Ben-Hur: A tale of the Christ
than any of those which went before.
“Child was she of a marriage between the North, bounded by the sea, and
the South, bounded by the desert beyond the Luna mountains; and one
gave her its passion, the other its genius; so when they beheld her,
both laughed, saying, not meanly, ‘She is mine,’ but generously, ‘Ha,
ha! she is ours.’
“All excellences in nature contributed to her perfection and rejoiced
in her presence. Did she come or go, the birds ruffled their wings in
greeting; the unruly winds sank to cooling zephyrs; the white lotus
rose from the water’s depth to look at her; the solemn river loitered
on its way; the palm-trees, nodding, shook all their plumes; and they
seemed to say, this one, I gave her of my grace; that, I gave her of my
brightness; the other, I gave her of my purity: and so each as it had a
virtue to give.
“At twelve, Ne-ne-hofra was the delight of Essouan; at sixteen, the
fame of her beauty was universal; at twenty, there was never a day
which did not bring to her door princes of the desert on swift camels,
and lords of Egypt in gilded barges; and, going away disconsolate, they
reported everywhere, ‘I have seen her, and she is not a woman, but
Athor herself.’”
III.
“Now of the three hundred and thirty successors of good King Menes,
eighteen were Ethiopians, of whom Oraetes was one hundred and ten years
old. He had reigned seventy-six years. Under him the people thrived,
and the land groaned with fatness of plenty. He practised wisdom
because, having seen so much, he knew what it was. He dwelt in Memphis,
having there his principal palace, his arsenals, and his
treasure-house. Frequently he went down to Butos to talk with Latona.
“The wife of the good king died. Too old was she for perfect
embalmment; yet he loved her, and mourned as the inconsolable; seeing
which, a colchyte presumed one day to speak to him.
“‘O Oraetes, I am astonished that one so wise and great should not know
how to cure a sorrow like this.’
“‘Tell me a cure,’ said the king.
“Three times the colchyte kissed the floor, and then he replied,
knowing the dead could not hear him, ‘At Essouan lives Ne-ne-hofra,
beautiful as Athor the beautiful. Send for her. She has refused all the
lords and princes, and I know not how many kings; but who can say no to
Oraetes?’”
IV.
“Ne-ne-hofra descended the Nile in a barge richer than any ever before
seen, attended by an army in barges each but a little less fine. All
Nubia and Egypt, and a myriad from Libya, and a host of Troglodytes,
and not a few Macrobii from beyond the Mountains of the Moon, lined the
tented shores to see the cortege pass, wafted by perfumed winds and
golden oars.
“Through a dromos of sphinxes and couchant double-winged lions she was
borne, and set down before Oraetes sitting on a throne specially
erected at the sculptured pylon of the palace. He raised her up, gave
her place by his side, clasped the uraeus upon her arm, kissed her, and
Ne-ne-hofra was queen of all queens.
“That was not enough for the wise Oraetes; he wanted love, and a queen
happy in his love. So he dealt with her tenderly, showing her his
possessions, cities, palaces, people; his armies, his ships: and with
his own hand he led her through his treasure-house, saying, ‘O.
Ne-ne-hofra! but kiss me in love, and they are all thine.’
“And, thinking she could be happy, if she was not then, she kissed him
once, twice, thrice—kissed him thrice, his hundred and ten years
notwithstanding.
“The first year she was happy, and it was very short; the third year
she was wretched, and it was very long; then she was enlightened: that
which she thought love of Oraetes was only daze of his power. Well for
her had the daze endured! Her spirits deserted her; she had long spells
of tears, and her women could not remember when they heard her laugh;
of the roses on her cheeks only ashes remained; she languished and
faded gradually, but certainly. Some said she was haunted by the
Erinnyes for cruelty to a lover; others, that she was stricken by some
god envious of Oraetes. Whatever the cause of her decline, the charms
of the magicians availed not to restore her, and the prescript of the
doctor was equally without virtue. Ne-ne-hofra was given over to die.
“Oraetes chose a crypt for her up in the tombs of the queens; and,
calling the master sculptors and painters to Memphis, he set them to
work upon designs more elaborate than any even in the great galleries
of the dead kings.
“‘O thou beautiful as Athor herself, my queen!’ said the king, whose
hundred and thirteen years did not lessen his ardor as a lover, ‘Tell
me, I pray, the ailment of which, alas! thou art so certainly perishing
before my eyes.’
“‘You will not love me any more if I tell you,’ she said, in doubt and
fear.
“‘Not love you! I will love you the more. I swear it, by the genii of
Amente! by the eye of Osiris, I swear it! Speak!’ he cried, passionate
as a lover, authoritative as a king.
“‘Hear, then,’ she said. ‘There is an anchorite, the oldest and holiest
of his class, in a cave near Essouan. His name is Menopha. He was my
teacher and guardian. Send for him, O Oraetes, and he will tell you
that you seek to know; he will also help you find the cure for my
affliction.’
“Oraetes arose rejoicing. He went away in spirit a hundred years
younger than when he came.”
V.
“‘Speak!’ said Oraetes to Menopha, in the palace at Memphis.
“And Menopha replied, ‘Most mighty king, if you were young, I should
not answer, because I am yet pleased with life; as it is, I will say
the queen, like any other mortal, is paying the penalty of a crime.’
“‘A crime!’ exclaimed Oraetes, angrily.
“Menopha bowed very low.
“‘Yes; to herself.’
“‘I am not in mood for riddles,’ said the king.
“‘What I say is not a riddle, as you shall hear. Ne-ne-hofra grew up
under my eyes, and confided every incident of her life to me; among
others, that she loved the son of her father’s gardener, Barbec by
name.’
“Oraetes’s frown, strangely enough, began to dissipate.
“‘With that love in her heart, O king, she came to you; of that love
she is dying.’
“‘Where is the gardener’s son now?’ asked Oraetes.
“‘In Essouan.’
“The king went out and gave two orders. To one oeris he said, ‘Go to
Essouan and bring hither a youth named Barbec. You will find him in the
garden of the queen’s father;’ to another, ‘Assemble workmen and cattle
and tools, and construct for me in Lake Chemmis an island, which,
though laden with a temple, a palace, and a garden, and all manner of
trees bearing fruit, and all manner of vines, shall nevertheless float
about as the winds may blow it. Make the island, and let it be fully
furnished by the time the moon begins to wane.’
“Then to the queen he said,
“‘Be of cheer. I know all, and have sent for Barbec.’
“Ne-ne-hofra kissed his hands.
“‘You shall have him to yourself, and he you to himself; nor shall any
disturb your loves for a year.’
“She kissed his feet; he raised her, and kissed her in return; and the
rose came back to her cheek, the scarlet to her lips, and the laughter
to her heart.”
VI.
“For one year Ne-ne-hofra and Barbec the gardener floated as the winds
blew on the island of Chemmis, which became one of the wonders of the
world; never a home of love more beautiful; one year, seeing no one and
existing for no one but themselves. Then she returned in state to the
palace in Memphis.
“‘Now whom lovest thou best?’ asked the king.
“She kissed his cheek and said, ‘Take me back, O good king, for I am
cured.’
“Oraetes laughed, none the worse, that moment, of his hundred and
fourteen years.
“‘Then it is true, as Menopha said: ha, ha, ha! it is true, the cure of
love is love.’
“‘Even so,’ she replied.
“Suddenly his manner changed, and his look became terrible.
“‘I did not find it so,’ he said.
“She shrank affrighted.
“‘Thou guilty!’ he continued. ‘Thy offense to Oraetes the man he
forgives; but thy offence to Oraetes the king remains to be punished.’
“She cast herself at his feet.
“‘Hush!’ he cried. ‘Thou art dead!’
“He clapped his hands, and a terrible procession came in—a procession
of parachistes, or embalmers, each with some implement or material of
his loathsome art.
“The King pointed to Ne-ne-hofra.
“‘She is dead. Do thy work well.’”
VII.
“Ne-ne-hofra the beautiful, after seventy-two days, was carried to the
crypt chosen for her the year before, and laid with her queenly
predecessors; yet there was no funeral procession in her honor across
the sacred lake.”
At the conclusion of the story, Ben-Hur was sitting at the Egyptian’s
feet, and her hand upon the tiller was covered by his hand.
“Menopha was wrong,” he said.
“How?”
“Love lives by loving.”
“Then there is no cure for it?”
“Yes. Oraetes found the cure.”
“What was it?”
“Death.”
“You are a good listener, O son of Arrius.”
And so with conversation and stories, they whiled the hours away. As
they stepped ashore, she said,
“To-morrow we go to the city.”
“But you will be at the games?” he asked.
“Oh yes.”
“I will send you my colors.”
With that they separated.
CHAPTER IV
Ilderim returned to the dowar next day about the third hour. As he
dismounted, a man whom he recognized as of his own tribe came to him
and said, “O sheik, I was bidden give thee this package, with request
that thou read it at once. If there be answer, I was to wait thy
pleasure.”
Ilderim gave the package immediate attention. The seal was already
broken. The address ran, _To Valerius Gratus at Cæsarea_.
“Abaddon take him!” growled the sheik, at discovering a letter in
Latin.
Had the missive been in Greek or Arabic, he could have read it; as it
was, the utmost he could make out was the signature in bold Roman
letters—MESSALA—whereat his eyes twinkled.
“Where is the young Jew?” he asked.
“In the field with the horses,” a servant replied.
The sheik replaced the papyrus in its envelopes, and, tucking the
package under his girdle, remounted the horse. That moment a stranger
made his appearance, coming, apparently, from the city.
“I am looking for Sheik Ilderim, surnamed the Generous,” the stranger
said.
His language and attire bespoke him a Roman.
What he could not read, he yet could speak; so the old Arab answered,
with dignity, “I am Sheik Ilderim.”
The man’s eyes fell; he raised them again, and said, with forced
composure, “I heard you had need of a driver for the games.”
Ilderim’s lip under the white mustache curled contemptuously.
“Go thy way,” he said. “I have a driver.”
He turned to ride away, but the man, lingering, spoke again.
“Sheik, I am a lover of horses, and they say you have the most
beautiful in the world.”
The old man was touched; he drew rein, as if on the point of yielding
to the flattery, but finally replied, “Not to-day, not to-day; some
other time I will show them to you. I am too busy just now.”
He rode to the field, while the stranger betook himself to town again
with a smiling countenance. He had accomplished his mission.
And every day thereafter, down to the great day of the games, a
man—sometimes two or three men—came to the sheik at the Orchard,
pretending to seek an engagement as driver.
In such manner Messala kept watch over Ben-Hur.
CHAPTER V
The sheik waited, well satisfied, until Ben-Hur drew his horses off the
field for the forenoon—well satisfied, for he had seen them, after
being put through all the other paces, run full speed in such manner
that it did not seem there were one the slowest and another the
fastest—run in other words, as if the four were one.
“This afternoon, O sheik, I will give Sirius back to you.” Ben-Hur