skin of her body.

"Tell me, who art thou?" she says slowly, in perplexity. "Never have I
seen any like to thee."

"I am a shepherd, my beauty. I graze my splendid flocks of white lambs
upon the mountains, where the green grass is pied with narcissi. Wilt
thou not come with me, unto my pasture?"

But she quietly shakes her head:

"Canst thou think that I will believe this? Thy face has not grown rough
from the wind, nor is it scorched by the sun, and thy hands are white.
Thou hast on a costly chiton, and the buckle upon it is worth the yearly
rental that my brothers bring for our vineyard to Adoniram, the king's
tax-gatherer. Thou hast come from yonder, from beyond the wall. Thou
art, surely, one of the men near to the king? Meseems I saw thee once
upon the day of a great festival; I even remember running after thy
chariot."

[Illustration]

"Thou hast guessed it, maiden. It is hard to be hid from thee. And
verily, why shouldst thou be a wanderer nigh the flocks of the
shepherds? Yea, I am one of the king's retinue. I am the chief cook of
the king. And thou didst see me when I rode in the chariot of Ammi-nadib
on the gala-day of Passover. But why dost thou stand distant from me?
Draw nearer, my sister! Sit down here upon the stones of the wall and
tell me something of thyself. Tell me thy name."

"Sulamith," she says.

"Then, Sulamith, why have thy brothers grown wroth with thee?"

"I am ashamed to speak of it. They received moneys from the sale of their
wine, and sent me to the city to buy bread and goat-cheese. But I ..."

"And thou didst lose the money?"

"Nay, still worse...."

She bends her head low and whispers:

"Besides bread and cheese I bought a little of attar of roses,--oh, so
little!--from the AEgyptians in the old city."

"And thou didst keep this from thy brethren?"

"Yea...."

And she utters in a barely audible voice:

"Attar of roses hath so goodly a smell!"

The king caressingly strokes her little rough hand.

"Surely, thou must be lonesome, all alone in thy vineyard?"

"Nay, I work, I sing.... At noon food is brought me, and at evening one
of my brothers relieves me. At times I dig for the roots of the
mandragora, that look like little mannikins.... The Chaldaean merchants
buy them from us. It is said they make a sleeping potion out of them....
Tell me, is it true that the berries of the mandragora help in love?"

"Nay, Sulamith, only love can help in love. Tell me, hast tho