King Jesus (Penguin Modern Classics) (14 page)

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evening a maid-servant knocked softly at the door of Elizabeth’s boudoir where she sat at her needlework.

“A young woman, a stranger, desires the honour of greeting your ladyship.”

“I am not receiving guests to-day.”

“Your servants told the young woman so, but she persists in her request.”

“Who is this importunate person ?”

“She will not reveal her name or family.”

“Who brought her here ?”

“She came under escort of a party of tented Rechabites who rode off at once on their asses in a cloud of dust.”

“Rechabites, did you say? What were her words as she entered our gate ?”

“She said : ‘In the name of the Mother.’ ”

Elizabeth grew angry. “You granddaughter of a camel, why did you not tell me so at once? Has the lady eaten? Have you washed her feet? Oh, you wretches! Bring water and a basin at once, bring soap and a linen towel. Bring food, the best in the house. Bring sweet wine. Make no delay.” Elizabeth threw down her tambour-frame and hurried out.

Soon she returned, leading a young woman by the hand, to whom she said solemnly, as she shut the door : “In the name of the Mother, this house is your house and these servants are your servants, whoever you may be, and whatever your business.”

For reply, the young woman unveiled with a rapid movement of her arm, kissed Elizabeth on both cheeks and began to weep silently.

Elizabeth cried in astonishment : “Can it be? Can it truly be? It is
the face of my sister Hannah when she was a child. The same sea-green eyes, straight nose, courageous chin. Child, you are Hannah’s daughter ?”

Mary nodded, dashing away the tears with her fingers.

“Why do you weep ?”

“For joy to be safely under your roof.”

Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Hurry, sluts, hurry, as if wolves were at your heels !”

They came running in helter-skelter, one with warm water in a silver ewer ; another with a silver basin embossed with an interlace of fish, perfumed soap and an embroidered towel ; another with a great brass tray covered with little platters of relishes—sweet pickles, olives, herb-benjamin, cucumber—arranged around a brace of cold roast pigeons stuffed with savoury herbs and garnished with Cos lettuce. Elizabeth sliced the fine wheat loaf for Mary and spread it with conserve of quince. She asked her servants over her shoulder : “Where are the Jericho dates? And the honey-figs soaked in Cyprus wine ?”

“They are coming, Mistress! Here they are, coming behind us. And a flagon of sweet wine of Lebanon !”

“Now, begone, children! I will wash this lady’s feet myself.”

They stared and retired in silence.

Elizabeth put her hand affectionately under Mary’s chin and tilted her face to look at it more closely.

“You look faint with hunger, daughter,” she said. “Here is water for your hands. Eat and drink, why do you hesitate? I will be washing your feet meanwhile.”

Mary smiled as she answered : “Soap is unknown in the black tents of the Rechabites. A kindly folk, but filthy in their habits. Before I eat, give me leave to enjoy the luxury of dabbling my fingers a while in this basin of soft warm water.”

“Your dear mother was the same : she would not be hurried.”

Mary ate and drank well. When she had done she washed her hands again, wiped her mouth, gave thanks to the Lord, and sat silent.

Elizabeth waited for her to seak.

Mary said at last politely, noticing Elizabeth’s condition : “The Lord’s blessing on the fruit of your womb !”

Elizabeth answered : “When you kissed me, the babe inside me leaped for joy.”

“Is all well with my uncle, the lord Zacharias ?”

“All is well, except that he has been struck dumb, as you doubtless have heard. Yet dumbness is no great fault in a husband, and it keeps him from continually disputing vexatious points of the Law with his cronies—a habit that I have never learned to love. Zacharias knows the Law backwards and forwards and upside down and never fails to win the argument, though it is not always that he succeeds in convincing his opponent. Is all well with your dear mother and the learned Joachim ?”

“All was well at our last meeting. Three times a year they have always visited me, when they come up for the grand festivals.”

“Every year I plan to make the journey to Jerusalem, but somehow I never go. I cannot bear crowds. Tell me, when do they intend to redeem you and find you a husband? It is time enough now, and the redemption fee for a girl under the age of twenty is fixed at a mere ten shekels.”

“It was as a gift, not as a loan, that they offered me to the Lord ; which gave the High Priest the authority to bestow me in marriage. And so I was married.”

“Married! To whom? When? Why was I not invited to the wedding ?”

Mary was troubled. “The High Priest decided to betroth me to Joseph of Emmaus, who married your sister Abigail.” She added hurriedly : “I have been staying at Lysia’s house—your niece, I mean. Lysia has been very kind to me, kindness itself.”

“Joseph of Emmaus! What an extraordinary choice! He must be nearly seventy and has six grown children. Joseph, indeed! He is not rich. Nor learned. Nor influential. I remember that we girls all grimaced when he was chosen for Abigail ; but of course Abigail had a club foot and was not presentable in other respects.”

“He is a good man, so they say !”

“Oh yes, too good in a sense. Generous and pious to the point of simple-mindedness. Does he treat you well ?”

“I have never seen him.”

“But you said that you were married to him.”

“No, I did not say that.”

“But if you and he are betrothed, why does he not take you to his house? Why have you come running here like a fugitive ?”

Mary whispered : “Forgive me, Aunt, but I cannot tell you that.”

“Does ‘cannot’ mean that you are forbidden to tell me, or that you do not know ?”

Mary began to weep again. “Do not press me to answer, dear Aunt Elizabeth. Give me refuge and peace. Let nobody know that I am here. Nobody at all.”

Elizabeth was greatly puzzled. “Who sent you here to me under escort of the Sons of Rahab ?”

“It was Anna, daughter of Phanuel, our guardian mother.”

“A shrewd old lady. Tell me, does old Joseph know that you have come ?”

“I am not sure. And I do not think that he would greatly care if he did know.”

“Not care what has become of his betrothed wife ?” Elizabeth’s tone was indignant.

“I beg you not to question me,” cried Mary in alarm. “I will be your devoted servant, Aunt. I will lie on straw and eat husks, if need be, and serve you foot and hand, but I beg you not to question me. Already I have said too much.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I will restrain my curiosity, my dear, though
upon my word yours is a very extraordinary visit. But this I demand to know—are you in trouble? Are you running away from Jerusalem because you have committed some crime? At least you can tell me that.”

“As the Lord lives, I am not guilty of any crime !”

“Good. I asked only to know where I stand ; I should not have liked to compromise my poor Zacharias by harbouring a criminal without his knowledge, though of course a guest is a guest. And there are degrees of criminality. Every girl is liable to make a fool of herself, especially with men, and I should not have been harsh to you if you had done so. Well, that is all I needed to know. I am delighted to have you here as a companion during my confinement ; your presence, I hope, will keep me from losing my temper with the maids. Besides, I love your mother. She was my darling from the day that she was born until the day that marriage parted us. For her sake I will cosset you as tenderly as childless Roman matrons cosset their Indian marmosets.”

Mary smiled faintly. “But what will you tell my Uncle Zacharias ?”

“Nothing at all. What female companions I have with me in my inner apartments are no business of his. After all, I redeemed this estate from mortgage with my marriage gift. He would have lost all but for me. Do you play draughts? Are you skilled at embroidery? Do you play the lyre ?”

Mary answered modestly : “Our Temple education was thorough.”

“Good again! Tell me, daughter : what is the latest news from Jerusalem? What is happening at the Palace? Is Queen Doris still in favour? I know Doris well. Dora, which is her family seat, lies not far from here, and she was in residence there during her long exile from Court. Has Prince Antipater sailed for Rome yet ?”

Mary began to say something, but stopped and sat silent again.

“Why, come now, these are not close secrets too, are they ?”

Mary answered, as off-handedly as she could : “I know nothing about Queen Doris. Her son sailed from Caesarea a month ago.” She added in a rush : “But he is King Antipater now, co-ruler of the Jews with his father, not merel a prince.”

Elizabeth looked incredulous. “What? Are you sure ?”

“Am I sure of what? That he has sailed ?”

“That he has been made a colleague of his father’s.”

“Yes indeed. I was present when it was publicly announced in the Court of the Gentiles. The Levites blew a great many trumpets and everyone shouted ‘God save the King!’ ”

Elizabeth rose from the floor where they had been sitting cross-legged and began to walk about restlessly. “Now what in the world is the meaning of this new move on the board ?” she cried. “Are they anxious or alarmed about it at Jerusalem ?”

“Alarmed? Why should they be alarmed ?”

“You know King Herod’s reputation ?”

“I have heard many things spoken about him, both good and bad.”

“Fewer good than bad ?”

“Fewer by far, I grant you.”

“Does it not surprise everyone that Herod should have raised his son to this dignity? Is it thought consistent with his jealous and tyrannical disposition ?”

“I have not heard surprise expressed. King Antipater has never offended against his father in the least degree. Even those who have good excuse for hating the House of Herod confess that Antipater has given proof of a pious and noble nature. Besides, King Herod is growing old. I know little about these matters, but is it not natural that after his disappointment in the matter of the princes Alexander and Aristobulus he should lean on Antipater as on a staff that will never break and pierce his hands ?”

“You champion Antipater with pleasant warmth. It is lucky that your Uncle Zacharias is not with us to hear you. How he detests the Herodians !”

“But why should the people of Jerusalem be alarmed when Antipater is awarded a diadem ?”

“Because Herod in a generous mood is Herod in a dangerous mood. Your learned father Joachim made this remark to my husband and myself some years ago. Often since then we have verified its truth. By the by, have there been any more hauntings lately in the City ?”

“People still tell ridiculous stories of what has been seen or heard or dreamed. I pay no attention to them.”

“I take them seriously. Hauntings, whether real or imaginary, are usually the prelude to deeds of blood.”

“May the Lord avert them by his mercy !”

Elizabeth was puzzled. As she lay sleepless that night she went over the evening’s conversation in her mind. Mary had said that she was betrothed to Joseph, while admitting that Joseph possibly did not know and probably did not care where she might be. Surely Mary had not been lying? Her mother Hannah had never lied : evaded a question, yes, but never lied. And surely that absurdly upright old Joseph was not a man to treat Joachim’s daughter with scorn or disrespect? He was courteous to a fault : there was a story that he once sent a servant in pursuit of a guest who had robbed him of a silver flagon, to present him with the stopper, saying : “Sir, this also was part of my master’s gift to you.” Yet Joseph was a very odd choice for a husband. Old Joachim was exceedingly rich. Mary was his only child and would inherit everything.

Elizabeth began to wonder : had Mary been seduced by someone who either could not or would not marry her? Had the High Priest tried to fob her off in a hurry on old Joseph? Had Joseph, after paying the bride-money, become aware of the deception and, not wishing to father another man’s child, returned her quietly to the Temple? Had Anna then, to avoid a scandal, sent her down here, with the High Priest’s
connivance, under escort of the Rechabites? Mary, however, had sworn that she was innocent of any sin. Had she perhaps been violated?

Suddenly Elizabeth remembered that Mary had said at first that she was married. Not merely betrothed, but married! And afterwards she had distinguished the marriage from the betrothal. But a woman once married could not be betrothed unless the marriage had first been dissolved. Was this what she had meant? It did not seem likely. And had she said in so many words that she had been betrothed to Joseph? No, only that the High Priest had decided on the betrothal.

Elizabeth could not solve the problem but decided to let it cost her no more sleep. Perhaps Mary would give away the secret one day by a chance indiscretion.

Two pleasant months went by, and then Shelom of Rehoboth, a former confidential maid of Elizabeth’s, came to Ain-Rimmon from Jerusalem with her husband. Elizabeth had sent for her because of her skill as a midwife. A woman who first conceives at the age of thirty-six must be prepared for a difficult confinement.

Shelom was married to the son of a former steward of the estate. She brought a budget of news about troubles in Herod’s palace. “Yes, my lady, the whole City is disturbed, I am sorry to say. Nobody seems to know how it all began or how it is likely to end. My sister-in-law was saying, the day that we came away : ‘It is indecent. We might be living among the barbarous Parthians, not in God-fearing Jerusalem.’ She is an excitable woman, is my sister-in-law, but there are many like her in our quarter. It is the yells and screams from the Palace at night that disturb her. The eunuchs are worse than the women, the way they scream under torture : they have no pride of sex, I suppose.”

“It must be most unsettling, my dear Shelom. But you have yet to tell me what has happened ?”

I know nothing for certain and fear to earn Solomon’s reproof of babblers and tale-bearers. However, I will tell you what is said. The story begins with Jochebed, the wife of the King’s brother Pheroras. She comes from Bethany, you know ; her father was a travelling tree-grafter. I cannot speak from any personal knowledge, but my husband’s family call her the cunningest schemer in all Israel. ‘How Prince Pheroras ever came to marry a woman of such low birth,’ my husband says, ‘I do not know ; he must have been bewitched.’ However that may be, she formed a close league with the Pharisee nationalists. You remember how heavily King Herod fined them when they refused to take the oath of allegiance to the Emperor, and how obligingly Jochebed paid the fine? Well, some of them began prophesying, to please her, that the sceptre of Herod would pass to Pheroras and herself. Herod’s spies soon reported this prophecy to him and he ordered Pheroras to divorce her, but Pheroras refused to do so, saying that he would rather die. What made things worse was that Queen Doris is Jochebed’s closest friend, and King Antipater himself is intimate with Prince Pheroras, who was a generous uncle
to him while he was a private citizen. Then Salome, King Herod’s sister, took a hand in the game. Herod had been living on good terms with her since he married her off to his friend Alexas, the rich Philistine, who is reputedly one of the Lady Livia’s agents. She managed to prove to his satisfaction that the prophecy was bound up with some wild talk of a Messiah, and that behind the prophecy lay a plot against his life in which the royal Chamberlain Bagoas was implicated. So he arrested everyone whom she named.”