"But," rejoined Cynthia, "the Jews' god is such a serious being; always telling his people to be good, and scolding them for their sins. That story of Mount Sinai, with its dreary rocks and sands, and the lightnings with their nest among the peaks, and caves like great mouths roaring out thunder; oh, it must be a doleful place! I prefer Mount Olympus, with its fair women and warriors for divinities."
"And the worship of the Jews' God must be very tedious," added the Princess. "On the Sabbath, no laughing, no playing."
"Our God takes his rest on that day, like an old grandfather, and does not want his children to disturb his nap," sneered Lydia. "But my good Menelaos is changing such customs. On Sabbath next we have the great games. Charicles from Sparta races with a Nubian chariot runner and an Arab sheikh, for a stake of ten shekels which the High Priest has offered. It will be a sight; three statues, one in marble, one in ebony, and one in porphyry, all come to life."
"The fault of the Jewish religion is that it makes too little of this world," said the Princess. "It has no divine patron for the arts; no Melpomene to inspire the song, no Terpsichore to stir the dance, no Ares for war, and no Aphrodite to teach us how to love. I don't believe that our fair hostess, who lies so solemnly there, has yet learned how to commune with Aphrodite. I will pray that our happy goddess touch her lips and make them itch for kisses, before the crow's feet make their marks at her eyelids, as they soon will do if she insists on such mannish escapades as she has been having. What shafts from Cupid's quiver those black eyes could shoot, my fair Berenice! I shall warn all my lovers to beware of you ere you learn your power."
"I fear that just now we need to consult the war god," said Berenice. "Think you that Ares had gone wooing the day of the battle in the Wady? Or did it please his godship to lend his sword to the Maccabæan rebels rather than to Apollonius?"
"Quick! the Princess is fainting. A little wine, my dear. The death of her kinsman went to her heart. That was a cruel thing for Berenice to say," exclaimed Lydia, bending over her friend.
"I am better now," responded Helena in a moment. "My dear kinsman, Apollonius, taught me to bear misfortune. It was his motto, 'Forget the dead, except to emulate their virtues.' As he braved death, I must brave my bereavement. I believe with Plato—do you not? that the soul is immortal. Then Apollonius lives. Perhaps I shall see him again." She hid her face in the cushions.
"Apollonius' death will be quickly avenged," cried Cynthia. "Already my husband, Seron, has been called to lead the new army, and at one blow he will utterly extirpate those Jewish beasts. All save Jerusalem, from the Great Sea to Jordan, is to be swept with sword. The King has put into my Seron's hand all the forces in Syria; and following them is a great multitude of colonists from the north, who are to settle the lands."
"Where is Seron now?" asked Berenice.