"A man may not balk
a woman bent on having her way."

"Tell me," she continued, inclining her head, and permitting the
sneer to become positive--"tell me, O prince of Jerusalem, where is
he, that son of the carpenter of Nazareth, and son not less of God,
from whom so lately such mighty things were expected?"

He waved his hand impatiently, and replied, "I am not his keeper."

The beautiful head sank forward yet lower.

"Has he broken Rome to pieces?"

Again, but with anger, Ben-Hur raised his hand in deprecation.

"Where has he seated his capital?" she proceeded. "Cannot I go
see his throne and its lions of bronze? And his palace--he raised
the dead; and to such a one, what is it to raise a golden house?
He has but to stamp his foot and say the word, and the house is,
pillared like Karnak, and wanting nothing."

There was by this time slight ground left to believe her playing;
the questions were offensive, and her manner pointed with unfriendliness;
seeing which, he on his side became more wary, and said, with good humor,
"O Egypt, let us wait another day, even another week, for him, the lions,
and the palace."

She went on without noticing the suggestion.

"And how is it I see you in that garb? Such is not the habit of
governors in India or vice-kings elsewhere. I saw the satrap of
Teheran once, and he wore a turban of silk and a cloak of cloth
of gold, and the hilt and scabbard of his sword made me dizzy
with their splendor of precious stones. I thought Osiris had
lent him a glory from the sun. I fear you have not entered upon
your kingdom--the kingdom I was to share with you."

"The daughter of my wise guest is kinder than she imagines herself;
she is teaching me that Isis may kiss a heart without making it
better."

Ben-Hur spoke with cold courtesy, and Iras, after playing with the
pendent solitaire of her necklace of coins, rejoined, "For a Jew,
the son of Hur is clever. I saw your dreaming Caesar make his entry
into Jerusalem. You told us he would that day proclaim himself King
of the Jews from the steps of the Temple. I beheld the procession
descend the mountain bringing him. I heard their singing. They were
beautiful with palms in motion. I looked everywhere among them for
a figure with a promise of royalty--a horseman in purple, a chariot
with a driver in shining brass, a stately warrior behind an orbed
shield, rivalling his spear in stature. I looked for his guard.
It would have been pleasant to