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 tell somewhat of her, we will avail ourselves of the chance, and add such particulars of the family into whose privacy we are brought as the reader may wish to know.
The favors of Herod had left surviving him many persons of vast estate.
Where this fortune was joined to undoubted lineal descent from some famous son of one of the tribes, especially Judah, the happy individual was accounted a Prince of Jerusalem— a distinction which sufficed to bring him the homage of his less favored countrymen, and the respect, if nothing more, of the Gentiles with whom business and social circumstance brought him into dealing.
Of this class none had won in private or public life a higher regard than the father of the lad whom we have been following.
With a remembrance of his nationality which never failed him, he had yet been true to the king, and served him faithfully at home and abroad.
Some offices had taken him to Rome, where his conduct attracted the notice of Augustus, who strove without reserve to engage his friendship.
In his house, accordingly, were many presents, such as had gratified the vanity of kings— purple togas, ivory chairs, golden pateroe— chiefly valuable on account of the imperial hand which had honorably conferred them.
Such a man could not fail to be rich; yet his wealth was not altogether the largess of royal patrons.
He had welcomed the law that bound him to some pursuit; and, instead of one, he entered into many.
Of the herdsmen watching 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 brought him silver from Spain, whose mines were then the richest known; while his caravans came twice a year from the East, laden with silks and spices.
In faith he was a Hebrew, observant of the law and every essential rite; his place in the synagogue and Temple knew him well; he was thoroughly learned in the Scriptures; he delighted in the society of the college-masters, and carried his reverence for Hillel almost to the point of worship.
Yet he was in no sense a Separatist; his hospitality took in strangers from every land; the carping Pharisees even accused him of having more than once entertained Samaritans at his table.
Had he been a Gentile, and lived, the world might have heard of him as the rival of Herodes Atticus: as it was, he perished at sea some ten years before this second period of our story, in the prime of life, and lamented everywhere in Judea.
We are already acquainted with two members of his family— his widow and son; the only other was a daughter— she whom we have seen singing to her brother.
Tirzah was her name, and as the two looked at each other, their resemblance was plain.
Her features had the regularity of his, and were of the same Jewish type; they had also the charm of childish innocency of expression.
Home-life and its trustful love permitted the negligent attire in which she appeared.
A chemise buttoned upon the right shoulder, and passing loosely over the breast and back and under the left arm, but half concealed her person above the waist, while it left the arms entirely nude.
A girdle caught the folds of the garment, marking the commencement of the skirt.
The coiffure was very simple and becoming— a silken cap, Tyrian-dyed; and over that a striped scarf of the same material, beautifully embroidered, and wound about in thin folds so as to show the shape of the head without enlarging it; the whole finished by a tassel dropping from the crown point of the cap.
She had rings, ear and finger; anklets and bracelets, all of gold; and around her neck there was a collar of gold, curiously garnished with a network of delicate chains, to which were pendants of pearl.
The edges of her eyelids were painted, and the tips of her fingers stained.
Her hair fell in two long plaits down her back.
A curled lock rested upon each cheek in front of the ear.
Altogether it would have been impossible to 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 did you get it?”
“You remember the Greek who sang in the theatre last month?
They said he used to be a singer at the court for Herod and his sister Salome.
He came out just after an exhibition of wrestlers, when the house was full of noise.
At his first note everything became so quiet that 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 as good?”
“Very many.
But let them go now.
Amrah sent me to tell you she will bring you your breakfast, and that you need not come down.
She should be here by this time.
She thinks you sick— that a dreadful accident happened you yesterday.
What was it?