"Before cometh mother-love, cometh woman's love for a man," she said after a brief hesitation.
"The mystery thou divinest. Thou art a woman. Tell me—what is the love of a woman for a man?"
"Thou dost ask me concerning the love in the heart of a woman that doth make it hunger for one man alone—apart from all the world, and in her dreams feel his arms about her, and beside a cradle look with him upon bone of their bone and flesh of their flesh? Dost thou ask me this?"
"I do ask thee, woman."
"And I do answer thee. A woman's love is a white flame on a deathless altar burning for the High Priest of her heart, where, over their united love the Shekinah doth hover as holy incense. And when the flame doth burn and the ear be ever listening for the priest in snowy raiment that cometh not, then doth the flame be ever consuming itself and the heart groweth sick, for woman's love desireth to give all."
"And doth thy ear listen for the footsteps of thy sacred altar's one
High Priest?"
"Ask me not, my Master—ask me not. From my heart I have already lifted the veil too far aside for it is not given woman to speak of her love, though it is her life. Yet love is strange—love is holy!"
"Thou sayest well 'Love is strange—love is holy.' Love is the breath of God which corruption hath not power to touch. And as it hath been ordered of the Creator that woman desire to give all, so hath it been given to man's love, to ask all—aye, Mary, to take all. So there are not two loves different. A man's love and a woman's love are but the two parts of that love which is both center and circumference of all that is. And among mankind it is the love that moves the woman and the man each to forsake all others and cleave one to the other. And thinkest thou I know not this love? Knowest thou not the fathers of Israel are a race of lovers? Did not our Father Jacob toil seven years for her whom his soul loved? It were not a female he would take unto himself, as a beast doth mate, else Leah would have served as well as Rachael. But for the love of Rachael did he toil yet other seven years. Nor did his body rest in the tomb until her bones lay beside him. And of the love of Boaz—were not Israel's kings begotten of this love? Aye, it was a lover of Israel that did sing 'Love is strong as death!' Of this race that has lived and loved and written of love and died loving come I. In my veins doth run the blood of a nation of lovers. Rise, Mary, and sit thou beside me. My heart hath that to say which my lips have not yet spoken."
When Mary had moved from the stone at his feet to a place beside him, Jesus said, "Sit thou close to me, aye, so close that not the shadow of a silver olive leaf can come between our souls—thy soul and mine, for since mine eyes first beheld thee on the Temple porch thou hast been more to me than thou canst ever know. Weary have I oft come to thy home and thou hast rested me. Faint-hearted have I come, and thou hast strengthened me. Disappointed, and thou hast cheered me; discouraged with those dull of comprehension and thou hast understood, and while thou hast sat at my feet to learn, much have I learned of thee. Yea, thou hast been my friend, my counselor, my comrade, my disciple—all things thou hast been to me save one and without this, all other were but the hunger thy heart doth feel—were but the High Priest waiting where there were no altar fire. Mary, thou art my Rachael. Thou art my Ruth. Thou are my Rose of Sharon and my Lily of the Valley. As a rose among thorns, so to my heart art thou among the daughters of Zion. Thou art my soul's beloved! Woman—woman—I love thee! Lovest thou me with the love that is one with mine?"
"Love I thee? Aye, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee. Love I thee with all my soul, mind, strength and body. Yea, I love thee—not for a moon—not for a harvest—not for a jubilee of years—nay, not for the long centuries that make dust of our fathers' tombs. But until the Jordan forsaketh its course—until the moon droppeth forever behind Moab's hills—aye, beloved, until the mother forsaketh her son hanging on the highest tree, will I love thee—and after that forever! For is not our God love? And is not God eternal?"