"My beloved is mine and I am his
Until the daybreak and the shadows flee away."
The words floated gently out on the air from the housetop. The voice was that of Mary.
"Mary—Mary!" called Martha. "A new pig-skin bottle is missing." And she started toward the stair steps. Hearing no answer she hurried upward calling, "Mary, Mary, canst thou not hear?"
"Many waters can not quench love.
Neither can the floods drown it,
For love is strong as death—"
Mary sang, lightly touching the strings of her harp as she sat under her bower of myrtle and palm.
"Mary, a new skin bottle is missing!" the housewife shouted in her sister's ear, "and the foolishness thou singeth doth make thee deaf."
"'Foolishness,' thou sayest? Once, to me also the beauty of it were hidden. But now—listen, Martha—
"I sat under his shade with great delight
And his fruit was sweet
He brought me into his banqueting house
And his banner over me was love.
Since the Master hath come it seemeth clear. Is not his wisdom a banquet? Are not the wondrous beauty of his words and the tones of his voice like sweetest fruit and is not his banner of love over us?"
"That shouldst thou know, for since the first time he crossed our threshold thou hast made thy dwelling place at his feet. And his banner of love methinks is large enough for all sorts of women to find place under, even such kind as would pollute thee by a touch."