CHAPTER III.
MENELAUS.
Two years have passed, and the fate which Jason had declared to be beyondall limits of probability or possibility has actually overtaken him. Oneof his agents, named Oniah, who has assumed the name of Menelaues, for therage for Greek fashions still continues unabated, has outbidden him, andnow reigns in his stead, occupying the palace on Mount Sion which he hadbeen at such pains to adorn.
If we look into his library we shall see not only the books andstatuettes--the silver tankards are gone, melted down into money that waswanted for some sudden exigency--but our old acquaintance, Cleon. Thesupple Greek was not one of those who take their friends for better, forworse. Jason was wandering about among the hills of Ammon with scarcely agarment to his back or a shekel that he could call his own, and what usecould he find for the company of an accomplished gentleman, who had askeen an eye as any one for a fine bit of sculpture or painting, and couldnot be rivalled, out of the profession, in his taste for wine? Theaccomplished gentleman knew where he was appreciated, where he was of use,and, naturally, where he was well off. Accordingly he had found means, assuch people always do find means, of ingratiating himself with the newoccupant of the palace, and was installed as his consulting connoisseurand chief adviser in matters of taste.
"A poor creature, certainly," he had replied to some depreciatorycriticism which Menelaues had passed on his predecessor, "but it must beallowed that he had a taste in art."
"Or was sensible enough to be guided by those who had," said Menelaues.
Cleon acknowledged the compliment with a bow, and went on, "I never foundhim make any difficulty about the price. And, of course, if a man goes towork in that spirit, and has good advice, too, he is bound to make a finecollection."
Menelaues received the observation with a grimace, and a significant shrugof the shoulders. "'No difficulty about the price,' you say. Of coursenot. Why should he? When a man doesn't pay, he is apt to be easy about theamount. Do you know that the bills for half the things that you see inthis room have been sent in to me? Sometimes he had to pay the money down.The 'Gladiator' there, from Pergamum could not have been got without readycash; but wherever he could, he went on credit, and now the dealers aredown upon me."
And he held up a sheaf of bills.
"Here," he went on, "is a pretty account from Theodotus of Alexandria, thebookseller, you know:
"'_A Manuscript of Anacreon_ (said to be 10 minae.autograph)_The Milesian Tales_ 5 "_Drinking Songs from Cratinus_ 2 "'
And so it goes on, with a quantity of books which I am sure the oldimpostor never read. Two talents and twelve minae it comes to altogether.Then here is 'A Group of the Graces, 1 talent;' 'Silenus, 20 minae;' 'Satyrand Nymphs, half a talent.' 'Set of Flagons, worked with the Labours ofHercules, 2 talents.' These the villain melted down before he went. Fancythe rascality of that! Why, the silver by weight could not have been wortha fourth part of what it cost with the workmanship."
"Well," said Cleon, "the fellows can wait. They can afford it; I knowenough about these things to be sure that they get a very handsome profit.I used to travel, you know, for Cleisthenes of Syracuse, and so got toknow something about the secrets of the trade. No, you need not be afraidof making them wait."
"Well, they have waited three years already," returned Menelaues; "and verylikely will have to be out of their money for as many more. But here is agentleman who won't wait. Here is Sostratus" (Sostratus, it should bementioned, was Governor of the Castle, which was garrisoned by Syriantroops, and so the representative of King Antiochus)--"here is Sostratusasking for the half-year's tribute, and giving me a pretty strong hintthat, if I don't send it, he shall come and take it for himself. And whereis the money to come from?"
"Well," said Cleon, with a little laugh, "I suppose there is one way toget milk, and that is to go to the cow, or the goat, or the sheep. Yousee, we have a certain choice between big and little. And so, if you wantmoney, you must go to the people, I suppose."
"The people! they are squeezed absolutely dry, at least one would thinkso. I could tell you stories about the squeezing that would make you splityour sides with laughing. There was old Levi, a Bethlehem farmer; theyboiled him, or half-boiled him, because he would not pay his taxes--saidthat he couldn't, the old villain! They put him in a caldron, you see, andkept heating it up, because he would not tell where he had hidden hismoney."
"Well, did they get it out of him?"
"No, the obstinate old dog, he would not say a word; but before he wasquite finished his wife brought the coins from her head-dress and boughthim off. They say that he was the queerest figure when he came out of thewater, with the skin hanging about him in folds. Well, at all events, itwas a good washing for him. He had never been so clean in his lifebefore."
"And did he recover?" asked Menander.
"Upon my word, I can't remember. But I do know that we got the money."(5)
"Well, I remember what your predecessor used to say. It was in this veryroom about two years ago that I asked him whether he felt quite safe. 'Oh,yes!' he answered, 'I have got the last farthing that is to be got, andthere is an end of it!'"
"Well," replied the high priest, "there are other ways of getting moneybesides taxes. I will allow that Jason worked the taxes as well as a mancould. No one can eat or drink, lie down or get up, walk or ride, travelor stay at home, be born or marry, or be buried, without having to pay forit. No! I do not see room for another, and I am sure that it is not forwant of looking. But, as I said, there are other ways. Now--can you keep asecret?"
"A secret! I should say so--not the grave itself better!"
"Hush! my friend, good words! good words!" cried the high priest, whofelt, or affected to feel, the common Greek superstition against wordsthat seemed to carry an evil omen with them. "Well, if you can, comehere."
So saying, Menelaues took his friend into an adjoining room, and opening acupboard, secured, as the Greek observed, by an iron door and by a lock ofelaborate construction, showed him a number of massive gold vases.
"And where do these come from?" asked Cleon, almost dazzled by thesplendid array.
"Where should they come from, but from the Temple? Some of these have gota history of their own. You see that two-handled cup? King Artaxerxes gaveit to Nehemiah: solid gold. And you see those splendid sapphires in thehandles? The very biggest stones of the sort I have ever seen, and worththree talents each. Then there is that salver, Alexander of Macedon gaveit to the Temple; and that casket there was a present from the firstPtolemy."
"But, my dear sir," said the Greek, astonished at the audacity of thewhole affair, "is not this going a little too far? Suppose the people wereto find it out? Would there not be a rather formidable uproar?"
"Well, of course; we cannot get anything without risk. But I have takenprecautions. First, I have put a facsimile of every one of these in theTemple; gilded lead, which does perfectly well for all practicalpurposes."
"But the weight! Surely any one can tell the difference by the weight."
"Of course, my dear Cleon, I know that lead is little more than half asheavy as gold. But there are ways of making it up. You can put a greatdeal more metal in, without its being observed, and almost make up thedifference. And, you see, the things are never allowed to be handled; canonly be looked at. I have given very strict orders about that, you may besure. Of course the treasurer is in the secret; but as he must sink orswim with me, he may be trusted. Besides, I am not going to run the riskof keeping them here. I can trust you, my good Cleon, as I can my ownbrother--in fact, when I come to think of it, a good deal more--yet I am notsure that I should have told you so much, but that the best of these aregoing to be packed off to-night. The fact is, they are sold already."
The Greek could only shrug his shoulders and say nothing. As my readerswill have perceived, he was not a man of high principles--in fact, to putthe matter
plainly, he was an unscrupulous adventurer. But the recklessvillainy of Menelaues fairly disgusted him. His taste, quite apart from anyquestion of principle or honesty, revolted at the notion that a man,placed as was the high priest of the Jewish people, should deal with thesehistoric treasures as a vulgar burglar might deal with them. This was arefinement of feeling into which the vulgar cupidity of Menelaues did notenter. He went on:
"How wild that scoundrel Jason would be, if he knew of this, to think thathe had lost such an opportunity, had these treasures in his hand, so tospeak, and leave them to his worst enemy!"
"Have you heard anything lately about him?" asked the Greek, not unwillingto change the subject.
"Oh, yes," replied Menelaues, "he is wandering about somewhere in thecountry of the Ammonites, and at his wits' end, I am told, how to live."
"Poor fellow!" said Cleon, _sotto voce_, "he was always very kind to me,and I can't help being sorry for him." He then went on aloud, "He willfind it a great change from his way of living here."
"Yes, yes!" said Menelaues; "but still, some of his old ways and habitswill come in usefully. He was always great about training, you remember.Every one should be ready to fight a boxing-match or run a race. Cold,hunger, fatigue; these, he used to say, are the things to bring out aman's muscles. And now he has got them in perfection. He might reallycarry off some prize, only, unluckily, he is getting a little too old forthat sort of thing. And then, you recollect, how he would go on about thebeauty of the human form. Clothes, especially the gorgeous clothes of ourpeople, obscured so tastelessly its magnificent proportions. Well, he hasnot much to complain of, I imagine, on that score. By the last accountthat I had of him he had as little in the way of clothing as a man couldwell have. Anyhow, he may console himself with thinking that _his_magnificent proportions are not obscured. Well, I don't pity him. A manwho has managed to get into a good place and then cannot stick to it isnothing better than a fool, and richly deserves everything that he mayget."
At this point in the conversation a servant announced the arrival of amessage from Sostratus, Governor of the Castle.
"All the gods and goddesses confound the man!" cried the high priest, in arage. He was fond of garnishing his conversation with a little Greekprofanity. "Another dunning message, I suppose. Well, he must wait. No mancan get any water by squeezing out of a dry sponge; and that is about whatI am!"
The communication from Sostratus proved, however, to be on quite anothersubject, though it was, if possible, even more unwelcome. It ran thus:--
"_Sostratus, Vicegerent of the Divine King, Antiochus, to Menelaues, the High Priest, greeting._
"Know that I have this day received the summons of the Divine King, Antiochus, to attend him at his court at Antioch, within the space of thirty days, there to inform his Highness more fully of affairs concerning his province of Judaea. Know also that your presence is required at the same place and time, whereof the writing herewith enclosed, being sealed with the King's seal, will be proof sufficient. Farewell."
Menelaues's face visibly lengthened as he read this epistle. "By the dog!"(this was a Socratic oath which he sometimes affected, as giving to hisconversation a certain philosophic tinge)--"By the dog! this is worse thanbeing dunned! I like not a journey to Antioch. A very pretty place, butexpensive, dreadfully expensive, especially when one has the honour ofbeing entertained by the King."
Cleon felt a certain pleasure in the high priest's discomfiture. The newpatron was more overbearing, less considerate, and generally moredifficult to get on with than the old. Jason, coxcomb as he was, hadalways been kind, and Cleon felt as kindly for him as it was in his natureto feel for any one. And then the exquisite propriety with which thisdisturbing news followed the man's taunts and boasts was irresistible.
"It is hard," he said, as if to himself, "when a man has got into a goodplace----"
Menelaues darted an angry look at his friend, but the Greek's face, whichhe knew how to keep under admirable control, expressed nothing butrespectful sympathy. There was an unpleasant suggestion of mockery in whathe had heard; but the Greek was a useful person; he had been trusted, too,and knew things which it would not do to have published. Altogether, thehigh priest concluded, it would not do to quarrel with him--anyhow, for thepresent; some day, perhaps, he might be got rid of.
"I suppose, sir, you cannot make an excuse--important affairs of State, theKing's service to be attended to, or something of that kind?"
Cleon made the suggestion, knowing perfectly well that it was quite out ofthe question. But he enjoyed the novel position of tormenting his patron,and was taking it out, so to speak, for not a few rudenesses and slights.
"Excuse!" cried Menelaues. "It would be as much as my head is worth to doanything of the kind. No! I must go. But this is not a journey which onecares to take empty-handed. Let me see what I can take--two or three of themost portable cups, as much coin as I can scrape together, and thejewels--jewels are always useful: it is so easy to hide them. Well, I shallleave you in charge; unless, indeed, you are very much set on goingyourself."
Cleon was not at all set upon going; on the contrary, nothing short of thestrongest inducements would have persuaded him to the journey. Going toAntioch was like putting one's head into the lion's mouth. There was noparticular reason, indeed, why _his_ head should be bitten off; but lionsare capricious, and sometimes use their teeth for the mere fun of thething.
"I am much obliged for the chance," he said, "but my health has beensuffering lately, and I do not feel quite equal to the journey."
"Well, then," replied Menelaues, "stop here, and keep things as straight asyou can. And if you can sell some of these pretty things for ready money,do so--the usual commission for yourself, of course. But it must all bekept quiet."
The next day the high priest and the Governor, neither of them in verygood spirits, were on their way to Antioch.
The Hammer: A Story of the Maccabean Times Page 4