Surely he remembered her voice. He seemed strangely disturbed, and the hand that reined Merodach shook till the bridle rang again. Turning to Assarac, he murmured in a stifled voice,
"Bid them keep the people back, I pray you; with point of spear if need be. I will hear what the damsel has to say."
Then Ishtar poured forth her whole heart with an eloquence that could only have been wrung from her by his danger whom she loved better than her very life. She reminded Ninyas of his professed attachment to herself, of their flight through the desert to the south, of her unwilling thraldom, and constant resistance at Ascalon, notwithstanding his rank, his beauty, his exceeding attractions, avoiding, with womanly tact, every allusion that could hurt his self-love, and lavishing, with womanly recklessness, every expression of flattery that could impress on him the immeasurable distance between his handmaid and her lord. Then she bade him judge of her feelings by his own. What had she to live for but the man she loved? The youth was to her as water in the desert, as a breath of air to one bricked up in a dungeon. She was sick for his comely face. She made her prayer to the king, because she had been taught from childhood he was the representative of Baal in the land of Shinar, the embodiment of truth, justice, and mercy amongst his people. She knelt to him as to Nisroch with the eagle-head. She presumed not to stand before his face without a gift. Let her find favour in his sight. It was the only jewel she had left. Let him take it. Let him but grant her petition, rescue this goodly youth from captivity, and take herself—her life—all she had to give!
In accordance with ancient custom forbidding the suppliant to enter the presence of a superior without an offering, she thrust into the king's hand that amulet of emerald which had already changed owners so many times. Even at her extremity of need she could not help remarking how white and delicate were those royal fingers that trembled round the jewel, how fair and shapely was the arm that shook with some inward conflict of passions, terrible in their struggle against the strength that kept them down. It was marvellous to her that jealousy should have such power over the male nature, and if Ninyas cared so very dearly for her, surely she ought to pity him, she thought, even though she could not love! All this under-current of feeling and reflection passed through her mind while she watched every turn and gesture of her lord with the eager eyes of one who balances between life and death.
The royal face was hidden by its tiara; the royal voice came low and husky with its haughty question,
"Is it a lover, girl, for whom you make this bold petition? Did he buy you with a trinket and cast you aside in the desert, and will nothing force him back to your arms save a decree of the king? Go to! You seem over-shameless for a maiden,—over-tender for a wife. I have spoken."
She was on her knees again, pressing the rider's garment to her forehead.
"By the glory of Shamash!" she exclaimed—"by the might of Ashur!—by the blood of Nisroch! I am a true woman. May my lips wither, may my tongue drop out, may my heart be consumed to ashes, if I conceive a falsehood in the face of my lord the king! His servant loves the youth—loves him so dearly, that for his sake she would accept death with joy, life-long bondage with gratitude—that to insure his safety she would give her hopes, her heart, her all, and consent never, never to see him again!"
The king was certainly changed. Looking wildly up in that comely face, it was colder, paler than before, and the lips turned very white while they asked in a low stern voice,
"How came you by this amulet? Speak the truth, girl, lest even now your eyes be covered and your body flung from the wall. Was it given you by—by this faithless lover of yours?"