“There were many splendid youths who rejoiced to be permitted to bring their wands.”
“Oh, ho! then they were suffered to draw for the girl? But what matter—the Angel of Lots presided! He’d not let the youths succeed!” Again Rizpah laughed, and as mockingly as before.
Miriamne again read:
“After prayer each deposited his almond tree with the aged Temple priest. In the early morning they anxiously sought the verdict. It was found that all the rods were dead, except that of Joseph, the son of Jacob, the son of Mathan; but his blossomed as that which, ages before, confirmed miraculously the priesthood of Aaron’s sons. Then there appeared another miracle, for as Joseph reached forth his hand to take his blooming branch, there issued from among its luxurious blossoms, miraculously, a white dove, dazzling as snow. For a moment the dove gracefully suspended itself in the air, turning its eyes from one to another of the competitors; then it alighted on Joseph’s head. ‘Thou art the person chosen to take the Virgin and keep her for the Lord,’ said the priest, solemnly, to Joseph. All the rivals responded ‘Amen,’ and then the dove flew away toward heaven. Joseph was thirty-three years old, of pleasing countenance, very modest, graceful, and of comely figure, and a widower.
“When all was told to Mary she modestly replied: ‘I knew it, for the Lord has been with me.’ Zacharias told Mary that Joseph was a true, honest Jew, a carpenter by trade, and trained by a father who fully believed the adage of Rabbins, which said that ‘He who would not make his son a robber makes him a mechanic.’ ‘Besides this,’ said the Temple priest, ‘thy espoused one is like thyself, of the royal house of David. The blood of twenty kings mingle in the veins of you both. God grant that to that house of David there soon be born another, greater than all before, to deliver our holy nation from foreign masters.’ Mary made no reply, but as a blush of hopefulness passed over her face, she looked very earnestly toward heaven and seemed to be repeating the prayer of the priest to the All Father. The formal betrothal then took place. Joseph presented his chosen bride a small token of silver, saying: ‘If thou consentest to be my bride, accept this.’ She took it, smiling affectionately, and then the witnesses signed the usual Jewish compact, which read as follows:
“‘I Joseph, said to Mary, daughter of Jehoikim, become my wife under the law of Moses and Israel. I promise to honor thee; to provide for thy support; thy food and thy clothing; according to the custom of Hebrew husbands, who honor their wives, as is befitting. I give thee at once thy dowry and promise thee besides nourishment, and clothing, and whatsoever shall be necessary for thee, also conjugal friendship, a thing common to all nations of the world. Mary consents to become the wife of Joseph,’ The two signed the document.”
“See Miriamne, the Jews were wise; they made the husbands do most of the promising. They knew that the wives would be all wifely without such pledging.” And Rizpah again bitterly laughed.
“Shall I proceed?”
“Yes, oh, proceed; it’s a Jewish poem.”
“Thereupon Joseph placed a jeweled ring upon Mary’s fourth finger, with a smile and a blush, saying, the ‘physicians say, my beloved, that a nerve and a vein, reaching the heart together, lay close to the surface of that finger.’ And she understood and was happy. A benediction was pronounced, and then the espoused pair were ready to depart to Joseph’s house. He was to be the guardian of the maiden from that hour forth. The hereditary servants of the families took up the line of march, bearing flaming torches; immediately after these followed a procession of women, richly garbed and wearing golden tiaras and pearl bedecked girdles. Behind these attendants of the virgin, followed a goodly company of dexterous musicians and singers, discoursing rapturously the significant canticles of Solomon. As the latter went on from time to time they broke out of the line of march and disported themselves in the eastern star-dance, saying as they did so, to one another, ‘the morning stars sang at creation; the dawn of a new home coming by love, is next to creation the most joyous of all events.’ So the dancers went on, and as they rejoiced in poetic motions, they thought of the stars which yet tremble as if with the thrilling of that first delight they shouted. Of all, the sweet orphan girl now companioned was the center. She was bedecked with costly jewels, the glad tributes of those that loved her; over her was the significant veil, and, so beneath the wedding canopy, she entered Nazareth to be a wife. Her sky had become very bright, for hers was a heart that took exquisite joy from the honeyed petals of affection’s flower. No bride ever more fully entered into that supreme state, the all exalting, entrancing, expanding, thrilling period of new married life. She went forward in the proud consciousness that her weakness had overcome a giant, and that while she lead a royal captive, she was supremely happy in her utter bestowal of her all upon the one only man now became almost next to God in the temple of her soul.”