"And you would kill, look not upon them—they are so fair."
"If I close my eyes, then, I do see a thing more fair."
"What?"
"The face of one I love. It is a love greater than all other things—fame or king or fatherland."
"Or revenge?" inquired David.
For a little Vergilius made no answer; but presently he said: "I am a
Roman; who seeks my life shall lose his own."
They came upon a ewe lying in the roadway. She looked up with a mute appeal, but moved not. She seemed to reckon upon the kindness of them approaching. The squad parted, passing on either side. All drew rein, and one, dismounting, stood a moment looking down at her. Then laying hold of her fleece, he moved the ewe tenderly aside.
"A sign and a wonder!" said the Roman knight, as they continued their journey. "That old fighter has no hand for kindness."
"But mark this miracle of God," said the friend of Vergilius. "He softens the heart of those with young and makes gentle the hand that touches them. Ay, has he not softened the heart of the world? 'Tis like a mother whose time is near."
Soon a purple dusk had overflooded the hills and risen above the splendor of Jerusalem. The old capital was now like a dim, mysterious, golden isle in a vast, azure sea. Vergilius thought, as he went on, of those camel-riders. He seemed to hear in the lift and fall of hoofs, in the rattle of scabbards, that strange cry: "Where is he that is born king of the Jews?"