Ben Hur by Lew Wallace (best romance ebooks TXT) 📕

“And Isis waited, saying to herself, ‘Poor creature! He is more wretched than ever.’

“And, as if he heard the thought, Osiris stirred, and the noise of his will shook the universe; the sun in its central seat alone stood firm. And Isis looked, but saw no change; then while she was smiling, assured that her lord’s last invention was sped, suddenly the creature arose, and seemed to listen; and his face brightened, and he clapped his hands for joy, for Sounds were heard the first time on earth⁠—sounds dissonant, sounds harmonious. The winds murmured in the trees; the birds sang, each kind a song of its own, or chattered in speech; the rivulets running to the rivers became so many harpers with harps of silver strings all tinkling together; and the rivers running to the seas surged on in solemn accord, while the seas beat the land to a tune of thunder. There was music, music everywhere, and all the time; so the man could not but be happy.

“Then Isis mused, thinking how well, how wondrous well, her lord was doing; but presently she shook her head: Color, Motion, Sound⁠—and she repeated them slowly⁠—there was no element else of beauty except Form and Light, and to them the earth had been born. Now, indeed, Osiris was done; and if the creature should again fall off into wretchedness, her help must be asked; and her fingers flew⁠—two, three, five, even ten stitches she took at once.

“And the man was happy a long time⁠—longer than ever before; it seemed, indeed, he would never tire again. But Isis knew better; and she waited and waited, nor minded the many laughs flung at her from the sun; she waited and waited, and at last saw signs of the end. Sounds became familiar to him, and in their range, from the chirruping of the cricket under the roses to the roar of the seas and the bellow of the clouds in storm, there was not anything unusual. And he pined and sickened, and sought his place of moping by the river, and at last fell down motionless.

“Then Isis in pity spoke.

“ ‘My lord,’ she said, ‘the creature is dying.’

“But Osiris, though seeing it all, held his peace; he could do no more.

“ ‘Shall I help him?’ she asked.

“Osiris was too proud to speak.

“Then Isis took the last stitch in her knitting, and gathering her work in a roll of brilliance flung it off⁠—flung it so it fell close to the man. And he, hearing the sound of the fall so near by, looked up, and lo! a Woman⁠—the First Woman⁠—was stooping to help him! She reached a hand to him; he caught it and arose; and nevermore was miserable, but evermore happy.”

“Such, O son of Hur! is the genesis of the beautiful, as they tell it on the Nile.”

She paused.

“A pretty invention, and cunning,” he said, directly; “but it is imperfect. What did Osiris afterwards?”

“Oh yes,” she replied. “He called the Divine Wife back to the sun, and they went on all pleasantly together, each helping the other.”

“And shall I not do as the first man?”

He carried the hand resting upon his neck to his lips. “In love⁠—in love!” he said.

His head dropped softly into her lap.

“You will find the King,” she said, placing her other hand caressingly upon his head. “You will go on and find the King and serve him. With your sword you will earn his richest gifts; and his best soldier will be my hero.”

He turned his face, and saw hers close above. In all the sky there was that moment nothing so bright to him as her eyes, enshadowed though they were. Presently he sat up, and put his arms about her, and kissed her passionately, saying, “O Egypt, Egypt! If the King has crowns in gift, one shall be mine; and I will bring it and put it here over the place my lips have marked. You shall be a queen⁠—my queen⁠—no one more beautiful! And we will be ever, ever so happy!”

“And you will tell me everything, and let me help you in all?” she said, kissing him in return.

The question chilled his fervor.

“Is it not enough that I love you?” he asked.

“Perfect love means perfect faith,” she replied. “But never mind⁠—you will know me better.”

She took her hand from him and arose.

“You are cruel,” he said.

Moving away, she stopped by the camel, and touched its front face with her lips.

“O thou noblest of thy kind!⁠—that, because there is no suspicion in thy love.”

An instant, and she was gone.

The third day of the journey the party nooned by the river Jabbok, where there were a hundred or more men, mostly of Peraea, resting themselves and their beasts. Hardly had they dismounted, before a man came to them with a pitcher of water and a bowl, and offered them drink; as they received the attention with much courtesy, he said, looking at the camel, “I am returning from the Jordan, where just now there are many people from distant parts, travelling as you are, illustrious friend; but they had none of them the equal of your servant here. A very noble animal. May I ask of what breed he is sprung?”

Balthasar answered, and sought his rest; but Ben-Hur, more curious, took up the remark.

“At what place on the river are the people?” he asked.

“At Bethabara.”

“It used to be a lonesome ford,” said Ben-Hur. “I cannot understand how it can have become of such interest.”

“I see,” the stranger replied; “you, too, are from abroad, and have not heard the good tidings.”

“What tidings?”

“Well, a man has appeared out of the wilderness⁠—a very holy man⁠—with his mouth full of strange words, which take hold of all who hear them. He calls himself John the Nazarite, son of Zacharias, and says he is the messenger sent before the Messiah.”

Even