, for Belshazzar has many servants in whose hands are daggers and no longer does he cause his victims to be thrown into the great river unweighted with stones" (here he glanced at Belus who was with me).

"All these things may be so, Prophet," I said. "Yet why should I not see my wife in private, or at the least write to her?"

"Has not the king told you?" he answered sternly. "Then once and for all I will. Because I have passed my word that no man should do so while the king lives, O Ramose, and the word of Belteshazzar, still known as the Governor of Babylon, may not be broken. Well is it for you that this is so, and for the lady Myra also. Twice already has the royal prince, Belshazzar, sent his commands to me under seal, demanding that I should suffer him to capture this lady, by allowing her to walk abroad beyond the shelter of my walls which are sacred to the Babylonians, aye, more sacred than the sanctuaries of their own temples, or at the least that I should give him access to her. Both these commands I defied, thereby earning his added hate and threats of vengeance. Can I then grant to you what I have refused the heir to Babylon? Can I even allow writings to pass between you which, if they were found, would mean the death of both and my dishonour?"

"At least tell me of her, Prophet, for that is not against your vow," I said humbly.

He thought a while; then answered,

"I may say this—she is well and after a fashion happy, who has escaped great danger if only for a while; also for other reasons."

"What other reasons?"

"One of them is that she has learned with certainty of what blood she comes through her mother. It is high, for this mother, as she told you at her death, was truly the daughter of Zedekiah, the last king of Judah, who when he fled from Jerusalem towards Jordan, took her with him, a little maid. He was captured and brought to Riblah with a great number of the people of Israel. Here Nebuchadnezzar in his rage because he had rebelled against him, caused his sons to be slain before his face. Then he blinded him and brought him as a slave to Babylon, where for years he lay a prisoner in the dungeons of yonder temple till at length his misery was ended in death. But the girl was spared for she showed promise of beauty, and was afterwards given to the Prince Merodach. You know the end of that story, Ramose, for you saw her die in blood as her brothers died, and took away her babe and reared it."

"How do you know these things, Prophet?" I asked eagerly.

"In sundry ways, Ramose. When I was young I knew her mother and that she was killed in the battle between Merodach and the Egyptians in which you took part. Also I know the emerald seal she wears, that has cut on it the name of God in ancient Hebrew characters which I can read. It is an old seal and has a long history. I remember it when it hung about the neck of Myra's mother, as it did on that of her mother before her. Moreover the truth of all this matter has been revealed to me. Without doubt this lady Myra is descended from Zedekiah the weak and the accursed and, as I think, is the last of his race left living."

"It seems that I have a wife of high lineage," I said. "Well, I heard as much before from the lips of the dying Mysia, but scarcely believed it who thought that perhaps her mind wandered."

"Aye, Ramose, too high for safety, who on both sides is of the race of kings. Still it has made her happy to learn the truth, because she thinks that this will please you who have wed one of whom you need not be ashamed. She is happy also because now I am leading her to worship the God of her fathers Whom I serve, and lastly because she knows that you live in this same city and believes that He will throw His shield over you and her and keep you safe. For, Ramose, day and night she thinks of you and prays to God for you."

Now when I heard this my heart melted in me with love and longing, so that almost with tears I implored the prophet that even if I might not speak or write to her, he would suffer me to look on Myra with my eyes. At length he yielded.

"Hearken," he said. "Behind my house there is a little garden through which runs a channel of water planted on its banks with willow trees. Beneath these willows Myra sits in the cool of the afternoon, reading or doing such tasks as please her. Now overlooking this garden is another house that the king gave to me together with that in which I dwell, where at times I shelter those of my race who need it. To–day it is empty. Belus shall lead you there and from its upper window, hidden yourself behind the shutter, you may look on Myra, although she will not know that your eyes behold her. This you may do on one day in every seven, that which is our Sabbath, and no more, swearing to me that you will not attempt to call to her or show yourself, and this for your sake as well as hers, also for the sake of me and of my oath. Babylon is full of spies, O Ramose, and were it known that a man was so much as gazing upon a lady of the king's household who is in my charge, it would bring death to him and perhaps to her, with much trouble upon me. Swear now and leave me."

So I swore and went.

The fourth day from that of my meeting with the prophet who was called Belteshazzar, was that of the Sabbath of the worshippers of Jehovah, and until it came it is true that I scarcely ate or slept, because the desire to behold Myra burned me up. At noon on that day, when men rested in the fierce heat and few were in the streets save beggars and others who slept in such shade as they could find, Belus and I, wrapped in the cloaks worn by the poorer class of traders in Babylon, made our way to the house of which the prophet had spoken.

Passing to the back of this house which was set almost against the wall of an old and deserted building, once occupied by priests and therefore, for some superstitious reason, no longer dwelt in by others, Belus led me to a secret entrance that could only be reached through the wall and doubtless was used by the priests for their own purposes when they owned this house in ancient days. At least there was the narrow, hidden door that he unlocked with a strange key, and beyond it a dark and twisting passage leading to the cellars of the house whence a stair, or rather a ladder, ran to the floor above. Locking the door behind us we climbed this ladder and came to a stairway of brick that led to the upper rooms, for like many of the houses of Babylon where land was precious, this was built in several storeys.

Entering a room that was well but plainly furnished, we found in it a window–place projecting from the wall of the house, around which were fixed wooden shutters whereof the bars that were many, opened upon hinges to admit air and to enable those in the room to look out whilst they remained unseen from below.

Belus went to this window–place and tilting up one of the shutter bars, showed me that beneath us at a distance of not more than ten or twelve paces, lay an enclosed garden such as the prophet had described, of which the house formed a boundary wall. There was the stream, or rather ditch of water, planted with flowering lilies that floated on its surface; there were the willow trees with their weeping branches in which birds were nesting, and there beneath them were low cushioned seats and a rough table of wood.

Here in this chamber we waited a long while, till at length the great sun turned towards the west and the city around us, awakening from its midday sleep, began to hum with life. Then at last we saw white hands part the willow branches and a tall figure glide across a little bridge of planks and enter the green arbour, as we could do easily because the branches did not grow thickly towards the blank wall of our house where there was little light and no sun. It was Myra—Myra herself clad in simple white robes on which hung a single ornament, the lily–bloom enclosed in crystal, but looking more beauteous in them even than she had done when arrayed in jewels and glorious apparel, she was brought into the palace halls of Babylon to be presented to its king.

For a space she stood motionless gazing at the lilies floating upon the water. Almost was I tempted to call to her; indeed I think I should have done so, had not Belus, guessing my purpose, whispered in my ear―

"Remember your oath."

I bit my lips and kept silence.

She sighed—I could hear her sigh; then sinking down upon the cushions she bent forward and drew one of the floating lily blooms towards her as though to pluck it. If so, she changed her mind for she loosed it and taken by the current, it swung back to its place. Then she lifted the crystal from her breast, studied the flower within, pressed it to her lips and letting it fall, began to weep very softly, a sight that I could scarcely bear.

At length she paused and wiping away her tears, sank to her knees upon a cushion and prayed aloud but in so low a voice that I could hear little of what she said. Still I caught some words, such as—"God of my fathers. God above all gods, Thou that hast power even in mighty Babylon and over the hearts of its princes." …

Then came murmurings not to be distinguished, and after them, these words, spoken more clearly as though the weight of sorrow pressed them from her heart:

"…Ramose my most beloved, he from whom I have been stolen, my husband whom my arms ache to hold. Oh! bring me to him or let me die. Let me not be defiled by the touch of this vile prince who seeks me. Nay, rather let me die clean and wait till Ramose comes to join me in the grave."

She ceased her pitiful prayer, pressed the crystal case passionately against her lips once more and drawing a roll from a satchel that she had with her, began to read.

Not for long did she read, for presently she threw down the roll, pressed her hands upon her heart as though to still its beating, and glanced about her wide–eyed, while the colour came and went upon her cheeks.

Then I knew that she felt me near to her. Yes, that love opened some door in her breast through which had entered a knowledge that her senses could not seize. In her agitation she spoke to herself in a low and thrilling whisper that floating on the still air, reached me faintly in the window–place.

"I feel Ramose near me," she said. "Is he dead? Does his loosed spirit speak with mine yet captive in the flesh? Nay, it is his living love that beats upon me, wave after wave of it filling the cup of my heart. I dream! I dream! Oh! would that the dream might last for ever, for in it his lips touch mine that hunger for them. Oh! Ramose my love, Ramose my own, come to me, Ramose, and not in dreams."

Such words as these she murmured and others that I could not catch.

Now I was gripped by mad temptation. A strong creeping plant from whose woody stems hung masses of blue flowers, climbed up the wall and past our window–place, by aid of which it would not be difficult to descend into that garden. In the fury of my great desire, honour and all else was forgotten. I would descend. I would be with her; if only for a breath I would hold her in my arms though my life should pay the forfeit. Might I not take my own? Already, staggering like a drunken man, I was at the shutter, purposing to push it back, when I heard the voice of Belus whisper:

"Remember your oath, Ramose. Shall it be written that you are a liar?"

"By the gods, no!" I answered huskily. "Let us go before I fall."

With one last glance at the passionate loveliness of Myra, who seemed to have taken fire from the power of her living dream and now stood glancing about her with parted lips and heaving breast, I turned, cursing my fate, and reeled towards the doorway. Behold! in it stood a man, the prophet himself! He gazed at me sternly, yet with a little smile playing about the corners of his thin mouth.

"You have fought well, Ramose, and gained a victory that one day should not lack for its reward."

"Not I, but Belus," I muttered.

"Nay, Belus did but give tongue to your own conscience. Learn that had you yielded, what you sought would never have been yours. Though none can hear her words, eyes other than your own, the eyes of women and of eunuchs, watch that lady always from a hidden place when she is unguarded in the garden, and had a man been seen to join her, she would have been dragged away to suffer the fate of those who are faithless to the king. Yes, to die by fire or water—or if his officers were very merciful, to be mutilated and made hideous, and thus cast upon the streets where you would never find her, for you would be dead."

I shivered, for Myra not for myself, because at that moment I thought death would be better than so much suffering. Then words came to me and I said,

"I have gone near to great evil. I pray your pardon for being but a man. Prophet, unless you bid me, I will come to this place no more, lest once again passion should lead me whither I would not go. If you may, tell Myra that I have seen her and aught else that you think wise, for it is not in the heart of woman to think the worse of one who has done wrong because he loves her overmuch."

"So be it," he answered, still smiling faintly, and thus we parted.

Thus it came about that until fate drove me there, I came to that house no more.

Now I have to tell of the death of Nabonidus. For many weeks I dwelt on in the palace and almost every day this kindly old king, save when he was too ill or too troubled with the affairs of state, sent for me, and sometimes for Belus his cousin also, to talk with him about such matters as the learned love. It was strange to see him, still one of the mighty monarchs of the world, caring for none of its glories, hating them even; turning his back upon high officers and lovely women; upon the pomp, jewels and worship which in the East are offered to the king, to give all his time and thought to the study of ancient writings or forgotten temples, and to the history and attributes of a thousand gods. Yet such was the pleasure of this shrewd but innocent mind, and to it I was a minister. Indeed had I chosen, I might have become great in Babylon, for he would have heaped on me any wealth and offices that I desired. But I did not choose who sought above all things to remain humble and unknown.

So under the name of Ptahmes, by which I had passed since I entered Babylonia, I remained in the palace, as did scores of others to whom it pleased the king to give hospitality in that vast building, which covered almost as much ground as does the Great Pyramid near Memphis.

Here I gave out that I was an Egyptian born of a Cyprian mother at Naukratis in the Delta, a man of independent means who followed after learning and in its pursuit wandered from land to land, desiring to see them and to study their customs and peoples that I might write of them in a book. This tale was accepted readily enough for since I had been acquitted by the king and admitted to his friendship, the accusation against me of being a spy in the pay of Egypt or of Persia was forgotten, as soon most things were in the vast metropolis of Babylon, a city where memories were very short, especially concerning those whom it pleased the king to favour. So I dwelt in peace, consorting only with a few other learned men, to whom Belus made me known as a friend of his with whom he had studied at Naukratis in Egypt. For now Belus had recovered the lost ties of his youth and was accepted everywhere as a noble of Babylon, a blood relation of the king, a priest of the gods and an astrologer of high degree.

Here I should say that shortly after I had seen Myra in the prophet's garden Belshazzar, the king's son and heir, left Babylon at the head of a great army to wage war against Cyrus the Persian who was threatening the empire, and while his enemy was away Belus was safer than he had been before. Therefore he too remained at peace in the city. Why he did so I was not sure, seeing that the place was still perilous for him. When I asked him, he said that he would not leave me and Myra with whom his lot was intertwined, and when I pressed him further, that he was commanded to bide here by the stars which he consulted after the fashion of the great astrologers of Babylon.

Yet all the while I knew that he was hiding his true reason. In those days there was something fateful, even terrible about Belus. Often I watched the old man pretending to read or to consult mysterious signs written upon skins or tablets and noted that his mind was far away. There he sat like a sphinx, his lips pressed together, his eyes, cold and fixed, staring out at nothingness and his face grown fierce as that of a lion which scents its prey.

At such times if I spoke to him all this would fall from him like a mask; the eyes twinkled, the face grew friendly and a smile appeared around the lips where it was wont to be, so that I wondered which was the real appearance and which the mask. Little did I know of the great schemes that seethed in the heart of Belus; of the mighty plots he wove in his cunning brain and of the terrible revenge he planned, or why at night he met many of the great ones of Babylon now here and now there, and talked with them secretly.

When I asked him of these meetings he answered that those great lords and priests came together to consult their stars, as indeed in a sense they did. To this I said nothing though I thought it very strange that men, however gifted, should be able to consult stars on nights of full moon when the sky was almost as bright as day, or as I knew sometimes was the case, in vaults beneath the piled–up mass of temples.

In the beginning I was vexed who felt that for the first time for many years Belus had drawn a veil between us, hiding his secrets from me, but after thought, I grew sure that this must be for some good reason. So it was in truth, for as I learned later, he held that there was much passing in Babylon which it would be dangerous for me to know, because those who knew might suddenly find themselves face to face with death.

On a certain day when, as was common, I had been summoned by one of his chamberlains to wait upon Nabonidus in the private chamber where he studied, surrounded by the statues of gods and other relics of antiquity, I found the old king much changed. In body he seemed weaker than I had ever known him. He could scarcely rise from his chair without my help, and to do so left him almost breathless for a while. I asked if he were ill and if so why he did not summon his physician.

"No, not ill, Friend," (for so he often called me now) "but only burning out. Physicians cannot help me and I will have no more of them. Indeed for the matter of that, I have seen Belus, my cousin and your companion, who having studied in Egypt among the Greeks, knows more than do most of those in Babylon, who doctor men according to their reading of the stars or the divinations of those who consult omens."

"What did Belus tell you, O King?"

"Nothing, Friend. He bade me open my robe and set his ear against my naked breast and listened to my heart. Then he shook his head and was silent and I knew that the day of my fate was upon me."

"May the King live for ever!" I murmured in the accustomed form, not knowing what else to say.

"Aye," he answered smiling, "so long as it is not in another Babylon beyond the Gates of Darkness. Friend, I must go as all these have gone," and he pointed to the statues of dead monarchs that stood about the room and to the writings sealed with their seals. "I will tell you the truth. I am glad to go, though I must be stripped of all my pomp and power and pass naked to whence I came."

He paused a while, then went on,

"Egyptian, they say that dying eyes see far, and certainly I see much woe coming upon Babylon, or at the least upon her kings. Have you not heard of Cyrus the Persian?"

I bent my head.

"And have you heard that this great man, for he is great, has but now defeated Belshazzar my son at Opis and threatens Zippar?"

"I have not heard it, O King."

"Yet it is so, for swift posts have brought the news. Doubtless soon his armies will threaten Babylon, aye, and as I think, take it, for both the people and the army hate the Prince, my son, and will fight for him but feebly, making an end of my House and its rule, and perchance of the ancient city, queen of the world, also."

Again he paused, and presently continued,

"If so, she has brought it on her own head, for I tell you, Egyptian, that Babylon is evil; aye, she is a bladder filled with sin and the blood of peoples, a bladder waiting to be pricked. Belshazzar, too," he added with passion, "my son who already rules the empire in all but name, is an evil man. From his boyhood up he has been turbulent, lustful, cruel and bloody, one who wades through death to his desires, a tyrant, a betrayer of his friends. Moreover it is too late for him to change who is past his fiftieth year. How long will the gods bear with such a man? Against our foes he might fight, for the empire still is mighty, but can he fight the enemies in his own house? I tell you the people murmur against him and the nobles plot to overthrow him when I am gone. So let me go where, being innocent, I hope for peace. Blessed are the dead for they sleep, or if they wake, of earth and its troubles they know no more."

Thus he spoke in a voice that grew faint and yet fainter till it ended in a kind of wail and died into silence, so that I thought he was about to swoon. But it was not so, for presently he recovered his strength and said,

"I talk much of myself as is the fashion of the aged, and of what I fear or feel, forgetting that others also have evils to bear and face. You for example, Friend. Let me think, what were they? Oh! I remember. That beauteous woman whom the dog Amasis tried to palm off on me as a princess of Egypt, but who, it seems, is a private lady and your wife, or so you and Belus swear. I hear she swears it also, but in such matters none can believe what comes out of a woman's mouth. The business is unhappy. Could I have my will, you might take her at once and welcome, but here I face a rock which even the king cannot move, namely the law concerning the ladies of the royal household on which one might think that the whole empire of Babylon was built. Moreover someone is at work in this matter, for when on your behalf and hers, that old prophet of Judah put it into my mind to try to find a way round this rock, all paths were blocked, I know not by whom."

"Perhaps by the Prince Belshazzar," I hazarded.

"It may be so; indeed it is very likely, for Belshazzar is always coveting this one or that, even though they be of his father's household, at any rate in name. Well, I say that the way is blocked and if I tried to force a path, the priests would stir as though an insult had been done to their gods. Yes, there would be scandals and talk of impiety by an unbelieving king, that would serve the purpose of the plotters against my House among the vulgar, and I know not what besides. So nothing can be done."

"That is sad for me and my wife," I said sighing.

"Yes, of course, though it it strange that it should be so. There are so many women in the world that it seems foolish for a man to break his heart over any one of them, when doubtless a fairer awaits him in the next street. Also there is hope in the case. Much trouble has arisen about this lady with Egypt against whom, because of her, Babylon has threatened war. Now Amasis the Pharaoh pretending to be insulted and believing you, the husband, to be dead,—I thought it well for your own sake to tell him that the man who bore forged letters to Cyrus of whom he warned us, had been caught and executed as a spy—demands that his daughter, as he calls her, should be sent back to him with a great present of gold. Yet this cannot be done for the reason I have told you, namely that she has been taken into the royal household."

"Then it seems there is an end, O King."

"Not so, for have I not told you, Friend, that even in Babylon kings do not live for ever. When I die my household is dissolved, at least after a time, and I shall die soon. Therefore because you are a brother scholar who has solaced my last months I have made a plan to serve you. As this lady and I have never met but once and that in open court, I have issued a royal decree that immediately upon my death she shall be set at liberty and sent back to Egypt with all her belongings and a gift. Moreover I have appointed that you, under the name of Ptahmes by which you are called here, for none know you to be her husband, and Belus shall accompany her, as you also wish to return to Egypt in safety, though if you are wise neither of you will set foot in that land while Amasis reigns. No, when you have crossed the borders of this country and are free, you will turn and fly whither you will, out of reach of Amasis and of Belshazzar.

"There, that is all. I am weary. The decree has been registered in due form, sealed with my own seal, and you will find a copy of it in your lodgings, for it was given to Belus only to–day that it might not miscarry. Farewell, Friend. Your theory of the beginning of the gods is most wise and pregnant; soon I shall learn whether it be true. Farewell and may all good fortune be yours. When you are as old as I am, think sometimes of Nabonidus whom they called a king, but who knew himself to be a ruler of nothing, no, not even of his own heart. Ho! chamberlain, take me hence, I would sleep."