CHAPTER XXXI
THE DOOMED CITY
Two men were on the summit of the mountain which overlooked Ephesus. They had been earnestly engaged in conversation for some time, and, as they walked together, Chios said:
'How glorious is the decline of day! How splendid looks the city bathed in the golden light of eve!'
'Ay, true,' replied his companion; 'and I would that its fate led to peace, but it is not so.
'Seest thou the great city as it lies beneath us, its shrines and palaces like polished silver and burnished gold, and its frowning walls and battlements like a mighty circle of adamant?
'Look at its many terraced gardens of vine, olive, citron, and pomegranate, and gaze upon its purple-misted sea, and count, if thou canst, the multitude of white-winged ships bringing merchandise to pour into the lap of this mighty mart.
'The many-toned instruments sending forth their plaintive strain come up upon the perfume-laden air, and the song of the priests from yonder mighty Temple, the wonder of the world, floats lazily by like a vessel drifting with the tide.
'But, like the city of Salem, o'er which my Master wept, so this is doomed.
'The time shall come, and ere long, when it shall sicken and die. Those mighty buildings shall be no more. Yea, the mightiest of them, the great Temple of the goddess, shall become a wreck, and its splendour be rent in pieces and distributed amongst the nations, its floorway be covered with the dust of centuries, and its very site be questioned in the minds of men.