“Yet,” said I, “the great Ananus lived as became his rank, and there were then no dangers to disturb him in the midst of his people.”
“But there was one terrible event which made those walls unhallowed; nay, even in this spot I would not remain alone through the night to have the palace for my own.”
A rich strain of music that ushered in some change in the displays of the banquet interrupted my question, while the old man’s countenance assumed something of the alarm which he described.
“That sound,” said he, shuddering, “goes to my heart. It is the same that I heard on the night of death. On that night Matthan, the only son of my great master, was to be wedded to the daughter of the prince of Hebron, and that gallery was laid out for the wedding-feast. All the leaders of Jerusalem were there, all the noble women, all the chief priesthood; all the grandeur, wealth, and beauty of our tribe. But Matthan was not the son of his father’s mind. He had fled from his father’s roof years before, and taken refuge in the mountains. The caravan passing through Galilee dreaded the name of Matthan, for he was bold; the chief of the hills saw his followers flying from his side, for deadly was the spear of Matthan; but he was generous, and often the slave rejoiced in the breaking of his chains, and the peasant saw his flocks cover the valley again by the arm and the bounty of Matthan.
A Countenance of Wrath and Wo
“I saw him on the day when he returned; danger or sorrow had wrought a change in him like the passing from youth to age. His strength was gone, and his voice was broken, like the voice of him that treads on the brink of the timely grave. His noble father wept over him, but gave him welcome; and the palace was filled with rejoicing for the coming back of the first-born. Yet he took no delight in the feast, neither in the praises of men nor in the voice of the singer. He wandered through his father’s halls, even as the leopard, chained and longing to escape to the desert and the prey again. Disturbances were beginning to be heard in Jerusalem, and he fell into the hands of the evil one. Onias, the man of blood, betrayed him into the secret ways of conspiracy against our conquerors. His heart was bold and his temper high, and he was easily drawn into the desperate game by a villain who stirred up the generous spirit of our nobles, only to sell their blood to Rome.
“He grew more lonely day by day; withdrew from the amusements of his rank, and shut himself up in the wing of the palace, ending in this tower. In this room I have seen his lamp burning through the livelong winter nights, and grieved over the sleeplessness that showed he was among the unhappy.
The Strangeness of a Bridegroom
“At last a change was wrought upon him. He went forth; he took delight in the horse and the chariot, in the chase, and the feast, and the die. His father, that he might bless his posterity before he died, counseled him to take to wife Thamar, the noblest of the daughters of Hebron. The day of the marriage was appointed. On that day I saw him come from the council-hall, after receiving the congratulations of his friends. I saw him passing along to his chamber, but I dared not cross him on his way. He thought that he was alone, and then he gave way to his agony. Never did I behold such a countenance of wrath and wo. It was bloated with prodigal living, and it was now flushed with wine. He raved, he rent his bridal raiment and cast it from him; he wept; he knelt and cursed the hour he was born. I remained in my refuge, yet more in fear of his countenance than of his sword. He took letters from his bosom, read them, and then scattered their fragments in the air. He tottered toward me, and I dreaded his rage, but I saw at a glance that his mind was gone. He was talking to the air; he clasped his hands wildly; his face was covered with tears; he implored for mercy, and fell. I hastened to bear him to a couch; he saw me not, but cried out against himself as a betrayer and a murderer, the fugitive from honor, the criminal marked by the hand of Heaven.
“I called for help. His mountaineers rushed in; they repulsed me; and chiding him in their barbarian tongue, and seeming accustomed to those fits of sorrow, carried away in their arms the noble Matthan, crying like a child.