Books: Ardath

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And he spread out fresh slips of papyrus and again prepared his
long quill.

Sah-luma smiled, as one who is tolerant of the whims of a hired
buffoon,--and, this time seating himself in his ebony chair, was
about to commence dictating his Second Canto when Theos, yielding
to his desire to speak aloud the idea that had just flashed across
his brain said abruptly:

"Has it ever seemed to thee, Sah-luma, as it now does to me, that
there is a strange resemblance between thy imaginative description
of the ideal 'Nourhalma,' and the actual charms and virtues of thy
strayed singing-maid Niphrata?"

Sah-luma looked up, thoroughly astonished, and laughed.

"No!--Verily I have not traced, nor can I trace the smallest
vestige of a similarity! Why, good Theos, there is none!--not the
least in the world,--for this heroine of mine, Nourhalma, loves in
vain, and sacrifices all, even her innocent and radiant life, for
love, as thou wilt hear in the second half of the poem,--moreover
she loves one who is utterly unworthy of her faithful tenderness.
Now Niphrata is a child of delicate caprice ... she loves ME,--me,
her lord,--and methinks I am not negligent or undeserving of her
devotion! ... again, she has no strength of spirit,--her timorous
blood would freeze at the mere thought of death,--she is more
prone to play with flowers and sing for pure delight of heart than
perish for the sake of love! 'Tis an unequal simile, my friend!--
as well compare a fiery planet with a twinkling dewdrop, as draw a
parallel between the heroic ideal maid 'Nourhalma'--and my
fluttering singing-bird, Niphrata!"

Theos sighed involuntarily,--but forcing a smile, let the subject
drop and held his peace, while Sah-luma, taking up the thread of
his poetical narrative, went on reciting. When the story began to
ripen toward its conclusion he grew more animated, ... rising, he
paced the room as he declaimed the splendid lines that now rolled
gloriously one upon another like deep-mouthed billows thundering
on the shore,--his gestures were all indicative of the fervor of
his inward ecstasy,--his eyes flashed,--his features glowed with
that serene, proud light of conscious power and triumph that rests
on the calm, wide brows of the sculptured Apollo,--and Theos,
leaning one arm in a half-sitting posture, contemplated him with a
curious sensation of wistful eagerness and passionate pain, such
as might be felt by some forgotten artist mysteriously permitted
to come out of his grave and wander back to earth, there to see
his once-rejected pictures hung in places of honor among the
world's chief treasures.

A strange throb of melancholy satisfaction stirred his pulses as
he reflected that he might now, without any self-conceit, at least
ADMIRE the poem!--since he had decided that was no longer his, but
another's, he was free to bestow on it as much as he would of
unstinting praise! For it was very fine,--there could be no doubt
of that, whatever Zabastes might say to the contrary,--and it was
not only fine, but intensely, humanly pathetic, seeming to strike
a chord of passion such as had never before been sounded,--a chord
to which the world would be COMPELLED to listen,--yes,--COMPELLED!
thought Theos exultingly,--as Sah-luma drew nearer and nearer the
close of his dictation ... The deep quiet all around was so heavy
as to be almost uncomfortable in its oppressiveness,--it exercised
a sort of strain upon the nerves ...

Hark! what was that? Through the hot and silent air swept a sullen
surging noise as of the angry shouting of a vast multitude,--then
came the fast and furious gallop of many horses,--and again that
fierce, resentful roar of indignation, swelling up as it seemed
from thousands of throats. Moved, all three at once, by the same
instinctive desire to know what was going on, Theos, Sah-luma, and
Zabastes sprang from their different places in the room, and
hurried out on the marble terrace, dashing aside the silken
awnings as they went in order the better to see the open glimpses
of the city thoroughfares that lay below. Theos, leaning far out
over the western half of the balustrade, was able to command a
distant view of the great Square in which the huge white granite
Obelisk occupied so prominent a position, and, fixing his eyes
attentively on this spot, saw that it was filled to overflowing
with a dense mass of people, whose white-raimented forms, pressed
together in countless numbers, swayed restlessly to and fro like
the rising waves of a stormy sea.

Lifted above this troubled throng, one tall, dark figure was
distinctly outlined against the dazzling face of the Obelisk--a
figure that appeared to be standing on the back of the colossal
Lion that lay couchant beneath. And as Theos strained his sight to
distinguish the details of the scene more accurately, he suddenly
beheld a glittering regiment of mounted men in armor, charging
straightly and with cruelly determined speed, right into the
centre of the crowd, apparently regardless of all havoc to life
and limb that might ensue. Involuntarily he uttered an exclamation
of horror at what seemed to him so wanton and brutal an act, when
just then Sah-luma caught him eagerly by the arm,--Sah-luma, whose
soft, oval countenance was brilliant with excitement, and in whose
eyes gleamed a mingled expression of mirth and ferocity.

"Come, come, my friend!" he said hastily--"Yonder is a sight worth
seeing! 'Tis the mad Khosrul who is thus entrenched and fortified
by the mob,--as I live, that sweeping gallop of His Majesty's
Royal Guards is magnificent! They will seize the Prophet this time
without fail! Aye, if they slay a thousand of the populace in the
performance of their duty! Come!--let us hasten to the scene of
action--'twill be a struggle I would not miss for all the world!"

He sprang down the steps of the loggia, accompanied by Theos, who
was equally excited,--when all at once Zabastes, thrusting out his
head through a screen of vine-leaves, cried after them:

"Sah-luma!--Most illustrious! What of the poem? It is not
finished!"

"No matter!" returned Sah-luma--"'Twill be finished hereafter!"

And he hastened on, Theos treading close in his footsteps and
thinking as he went of the new enigma thus proposed to puzzle
afresh the weary workings of his mind. HIS poem of Nourhalma--
or rather the poem he had fancied was his--had been entirely
completed down to the last line; now Sah-luma's was left "TO BE
FINISHED HEREAFTER."

Strange that he should find a pale glimmering of consolation in
this!--a feeble hope that perhaps after all, at some future time,
he might be able to produce a few, a very few lines of noble verse
that should be deemed purely original! ... enough perchance, to
endow him with a faint, far halo of diminished glory such as
plodding students occasionally win, by following humbly yet
ardently ... even as he now followed Sah-luma ... in the paths of
excellence marked out by greater men!

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE FALL OF THE OBELISK.

In less time than he could have imagined possible, he found
himself in the densely crowded Square, buffeting and struggling
against an angry and rebellious mob, who half resentful and half
terrified, had evidently set themselves to resist the determined
charge made by the mounted soldiery into their midst. For once
Sah-luma's appearance created no diversion,--he was pushed and
knocked about as unceremoniously as if he were the commonest
citizen of them all, He seemed carelessly surprised at this, but
nevertheless took his hustling very good humoredly, and, keeping
his shoulders well squared forced his way with Theos by slow
degrees through the serried ranks of people, many of whom, roused
to a sort of frenzy threw themselves in front of the advancing
horses of the guard, and seizing the reins held on to these like
grim death, reckless of all danger.

As yet no weapons were used either by the soldiers or the
populace,--the former seemed for the present contented to simply
ride down those who impeded their progress,--and that they had
done so in terrible earnest was plainly evident from the numbers
of wounded creatures that lay scattered about on every side in an
apparently half dying condition. Yet there was surely a strange
insensibility to suffering among them all, inasmuch as in spite of
the contention and confusion there were no violent shrieks of
either pain or fury,--no exclamations of rage or despair,--no
sound whatever indeed, save a steady, sullen, monotonous snarl of
opposition, above which the resonant voice of the Prophet Khosrul
rang out like a silver clarion.

"O people doomed and made desolate!" he cried.. "O nation once
mighty, brought low to the dust of destruction! Hear me, ye strong
men and fair women!--and you, ye poor little children who never
again shall see the sun rise on the thousand domes of Al-Kyris!
Lift up the burden of bitter lamentation!--lift it up to the
Heaven of Heavens, the Throne of the All-Seeing Glory, the Giver
of Law, the Destroyer of Evil! Weep! ... weep for your sins and
the sins of your sons and your daughters--cast off the jewels of
pride,--rend the fine raiment, ... let your tears be abundant as
the rain and dew! Kneel down and cry aloud on the great and
terrible Unknown God--the God ye have denied and wronged,--the
Founder of worlds, who doth hold in His Hand the Sun as a torch,
and scattereth stars with the fire of His breath! Mourn and bend
ye all beneath the iron stroke of Destiny!--for know ye not how
fierce a thing has come upon Al-Kyris? ... a thing that lips
cannot utter nor words define,--a thing more horrible than strange
sounds in thick darkness,--more deadly than the lightning when it
leaps from Heaven with intent to slay! O City stately beyond all
cities! Thy marble palaces are already ringed round with a river
of blood!--the temples of thy knowledge wherein thy wise men have
studied to exceed all wisdom, begin to totter to their fall,--thou
shalt be swept away even as a light heap of ashes, and what shall
all thy learning avail thee in that brief and fearful end! Hear
me, O people of Al-Kyris!--Hear me and cease to strive among
yourselves, ... resist not thus desperately the King's armed
minions, for to them I also speak and say,--Lo! the time
approaches when a stronger hand than that of the mighty Zephoranim
shall take me prisoner and bear me hence where most I long to go!
Peace, I command you! ... in the Name of that God whose truth I do
proclaim ... Peace!"

As he uttered the last word an instantaneous hush fell upon the
crowd,--every head was turned toward his grand, gaunt, almost
spectral figure; and even the mounted soldiery reined up their
plunging, chafing steeds and remained motionless as though
suddenly fixed to the ground by some powerful magnetic spell.
Theos and Sah-luma took immediate advantage of this lull in the
conflict, to try and secure for themselves a better point of
vantage, though there was much difficulty in pressing through the
closely packed throng, inasmuch as not a man moved to give them
passage-room.

Presently, however, Sah-luma managed to reach the nearest one of
the two great fountains, which adorned either side of the Obelisk,
and, springing as lightly as a bird on its marble edge, he stood
erect there, his picturesque form presenting itself to the view
like a fine statue set against the background of sun-tinted
foaming water that dashed high above him and sprinkled his
garments with drops of sparkling spray. Theos at once joined him,
and the two friends, holding each other fast by the arm, gazed
down on the silent, mighty multitude around them,--a huge
concourse of the citizens of Al-Kyris, who, strange as this part
of their behavior seemed, still paid no heed to the presence of
their Laureate, but with pale, rapt faces and anxious, frightened
eyes, riveted their attention entirely on the sombre, black-
garmented Prophet whose thin ghostly arms, outstretched above
them, appeared to mutely invoke in their behalf some special
miracle of mercy.

"See you not".. whispered Sah-luma to his companion,--"how yon
aged fool wears upon his breast the Symbol of his own Prophecy?
'Tis the maddest freak to thus display his death-warrant!--Only a
month ago the King issued a decree, warning all those whom it
might concern, that any one of his born subjects presuming to
carry the sign of Khosrul's newly invented Faith should surely
die! And that the crazed reprobate carries it himself makes no
exemption from the rule!"

Theos shuddered. His eyes were misty, but he could very well see
the Emblem to which Sah-luma alluded,--it was the Cross again! ...
the same sacred Prefigurement of things "to come," according to
the perplexing explanation given by the Mystic Zuriel whom he had
met in the Passage of the Tombs, though to his own mind it
conveyed no such meaning. What was it then? ... if not a Prototype
of the future, was it a Record of the Past? He dared not pursue
this question,--it seemed to send his brain reeling on the verge
of madness! He made no answer to Sah-luma's remark,--but fixed his
gaze wistfully on the tall, melancholy Shape that like a black
shadow darkened the whiteness of the Obelisk,--and his sense of
hearing became acute almost to painfulness when once more
Khosrul's deep vibrating tones peeled solemnly through the heavy
air.

"God speaks to Al-Kyris!" and as the Prophet enunciated these
words with majestic emphasis a visible thrill ran through the
hushed assemblage.. "God saith: Get thee up, O thou City of
Pleasure, from thy couch of sweet wantonness,--get thee up, gird
thee with fire, and flee into the desert of forgotten things! For
thou art become a blot on the fairness of My world, and a shame to
the brightness of My Heaven!--thy rulers are corrupt,--thy
teachers are proud of heart and narrow in judgment,--thy young men
and maidens go astray and follow each after their own vain
opinions,--in thy great temples and holy places Falsehood abides,
and Vice holds court in thy glorious palaces. Wherefore because
thou hast neither sought nor served Me, and because thou hast set
up gold as thy god, and a multitude of riches as thy chief good,
lo! now mine eyes have grown weary of beholding thee, and I will
descend upon thee suddenly and destroy thee, even as a hill of
sand is destroyed by the whirlwind,--and thou shalt be known in
the land of My creatures no more! Woe to thee that thou hast taken
pride in thy wisdom and learning, for therein lies thy much
wickedness! If thou wert truly wise thou wouldst have found Me,--
if thou wert nobly learned thou wouldst have understood My laws,--
but thou art proved altogether gross, foolish, and incapable,--and
the studies whereof thou hast boasted, the writings of thy wise
men, the charts of sea and land, the maps of thy chief
astronomers, the engraved tablets of learning, in gold, in silver,
in ivory, in stone, thy chronicles of battle and conquest, the
documents of thine explorers in far countries, the engines of
thine invention whereby thou dost press the lightning into thy
service, and make the air respond to the messages of thy kings and
councillors,--all these shall be thrust away into an everlasting
silence, and no man hereafter shall be able to declare that such
things have ever been!"

Here the speaker paused,--and Theos, surveying the vast listening
crowds, fancied they looked like an audience of moveless ghosts
rather than human beings,--so still, so pallid, so grave were
they, one and all. Khosrul continued in softer, more melancholy
accents, that, while plaintive, were still singularly impressive.

"O my ill-fated, my beloved fellow-countrymen!" he exclaimed,
extending his arms with a vehemently pleading gesture as though in
the excess of emotion he would have drawn all the people to his
heart.--"Ye unhappy ones? ... have I not given ye warning? Have I
not bidden ye beware of this great evil which should come to
pass?--Evil for which there is no remedy,--none,--neither in the
earth, nor the sea, nor the invisible comforts of the air! ... for
God hath spoken, and who shall contradict the thunder of His
voice! Behold the end is at hand of all the pleasant things of Al-
Kyris,--the feasting and the musical assemblies, the cymbal-
symphonies and the choir-dances, the labors of students and the
triumphs of sages,--all these shall seem but the mockery of
madness in the swift-descending night of overwhelming destruction!
Woe is me that ye would not listen when I called, but turned every
man to his own devices and the following after idols? Nay now,
what will ye do in extremity?--Will ye chant hymns to the Sun? Lo,
he is deaf and blind for all his golden glory, and is but a taper
set in the window of the sky, to be extinguished at God's good
pleasure! Will ye supplicate Nagaya? O fools and desperate!--how
shall a brute beast answer prayer!--Vain, vain is all beseeching,
--shut forever are the doors of escape,--therefore cover yourselves
with the garments of burial,--prepare each one his grave and rich
funeral things,--gather together the rosemary and myrrh, the
precious ointments and essences, the strings of gold and the
jewelled talismans whereby ye think to fight against corruption,--
and fall down, every man in his own wrought hollow in the ground,
face turned to earth and die--for Death hath broken through the
strong gates of Al-Kyris, and hath taken the City Magnificent
captive unknowingly! Alas, alas! that ye would not follow whither
I led,--that ye would not hearken to the Vision of the Future,
dimly yet gloriously revealed! ... the Future! ... the Future!"
...

He broke off suddenly, and raising his eyes to the deep blue sky
above him, seemed for a moment as though he were caught up in the
cloud of some wondrous dream. Still the enormous throng of people
stood hushed and motionless,--not a word, not a sound escaped
them,--there was something positively appalling in such absolute
immobility,--at least it appeared so to Theos, who could not
understand this dispassionate behavior on the part of so large and
lately excited a multitude. All at once a voice marvellously
tender, clear, and pathetic trembled on the silence,--was it,
could it be the voice of Khosrul? Yes! but so changed, so solemn,
so infinitely sweet, that it might have been some gentle angel
speaking:

"Like a fountain of sweet water in the desert, or the rising of
the moon in a gloomy midnight," he said slowly,--"Even so is the
hope and promise of the Supremely Beloved! Through the veiling
darkness of the coming ages His Light already shines upon my soul!
O blessed Advent! ... O happy Future! ... O days when privileged
Humanity shall bridge by Love the gulf between this world and
Heaven! What shall be said of Him who cometh to redeem us, O my
foreseeing spirit! What shall be told concerning His most
marvellous Beauty? Even as a dove that for pity of its helpless
younglings doth battle soft-breasted with a storm, even so shall
He descend from out His glory sempiternal, and teach us how to
conquer Sin and Death,--aye, even with the meekness of a little
child He shall approach, and choose His dwelling here among us. O
heavenly Child! O wisdom of God contained in innocence! ... happy
the learning that shall learn from Thee!--noble the pride that
shall humble itself before Thy gentleness! [Footnote: The idea of
a Saviour who should be born as Man to redeem the world was
prevalent among all nations and dates from the remotest ages.
Coming down to what must be termed quite a modern period compared
to that in which the city of Al-Kyris had its existence, we find
that the Romans under Octavius Caesar were wont to exclaim at
their sacred meetings, "The times FORETOLD BY THE SYBIL are
arrived; may a new age soon restore that Saturn? SOON MAY THE
CHILD BE BORN WHO SHALL BANISH THE AGE OF IRON?" Tacitus and
Suetonius both mention the prophecies "in the sacred books of the
priests" which declare that the "East shall be in commotion," and
that "MEN FROM JUDEA" shall subject "everything to their
dominion."] O Prince of Manhood and Divinity entwined! Thou shalt
acquaint Thyself with human griefs, and patiently unravel the
perplexities of human longings!--to prove Thy sacred sympathy with
suffering, Thou shalt be content to suffer,--to explain the
mystery of Death, Thou shalt even be content to die. O people of
Al-Kyris, hear ye all the words that tell of this Wonderful,
Inestimable King of Peace,--mine aged eyes do see Him now, far,
far off in the rising mist of unformed future things!--the Cross--
the Cross, on which His Man's pure Life dissolves itself in glory,
stretches above me in spreading beams of light! ... Ah! 'tis a
glittering pathway in the skies whereon men and the angels meet
and know each other! He is the strong and perfect Spirit, that
shall break loose from Death and declare the insignificance of the
Grave,--He is the lingering Star in the East that shall rise and
lighten all spiritual darkness--the unknown, unnamed Redeemer of
the World, ... the Man-God Saviour that SHALL COME?"

"SHALL come?" cried Theos, suddenly roused to the utmost pitch of
frenzied excitement, and pronouncing each word with loud and
involuntary vehemence ... "Nay! ... for He HAS come! HE DIED FOR
US, AND ROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD MORE THAN EIGHTEEN HUNDRED YEARS
AGO!"

* * * * *

A frightful silence followed,--a breathless cessation of even the
faintest quiver of sound. The mighty mass of people, apparently
moved by one accord, turned with swift, stealthy noiselessness
toward the audacious speaker, ... thousands of glittering eyes
were fixed upon him in solemnly inquiring wonderment, while he
himself, now altogether dismayed at the effect of his own rash
utterance, thought he had never experienced a more awful moment!
For it was as though all the skeletons he had lately seen in the
Passage of the Tombs had suddenly clothed themselves with spectral
flesh and hair and the shadowy garments of men, and had advanced
into broad daylight to surround him in their terrible lifeless
ranks, and wrench from him the secret of an after-existence
concerning which THEY were ignorant!

How ghostly and drear seemed that dense crowd in this new light of
his delirious fancy! A clammy dew broke out on his forehead,--he
saw the blue skies, the huge buildings in the Square, the Obelisk,
the fountains, the trees, all whirling round him in a wild dance
of the dizziest distraction, ... when Sah-luma's rich voice close
to his ear recalled his wandering senses:

"Why, man, art thou drunk or mad?" and the Laureate's face
expressed a kind of sarcastic astonishment,--"What a fool thou
hast made of thyself, good comrade! ... By my soul, how shall thy
condition be explained to these open-mouthed starers below! See
how they gape upon thee! ... thou art most assuredly a noticeable
spectacle! ... and yon maniac Prophet doth evidently judge thee as
one of his craft, a fellow professional howler of marvels, else he
would scarcely deign to fix his eyes so obstinately on thy
countenance! Nay, verily thou dost outrival him in the strangeness
of thy language! ... What moved thee to such frenzied utterance?
Surely thou hast a stroke of the sun!--thy words were most
absolutely devoid of reason! ... as senseless as the jabber of an
idiot to his own shadow on the wall!"

Theos was mute,--he had no defense to offer. The crowd still
stared upon him,--and his heart beat fast with a mingled sense of
fear and pride--fear of his present surroundings,--pride that he
had spoken out his conviction boldly, reckless of all
consequences. And this pride was a most curious thing to analyze,
because it did not so much consist in the fact of his having
openly confessed his inward thought, as that he felt he had gained
some special victory in thus ACKNOWLEDGING HIS BELIEF IN THE
POSITIVE EXISTENCE OF THE "Saviour" who formed the subject of
Khosrul's prophecy. Full of a singular sort of self-congratulation
which yet had nothing to do with selfishness, he became so
absorbed in his own reflections that he started like a man
brusquely aroused from sleep when the Prophet's strong grave voice
apostrophized him personally over the heads of the throng:

"Who and what art thou, that dost speak of the FUTURE as though it
were the PAST? Hast thou held converse with the Angels, and is
Past and Future ONE with thee in the dream of the departing
Present? Answer me, thou stranger to the city of Al-Kyris! ... Has
God taught THEE the way to Everlasting Life?"

Again that awful silence made itself felt like a deadly chill on
the sunlit air,--the quiet, patient crowds seemed waiting in
hushed suspense for some reply which should be as a flash of
spiritual enlightenment to leap from one to the other with
kindling heat and radiance, and vivify them all into a new and
happier existence. But now, when Theos most strongly desired to
speak, he remained dumb as stone! ... vainly he struggled against
and contended with the invisible, mysterious, and relentless
despotism that smote him on the mouth as it were, and deprived him
of all power of utterance, ... his tongue was stiff and frozen,
... his very lips were sealed! Trembling violently, he gazed
beseechingly at Sah-luma, who held his arm in a firm and friendly
grasp, and who, apparently quickly perceiving that he was
distressed and embarrassed, undertook himself to furnish forth
what he evidently considered a fitting response to Khosrul's
adjuration.