II
THE SANCTUARY OF ISTAR
The temple of the Lady of Erech,[6] in Babylon, was the smallest of theeight temples consecrated to the worship of the twelve great gods. Thistemple contained but three parts--the entrance hall, the great hall ofthe sacrifice, and, at the farthest end of this room, the inmost shrine,or holy of holies, where the statue of the god was generally kept.Besides these, there were half a dozen little places, hardly more thanniches, where the priestesses and hierodules could don sacrificialgarments. At the end of the great hall, in front of the rich curtainthat hid the door of the inmost shrine, and behind the sacrificial altarand the table for shew-bread, was the Parakhu, or mercy-seat, from whichthe god, generally in spirit, it was thought, was accustomed to hear andanswer the prayers of his worshippers, to perform miracles of healing,and to accept offerings. Here, each day, Istar was accustomed to sit foran hour, hearing many plaints, listening to many woes, learning much ofthe piteous side of the lives of men and women of the world. And fromthis place Istar had delivered many an oracle. Here, too, she cogitatedpainfully over the sins of mankind, which were all incomprehensible toher. She, who was alone of her race on earth, sorrowed most over theloneliness of others--those that mourned a friend dead, a lover lost, achild in far-off lands--because this grief she could in some measureunderstand. But though the face of the goddess was always sad when sheleft the mercy-seat, the brilliance of her aureole was more bewilderingthan ever, for pity quickened her divinity continually to fresh life.
Behind the temple of worship was the building in which Istar dwelt. Itwas a little labyrinth of small, open courts and narrow, dimly lightedrooms. Nearer to the dwelling-place than to the temple, on the sameplatform with them both, was the ziggurat--that most characteristicfeature of Babylonian architecture. On top of it, in the centre of thespace used by astronomers and astrologers attached to the temple, wasthe little room devoted to the person of the goddess. It was here thatshe was supposed to sleep by night when wearied with the labors of thelong day. Istar's chamber on her ziggurat was rendered almostunapproachably sacred by the fact that here she had first been found;here she was supposed to have undergone her incarnation; and probablyhere she would resume intangibility, when her period of life on earthwas over. In point of fact Istar was devoted to this little place.During the hot summer months she generally stayed within it from sunsetto dawn, perhaps asleep, perhaps fled in spirit to other regions. Theplace had been fitted up with incredible costliness, and was kept inscrupulous order by servants consecrated especially for the work, whoentered it only at stated periods when its mistress was absent.
On her return from the long ceremonials attendant on the sacrifice toNebo and Nergal, Istar went to the mercy-seat at once, for it was pasther accustomed hour. There were few suppliants for pity to-day. Babylonhad just propitiated two of its great gods with a wholesale slaughter ofanimals, and the people doubtless felt that for a day, at least, theymight rest from the continual round of religious duties, relyingmeantime on the newly invigorated power of Nebo and Nergal to protectthem from the legions of hellish and earthly demons that beset life withsuch innumerable ills.
Istar's hour was not long to her. Her thoughts were centred onCharmides, his young, sunny presence, and the light of wonder andworship in his face when she had spoken to him. She had seen that hecarried his lyre with him; and she dreamed of the day when he shouldcome before her and sing as none other but Allaraine could sing.Meantime his face was before her and would not be banished, although inthe shadows before the altar stood another man whose presence had longbeen part of her surroundings, towards whom she felt--if indeed she feltat all--as towards no other human being; whose whole presence was asperfect a contrast to that of Charmides as could well be imagined. Itwas Belshazzar, who, since matters of government did not much hold him,had, in the last months become Istar's shadow. He lingered about thetemple whenever she was there; he followed her over the city in hischariot when she went abroad; at sunset he ascended the ziggurat, tostand outside the curtained door of her sanctuary, unable to see her,but feeling her presence. When she was near him his eyes were not alwaysupon her, yet her slightest movement never escaped him. And at suchtimes a kind of divinity--a reflection, perhaps, from her--was thrownabout him, till it had once or twice been said that the prince, like hisgoddess, moved in a silver cloud. Whether or not it was possiblethat Belshazzar--Belshazzar the tyrannical, the dissolute, thefierce-tempered--had by dint of will-power and persistence been able topierce the veil that hid Istar secure from all mortal eyes, it would beimpossible to tell. Istar herself did not know. But now, as many timesbefore, she wondered vaguely if her unearthly powers would or would nothold her from the understanding of this unholy man.
The mercy hour over, two attendant ukhatu approached her with thepurifying water and her white garment for the evening. Istar washed awayfrom her own person the sins and sorrows of her suppliants, suffered therobe to be laid over her shoulders, and then sent away the women,forbidding the temple to be lighted till she was gone from it, andcommanding the dismissal of the two that prayed near the basin of thesea. So, presently, she was alone in the vast, shadowy room withBelshazzar, who still stood, silent, immovable, arms folded, headslightly bent, beside the shew-table, his storm-blue eyes fixed in aside glance on her face.
Istar rose and descended from the high place, and then moved slowly inher floating way to Belshazzar's side. There, a few inches from him, shehalted, and, putting forth her hand, laid it lightly on his arm.
A tremor of intense feeling shot through him. He shook for a moment aswith palsy. Then, raising both hands in the attitude of prayer, heuttered the one word--"Belit!"
Istar regarded him with a kind of curiosity. "Bel-shar-utsur," she said,lingeringly, with a suggestion of hesitation. Again the prince trembled."Bel-shar-utsur--wilt thou follow me?"
"To the kingdom of Lillat, if my goddess asks," he answered, quickly, ina maze of confused delight.
The light of her divinity burned brighter round the figure of thegoddess, and she made a slight gesture for the man to walk beside her.He obeyed with an eagerness that was tempered by a peculiar,half-resisted reluctance which Istar perceived but did not understand;for the soul of this majestic body was unknown, utterly unknown to her.
Together, however, they left the temple and passed across the desertedplatform, which was still flooded with sunlight, till they reached thefoot of the ziggurat. Here Belshazzar halted with a quick breath and aninaudible exclamation. Istar, turning a little towards him, gave him awondering glance.
"You fear?" she asked, hardly knowing how to voice her idea.
And Belshazzar, he who had in his youth, in pursuance of amusement, swumthe Euphrates lashed to the back of a wounded crocodile, now raised hishands again, saying imploringly: "O Belit!--I fear!"
"And what? Is it I?"
He bent his head.
"Belshazzar--come thou and teach me."
"Teach--you!"
"Yea, for there is much that I must know. There, on the ziggurat, wherethe air is sweet, where we shall be nearer the silver sky, thou shaltlearn the purpose of my earth-life, and shalt tell me how to attain it;for I of myself know not the way. Come."
This time Belshazzar obeyed the command without hesitation, silently.Together they made the ascent of the broad, inclined plane that woundround and round up the tower. The man's steps were swinging andvigorous; yet, walk as rapidly as he would, the goddess kept always alittle ahead of him though she made neither effort nor motion, exceptthat now and then she touched her feet lightly to the bricks. At thetop, opening from the broad gallery that ran round the building of thetower, was the low door-way that gave entrance to the holy of holies,Istar's shrine. There was no one on the height to-day, though ordinarilyat this hour several ascended the ziggurat to watch the ascent of thegoddess. Rejoicing in the solitude, Istar leaned over the south parapetof the wall, and looked out upon the light-flooded city, whileBelshazzar, in a dream, waited at her shoulder. Aft
er a little while sheturned, and, pushing aside the leathern curtain that hung across thedoor, conducted the prince over the threshold of the sacred place.
It was a wonderful room. At the time of the coming of Istar, indeed, allBabylon had contributed to its adorning. Not more than ten feet squarewas the little place, yet so did it glisten and shine with the lustre ofclear gems and burnished gold, that it seemed to contain unfathomabledepths, and to be imbued with something of the divine radiance of itsmistress. The couch in it, like the walls, was covered with plates ofbeaten gold, and piled high with the softest and costliest stuffs fromthe famous Babylonian looms. The throne and the two chairs, ortabourets, were of Indian ebony, inlaid with ivory; and the table anddeep basin for water were of chased silver, worked with crystals andemeralds. All the daylight that could enter this room must come throughthe arched door-way; but a swinging-lamp of wrought gold, hanging in thecentre of the little place, burned continually, night and day, and sheda dim effulgence over everything.
When this interior was first revealed to him, Belshazzar halted where hestood, gazing around with self-contained pleasure till Istar, seatingherself on the great chair that was her throne, motioned him to one ofthe lower seats. Belshazzar sat in her presence, and a silence fellbetween them: a silence that the prince could not have broken had hislife been at stake. Istar, looking from her place out through thedoor-way into the tower-tipped sky, seeming not to feel in the slightestthe great discomfort of her guest, finally said, softly:
"Belshazzar, from thy heart, tell me, what are thy gods?"
The man looked at her in quick amazement. For an instant he was about tospeak on impulse. Then he resisted; and when he did make answer thereply was conventional. "Thou, Istar, art my goddess. Babylon is mineonly god."
"That last thou hast said well. Yet it, too, is a false god."
"But thou, O Istar, I know--"
"I am no goddess, Belti-shar-utsur."
The prince started nervously to his feet. "You are not mortal?"
"No. I think, indeed, that I am not. Yet I am not sure. You came toearth a baby, born of woman--is it not so?"
"Like all men."
"And I descended from the highest void through space, till I touchedearth almost upon this spot, a woman as I am now, clothed in my silvergarment. It was by the command of god, the great Bel, the One, the True,that I came hither from the upper realms of the great kingdom. I waswhat they call archetype. I was decreed to pass through the fire of theworld and return not to my home till the hearts of men were bare beforemy eyes, till I learned the secret of the creation. Yet how these thingsare to be shown to me I do not know. Thy heart, O Belshazzar--what isit?"
"It is thine, Lady of All."
"Open it to me that I may read."
The pleading simplicity of the tone made Belshazzar look at her sharply,and in a new way. Still his eyes failed to pierce the wave of bafflinglight that flowed about her; and still her purpose was enigmatical tohim. She had become more incomprehensible than ever.
"The hearts of men, Istar, are not always known to themselves. Mine Icould not show you."
Istar thought for a little while in troubled silence. Then she askedonce more, not hopefully: "Your loves and hates, your joys and sorrows,your hopes and fears--knowing these, could I not understand them andyou?"
"It may be. I do not know."
"Then let me hear, that I may judge."
"All of them, Istar--love, hate, hope, fear, joy, sorrow--are wovenaround my city, Babylon, the gate of god. My love is for her and my fearfor her enemies. As she is the greatest of all cities, so is she themost loved and the most hated. In her lie all my joy and sorrow. In herdwell many that I love, some that I hate, one that I fear. But this--"
"This will not open to me your secret heart, Belshazzar. It is anaffectation."
"By the power of the twelve great gods--it is not!"
"Then there are two lives in you: this one, and another that is hidden."
Belshazzar looked at her again strangely. "It is true," he said, atlength, a curious smile curving his lips.
"It is of this second life that you must tell me."
"I cannot!" he said, quickly.
"Wherefore?"
"It is too ignoble for your ears."
"Too ignoble? What should be that for me? Nay, prince of the city, myearth-life is weary and long, because that I am kept away from life. Iam set apart, worshipped as one afar off, and true life is not laidbefore me. To teach your race the secret of the one god is forbidden. Itis I that come hither to learn; yet I am given no way of learning. Whatam I? Whither am I to go, that I may learn truth from the hearts ofmen?"
"Hearts, Divine One, may read each other. But no immortal that cannotfeel the world may understand them."
"Let me, then, become mortal, O God!"
The cry rang out louder than it had been spoken, and seemed to echoforth, to vibrate through the room, to flow out and away into thedistant sky. The two in the sanctuary listened to it in silence,wondering. Then Istar, tremulous, and wavering with light, arose.
"Leave me, Belshazzar!" she cried, suddenly. "Leave me alone here! Ifear you!"
"Fear me?" He spoke softly, taking the attitude of prayer. "You are thegoddess of Babylon. It is I that fear. I beseech thee, lady, spare methy wrath. As a reed shalt thou bend me. As a twig shall I be brokenbefore the strength of thy will. Divine One, grant me favor! Lady Belit,have pity upon my mortality!"
As he spoke she stood looking at him, shrinkingly, uncertainly, tryingto fathom the false ring of the conventional phrases. His attitude, hisexpression, his demeanor, were perfectly sincere; yet, whether hehimself were conscious of it or not, the words were not honest. Sheperceived it instantly. After the little pause of thought she repeated,faintly:
"Depart from me!" adding, afterwards, "You mock at me."
The prince drew a quick breath that sounded like a gasp. Then, comingforward, he sank to his knees, took the hem of her fiery garment, andheld it for a moment to his lips. Its flame did not harm. Rather, itsent through his whole being a shock of vitality. Rising hurriedly afterthe obeisance, he inclined himself again before her and swept away, asshe had commanded, leaving her alone in her sanctuary.
Istar remained where he left her, lying back in the chair, one handsupporting her cheek, her thoughts chaotic and troubled as never before.For many months past she had felt, vaguely, that which had justdefinitely come home to her. Her time on earth was passing uselesslyaway. She was now no closer to mankind than she had been before herdescent. She was treated with such reverent awe as utterly precludedanything like familiar intercourse with any one. The very prayers wereaddressed to her in terms as florid and as general as possible. Herpersonal attendants performed their duties in silent reverence. Thepriesthood treated her with the impenetrable respect that they showedtowards the graven images of the gods. And now, for the first time, thesignificance of all these things came to her definitely. She perceivedhow they were baffling her purpose, and the thought caused her deepdisquiet. There seemed to be but one way of opening life to her immortalvision. It was through the person of Belshazzar, who dared, before her,to keep his individuality. This way, however, as she had told him, shefeared. What the fear was, when it had come or why, who could tell? NotIstar. Now, for so long a time the prince had been part of herwearisome, objective existence that, up to to-night, she had been moreinclined to regard him as something spiritual than as a man. Mentallyshe reviewed him and his personality, and she found therein much thatwas beyond her undeveloped powers of appreciation and analysis. His deepeyes--how was it that they looked on her? She had not seemed to him soawe-inspiring a thing as others found her. Why? His continual presencebefore her--was it all from a sense of pure religion? Yet, if it werenot, what was the motive? Istar did not, could not, know. He did notpray to her--quite. His attitude was peculiar--distant--reverent--yet attimes there was something other than reverence in his face. What itwas--the look that seemed to burn through her veil--Istar
could nottell. Yet it was that look that had made her fear.
How long she sat, passive and quiet-browed within her sanctuary,thinking of these many things, she did not know. But when finally shestraightened, the clouds in the east were pink with the reflected lightof the setting sun.
The sky was singularly beautiful to her. It held in its far depths themystery of her birth. She regarded it sometimes with yearning, sometimeswith an unfathomable wisdom held in her inmost being. Now the curtainhid it from her gaze, and, with an oppressive sadness in her heart, shecrossed to the door-way and lifted the curtain-folds, to encounter thepiercing gaze of a man who stood more than half-way across the sanctuarythreshold. Thin, pallid, hook-nosed, bearded, and wretchedly clothed, hestood over her radiant person and seemed to peer into her verysoul--this child of the West, Beltishazzar the Jew.
Istar gasped and shrank quickly back into the room, without letting goher hold on the curtain. Daniel pressed his advantage and intrudedfarther, till he also was inside. Her face was indistinguishable to him,for the light-waves had quickened protectively round her whole body,till she swam in glory. Seemingly unabashed, the Jew addressed her:
"Istar of Babylon, grant me an hour wherein I may hold speech withyou--here, or without--upon the ziggurat."
There was less of entreaty than of command in the tone; and Istar,unduly affected by the fanatical appearance of the man, put his presenceon a level with her own personality, and, replying to his speech inHebrew, his language, said:
"Then enter here, O Daniel, and I will listen to you."
"You know me!" he said, quickly.
"I know men's names."
"And their hearts?"
"Their hearts! You have said it! Their hearts! Oh, thou man ofJerusalem, canst thou give me knowledge as to them?"
He looked at her closely, as if to make sure of her meaning. Then,taking courage, he replied: "Men's hearts! Who, in truth, but Yaveh, theone God, shall know them?"
Istar made no answer to the question, but once more motioned the Jew toenter the faintly lighted room. This he did without hesitation.Thereupon she covered the door-way with its curtain, turned without anysign of haste, and seated herself once more on the high throne, but leftthe Jew to stand before her. Finally, before the words he had framedcould leave his lips, she swayed forward slightly and asked:
"What have you, the child of Yaveh, to gain from me?"
"Much--or nothing."
"It is no answer, Daniel."
Beltishazzar bent his head and folded his arms over his breast. So hestood for many minutes, silent and motionless, while Istar waitedserenely for him to speak; and, when he spoke, she was not startled byhis words and their blunt directness.
"Istar of Babylon, what are you--who are you? child of God, orinstrument of the devil?--archangel, as some say, or arch-fiend, as manythink? What is your mission in Babylon? Whence came you? Whither do yougo?"
Istar smiled. "Neither angel nor fiend am I, Beltishazzar, but archetypeof God's creation. I came from space. Into it, in time, I shall returnagain. My mission I have told you. I come to learn the hearts of men,their relationship to God."
As she ceased to speak she found Beltishazzar's eyes fixed upon her in alook so penetrating that it seemed impossible it should not pierce herveil. Presently, in the silence that followed, the Jew began to pace upand down the little room. He walked nervously. His brows were knitted,his shoulders drawn up, his head sunk between them in an abstractionthat Istar never thought of disturbing. When, at length, he looked up ather again, she found in him a new enthusiasm, a spirituality, anexaltation even, that gleamed like fire from his sunken eyes andincreased his unhealthy pallor till his skin was like that of a deadman.
"Istar," he began, in a voice low and tremulous with incipientpassion--"Istar, you have said it was from God that you came hither fromspace--you, a heavenly being, an archangel. God despatched you to earthfor an unknown purpose, a purpose that, in its fulness, hath not beenconfided to you, but is revealed unto me, the prophet of Nebuchadrezzar,the great king. Listen, and thou shalt feel the response of truth throbwithin thee at my words.
"Forty-and-seven years ago the holy city of Judah fell before theonslaught of the Babylonian king. Zedekiah and his race were takencaptive by the hands of the wicked, and were carried away into exile tothe city abhorred of God--Babylon, the queen of evil. Since then, insickness and sorrow, in captivity and death, our people have dwelt here,a piteous hunger for the promised land gnawing at their hearts, whileBabylon waxed great and strong in her wickedness off the fat of manycaptive lands and peoples. Long have we been without hope of salvation.But now Nebuchadrezzar, the fierce ruler, is dead many years since. Inhis kingdom are sown the seeds of dissension and strife, and, in theweakness of her strength, she shall reap bitter fruit. For Babylon, evenas Nineveh before her, must fall. At the hands of her captives shall thegreat city suffer destruction and death. Again in their strength theJews shall rise up and smite the tyrant down. And now, O Istar, hearthou the word of the Lord! In this great retribution it is thou thatshalt lead us, the chosen ones; thou that shalt win glory and honoramong us; thou that, as Moses from Egypt, shalt lead us out of Babyloniathrough the wilderness, back to the land of our fathers!"
He paused for an instant in the midst of his delight, to note the effectof his words on the woman--or angel. She sat before him radiant,wavering with light, motionless, unmoved, inscrutable, showing no desireto interrupt the flow of his words; rather, in her silence, urging himto greater heights. So he continued:
"For forty-and-seven years have we, the captives, dwelt in the land ofbondage; and in that time, even with the hand of God heavy upon us, haveacquired honor and riches in the country of our woe. Is it not a signthat God is with us--that he holds sacred that spot in which we dwell?Thou also art from Him! The end of our trial approaches! By night I hearthe voice of the Lord crying from the high places that thou art here asa sign of His protection. And I and thou are destined to lead thechildren of Jerusalem out of bondage. Mine is the hand that will strikedown the weak and faltering king of Babylon--Nabu-Nahid, the foolishone. At our hands priest and noble, citizen and soldier, yea, mother andinfant of this unholy people, shall be made to drink of their own blood.And for thee, O Istar, shall be reserved the triumph, the deed of dangerand of glory! For by thy hand, in stealth, when he shall come to worshipidolatrously at thy shrine, shalt thou strike to earth the monstertyrant of the city, Nabu-Nahid's son, the child of sin, Belshazzar! Nowbehold--"
"Thou infamous one!"
Daniel's rush of words suddenly ceased. He paused long enough, fullyenough, this time, to perceive and to understand the situation. Istar,trembling with anger and disgust, had risen from her place and toweredabove him like an archangel indeed. Through the blaze of light her twoeyes glowed like burning coals upon the insignificant creature coweringbelow her. Beyond her exclamation, Istar found no words to say. The twoconfronted each other in palpitating stillness, and as they stood,Daniel, inch by inch, began to regain his stature, and gradually to moveaway, backward, towards the door. When finally he had his shouldersagainst the leathern curtain, and knew his ability to effect a quickescape should it become necessary, he delivered himself of a finaloracle:
"Thou thing of evil, the Lord hath stripped from mine eyes the veil! Ibehold thee nourishing the serpent in thy bosom. Thy master, Satan,stands at thy right shoulder. Upon the other hand is Belshazzar, thyparamour. But I say unto you that the streets of Babylon shall run withthe tyrant's blood. There shall come a night when Babylon shall burstinto flames; when Nabonidus will be no more; when Belshazzar's lifeshall be taken by the hands of his own people; when thou, in mortalterror, shalt flee the city of thy wickedness; when the Jew shalltriumph over Bel, and the God of Judea lift up his sword in the heavens!Thus, in mine ear, sounds the mighty voice of the Lord!"
Then, with one baleful gesture, and a fiery glance of hatred from hisbright, black eyes, Daniel flung back the curtain of the sanctuary andslunk away, with his
usual gait, out into the twilight and down thewinding plane of the ziggurat.
For many minutes Istar remained as she had stood while listening to thelast words of the leader of the captive race. Her limbs trembled. Hereyes were dim. When presently she felt the cool breath of the eveningenvelop her, her senses swam. In the midst of it all, in the midst ofthat terrible vision that the Jew had conjured up before her, there wasone thing that stood out before all else, till the rest had lost allsignificance. Kill Belshazzar! _She_ kill Belshazzar! Over and over sherepeated it to herself, unable to understand why the horror of the merethought should be so great.
The swinging-lamp in the sanctuary mingled its dim, steady light withthat of the rosy evening. From far below, over the Great City, came thefaint hum of weary millions that had ceased from toil--a drowsy, restfulmurmur, suggestive of approaching sleep. The sound came gratefully toIstar's ears. Here were no battle-cries, no shouts of attack, no wailsof the dying. Beltishazzar surely lied. Nay, over her senses began tosteal a sensation of subtle delight, of exquisite content, of freedomfrom earth-weariness. The hum of the city was gradually replaced by along-drawn celestial chord, spun out and out with fainter, increasingvibrations, till it died away in the glow of unearthly light that wasgradually suffusing the room.
Istar gave one low cry of love and relief, and, moving from her strainedposition, lay down upon the soft couch in an attitude of expectancy andhappiness. Minute by minute the glow increased in brilliance till thelittle shrine palpitated with the fires of a midsummer sunset. Vapors ofgold, in hot, whirling eddies, floated from ceiling to floor. Theobjects in the room became indistinguishable, and the light was such asmust have struck mortal eyes blind. Gradually, in the meeting-point ofthe radiating light-streams, there became visible a darkly opaque shapeupon which Istar fixed her eyes. It became more and more definable.Suddenly, from the head, there flashed forth five points of diamondlight; and at the same instant Allaraine, star-crowned, emerged inmortal semblance from the melting glory. The moon-daughter rose from hercouch, and silently the two greeted each other, looking eye into eyewith all the companionship of divinity. While they stood thus, Allarainetouched his lyre, and the chords of the night-song of stillness andpeace spread through the room and out into the darkness beyond. Tomortal senses it was the essence of the summer day, with its fragranceand its passion, hanging still, by early night, over the land and thedrowsy city. But to immortal ears it was as the voice of God. Istardrank it in as a thirsty field receives the rivulets of irrigation. And,little by little, as the spell was woven to its close, the star-crownedone drew her towards the throne, on which he caused her to sit, himselffloating at a little distance.
"Allaraine! Allaraine! You bring again the breath of space, my home!"
"Yea, Istar!"
"And a half-mortal sadness looks upon me from your incarnate eyes."
"Beloved of the skies, I am troubled--troubled for you. It is as amessenger knowing little that I come to you from the great throne."
"What message? What message?"
"This: 'As immortal men are yet mortal, so shalt thou be. And by meansof pain, of sin, of death, and of love, shalt thou in the end knowmankind through thyself; and for thee will there be freedom of choice.'"
Measuredly, clearly, but unintelligently, Allaraine pronounced the wordsthat were to him a mystery; and Istar listened, wondering, a dimforeboding at her heart. After a long pause she spoke mechanically thetwo words:
"_Mortal! I!_"
"Mortal. Thou. Istar, the heavens mourn!"
"And why, Allaraine?"
"To see thee in pain, in sin, in death--"
Istar raised her hand. "Have peace! These are in the world, but they arenot all. There is something besides, that I have seen, yet that neitherI, nor thou, nor any of our kind can understand. Sweeter than all therest are hard, higher than sin is low, more joyful than death is sad,love reigns over men. Love is from the central fire of God, as we arebut its outer rays. Love walks through all the earth, passing to and froamong men, making them to forswear sin, to forget suffering, to overcomedeath. Those that love are happy in spite of all things. This much haveI learned on earth. And if mortality is decreed for me, I shall findlove with the rest. Fear not for me, for willingly I bow down inacceptance of suffering, of pain, of wandering in the maze of ignorance,for the sake of this thing that men know and that I cannot understand."
"And thou wilt gladly forget us?"
"Nay, Allaraine. In the long nights and troubled days, thou, as ever,wilt bring me comfort."
"Ah, Istar--that may not be."
"May not? I shall lose the music--the communion--"
"All things divine will be lost. You enter into the wilderness of theworld."
Istar bent her head and was silent. She who had seemed to understand somuch, realized nothing. At last, lifting her head heavily, she asked:"When does it come, this farewell to--my home?"
"Not until you, of your own will, renounce divinity."
"Not till I seek it? Nay, this very night I asked it of the Almighty."
"Yea, and the cry was heard. Mortality shall be yours whenever of yourown free will you renounce us all for that which mortality will give."
"Ah, then--then, immortal one--I shall remain the Narahmouna."[7]
Allaraine shook his head thoughtfully and said: "Of that I do not know.I have brought the message. Sleep, celestial woman. I go."
Obediently Istar lay down upon her couch, and the white eyelids closedover the unfathomable eyes. Allaraine, standing over her, looking downupon her mortal form with infinite pity, infinite ignorance, lifted uphis lyre once more, and, by the magic of his power, Istar's spiritquickly fled to the land of dreams. There Allaraine left her to awaitthe dawn of the new day, with its monotonous, wearying duties, and itsweight of dim, indefinable foreboding, that as yet was all of theearth-life of Narahmouna the divine.
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