oon will come, and then, I could weep, oh!
I could weep, and down these stern and seldom yielding cheeks pour the
wild anguish of my desperate woe. So young, so great, so favoured! But
one more step a God, and now a foul Belshazzar!

'Was it for this his gentle youth was passed in musing solitude and
mystic studies? Was it for this the holy messenger summoned his most
religious spirit? Was it for this he crossed the fiery desert, and
communed with his fathers in their tombs? Is this the end of all his
victories and all his vast achievements? To banquet with a wanton!

'A year ago, this very night, it was the eve of battle, I stood within
his tent to wait his final word. He mused awhile, and then he said,
"Good night, Jabaster!" I believed myself the nearest to his heart, as
he has ever been nearest to mine, but that's all over. He never says,
"Good night, Jabaster," now. Why, what's all this? Methinks I am a
child.

'The Lord's anointed is a prisoner now in the light grating of a bright
kiosk, and never gazes on the world he conquered. Egypt and Syria, even
farthest Ind, send forth their messengers to greet Alroy, the great, the
proud, the invincible. And where is he? In a soft Paradise of girls and
eunuchs, crowned with flowers, listening to melting lays, and the wild
trilling of the amorous lute. He spares no hours to council; all is left
to his prime favourites, of whom the leader is that juggling fiend I
sometime called my brother.

'Why rest I here? Whither should I fly? Methinks my presence is still a
link to decency. Should I tear off the ephod, I scarcely fancy 'twould
blaze upon another's breast. He goes not to the sacrifice; they say he
keeps no fast, observes no ritual, and that their festive fantasies will
not be balked, even by the Sabbath. I have not seen him thrice since
the marriage. Honain has told her I did oppose it, and she bears to me
a hatred that only women feel. Our strong passions break into a thousand
purposes: women have one. Their love is dangerous, but their hate is
fatal.

'See! a boat bounding on the waters. On such a night, but one would dare
to venture.'

Now visible, now in darkness, a single lantern at the prow, Jabaster
watched with some anxiety the slight bark buffeting the waves. A flash
of lightning illumined the whole river, and tipped with a spectral light
even the distant piles of building. The boat and the toiling figure
of the single rower were distinctly perceptible. N