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ION  E 

A    TALE     OF    EPHESUS 


By  JAMES   S.  PARK 


Suggested  by  Edwin  Long's  Painting 
"CHRIST  OR  DIANA" 


NEW   YORK 
ANSON   D.   F.   RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
182  Fifth  Avenue 


\x^^ 


YS'^ 


Copyright,  i8g2, 
By  James  S.  Park. 


JHnt'fefrsffo  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


lONE. 


I. 

N  days  of  seedtime  of  the  Christian 
faith, 
When   men  were    seeking    every- 
where for  light, 
Or  clasping  old  traditions  close,  there  lived 
At  Ephesus  a  venerable  Greek 
Called  Ctesiphon.     The  changing  years  had 

left 
Their  grief  as  well  as  gladness  in  his  heart ; 
His  life-long  friend,  Antonius  of  Rome, 
Coming  on  business  ventures,  year  by  year. 
Had  been  persuaded,  ere  his  last  return, 
To  leave  awhile  his  young  son,  Marius  ; 
But  midway  in  the  voyage   the  treacherous 
wind 


6  lone. 

Whirled  the  calm  ripples  into  angry  waves, 
And  driving  his  galley  hard  upon  the  rocks, 
Sunk  it,  with  all  on  board.     The  sad  news 

came 
Months  afterward  to  the  Ephesian  home, 
And  music  changed  to  mourning.     But  the 

boy 
Was    loved    and    cherished    by  his    father's 

friend, 
And  hardly  did  he  know  his  orphanage 
Till  his  adoption.     Soon  he  had  become 
The  dear  companion  in  all  pleasant  hours 
Of  the  three  sisters,  younger  than   himself, 
lone,  Lesbia,  and  Pelope. 
Gay,  eager  rivals  were  they  in  the  search 
For .  the     first    wild- flowers     after    winter's 

snows ; 
They  watched  the  kingly  eagle,  floating  high. 
Or  wondered  at  the  rainbow's  radiant  arch. 
Or  roaming  in  the  dim  old  forest,  learned 
Secrets    of   birds    and    bees,    of   trees    and 

moss  ; 
They    sailed    their    mimic    fleets    upon    the 

stream. 


lone.  7 

While  sitting  down,  they  cut  long,  hollow 
stalks, 

And  breathing  in  them  brought  forth  mel- 
low tones ; 

Or  chased,  with  ringing  laughter,  playful 
goats 

Around  the  field,  till  flushed  and  out  of 
breath. 

They  sank  down  panting  in  the  fragrant 
grass ; 

And  many  another  pastime  filled  the  days' 

Deep  chalice  to  the  brim  with  sparkling 
wine. 

Five  happy  years  went  by  on  shining  wings ; 
Then  came  a  change,  as  Marius  was  of  age 
For  Roman  schooling,  as  Antonius  wished, 
In  eloquence,  and  arms,  and  government, 
At  the  world's  capital.     Darker  seemed  the 

house. 
And  dimmed  the  sunshine  over  all  the  land. 
When  he  had  left  them,  after  long  farewells, 
lone  wandered  restlessly  about. 
Missing  her  leader  in  a  hundred  ways, 


8  lone. 

Till    marking    how  a  cloud    enwrapped   the 

hearts 
Of  father,  mother,  sisters,  even  the  slaves. 
She  strove  by  thoughtful,  gentle  ministry 
To  bring  back  smiles   and  gladness.      Day 

by  day 
Their  loss  was  lessened,  and   she   took  his 

place, 
As  far  as  might  be,  to  depending  ones. 

Then    letters    came,  as    months    and    years 

rolled  on, 
Telling  of  progress,  with  a  glow  of  pride 
In    deeds    of    ancient    days,    and    how    he 

burned 
Already  to  be  leader  of  a  host 
In  some  great  enterprise.     lone  felt 
A   thrill   of  sympathy  with   all   his   thought, 
And   treasured  up   the  words  like  precious 

gems, 
Because  he  wrote  them. 

But  a  dark-browed  Guest 
Was  daily  drawing  nearer  to  the  house 
Unbidden,  till  at  length  they  heard  a  knock 


lone.  9 

Imperious,  and  he  entered,  took  the  hand 
Of  wife  and   mother   in  his  chiUing  clasp, 
And  she  whose  Ufe  was  closely  twined  with 

theirs, 
Making  one   harp-string,  sounding  full  and 

sweet, 
Passed     into     silence,    with    the    voiceless 

shades. 
Then  Ctesiphon's  sad,  desolated  heart, 
Too  tender  for  his  grim  philosophy, 
Would  not  be  comforted,  but  wandered  out 
Into  the   darkness,  asking  for  some   strong 
Assurance  of  an   endless,  unseen  hfe. 
With  re-united  souls,  but  all  in  vain. 
lone  nobly  strove  again  to  fill 
A  place  made  vacant,  but  her  weight  of  grief 
Was  overpowering  sometimes,  till  she  slipped 
Away  from  all,  and  wept  despairingly. 
The  younger  children  felt  the  sudden  shock 
Less  keenly,  and  their  spirits  soon  revived. 
Till    sunshine    almost    filled    their    restless 

hearts, 
Save    in    the    father's   presence,   when    they 

marked 


lo  lone. 

How  slow  his  step,  how  sorrowful  his  face, 
Where  grief  had  ploughed  deep  furrows  in 

the  brow, 
And  scattered  ashes  on  his  hair  and  beard, 
Until  it  seemed  that  in  the  space  of  months 
Long  years    had   passed  ;    instinctively  they 

hushed 
Their   laughter   then,    and    spoke   in    lower 

tones. 


So  the  dull  days  crept  on  with  folded  wings  ; 
The    sun,    retreating    toward    the    southern 

pole, 
Was   sometimes    hid  from  sight  by  leaden 

clouds, 
And  chilly  winds  began  to  blow  from  seas 
And  eastern  deserts,  heralds  of  the  stern 
Gray  monarch  Winter ;    soon  the  shivering 

land 
Lay  bound  in  icy  fetters,  and  no  voice 
From     Nature's     myriad    summer    tongues 

could  speak 
Of  coming  life  and  beauty,  —  all  was  death. 


lone. 


II. 


HREE  times  had  Winter's  scepter 
ruled  the  earth, 
And   thrice  been  broken  by  the 
hand  of  Spring; 
But  by  a  shorter  way  than  Nature  knew 
The  guide  Necessity  was  bringing  forth 
The  woman  in  lone  ere  her  years, 
And  many  a  grace,  unseen  by  radiant  sun 
Of  youth   and   gladness,  blossomed  in  the 

night 
Of    sorrow,    like    some    lovely    snow-white 

flower 
That   shuns   the   glare   of  daytime.      When 

she  passed 
Along  the  public  ways,  her  floating  hair 
And  downcast,  dark-fringed  eyes  and  quiv- 
ering lips 
Compelled   attention ;    many  turned   about 
For  second  glance,  and  murmured,  "  Beau- 
tiful !  " 


1 2  lone. 

But  one  there  was,  the  proud  Neocritus, 
High-priest  of  great  Diana,  whose  bold  gaze 
Respected  not  her  shrinking.     Openly 
He  led  a  righteous  life,  but  down  beneath 
Lay  smouldering  an  evil,  passionate  heart, 
Whose  fires  flamed  red  in  secret.     But  few 

dared 
A    whisper    of     dark    deeds    supposed    or 

known. 
Because  the  priest  was  powerful ;    his  com- 
mand 
A  law  supreme.     Many  a  priestess  fair 
Serving  within  the  temple,  was  the  tool 
Or  partner  of  his  sin.    And  having  marked 
lone's  beauty,  all  his  varied  arts 
Of  soft  persuasion  were  arrayed  to  win 
The  maiden   to  this  virgm  company. 
As  the  lithe  serpent  seeks  to  lure  the  bird 
With  fiery,  flashing  eyes  and  graceful  coils, 
Till  the  poor  victim  flutters  helplessly, 
The  strange,  wild  fascination  having  dulled 
The  sense  of  danger. 


lone.  13 

But  lone's  soul 
Beheld  unceasingly  the  mother's   face 
Through  mist  of  tender  memory;    father's 

age 
And  sister's  youth  required  her  loving  care, 
And  one  she   saw  in   dreams,  she  doubted 

not 
Would  some  day  come  again.     Besides  she 

felt 
A  vague,  unreasoning  fear,  and  strong  dis- 
like 
As  often  as  she  met  Neocritus. 
Yet  answer  absolute  she  dared  not  give. 
And    trembling,    pleaded    longer    time    for 

thought. 
Whereat  the  priest,  though  chafing  inwardly, 
Forebore  to   press  his  purpose  ;   better  far 
A  future  favorite   than   present  slave  ! 

One   day  lone,  with  a  heavy  heart. 
Was  passing  lisdessly  along  the  way 
To  some  secluded  spot,  when  brokenly 
A  sound  of  reading    reached  her,  and   the 
voice, 


14  lone. 

Low-toned  at  first,  yet  thrilled  exultingly, 
As  if  the  reader  felt  a  climax  come,  — 
A    fair,   white    dayspring,  —  and  his  waiting 

soul 
Rose  like  a  lark  to  meet  it.     Drawing  near 
The  open  door,  she  listened  eagerly :  — 

"  /  would  not  have  you  to  be  ignorant, 
Brethren,  concerning  them   that  are  asleep, 
So   that  ye  sorrow  not,  as  others  do 
Which  have  no  hope^ 

("Ah  !"  sighed  lone,  "I 
Am    one    of  those ;    what   hope    can  come 

to  me?") 
Again  she  listened  :  — 

"  For  the  Lord  himself 
Shall  come    down    out   of  heaven    with    a 

shout. 
The  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  the  trump 
Of  God ;   thereat  the    dead  in    Christ  shall 

first 
Arise,  then  we  which   are  alive  shall  all 
Be  caught  up  in  the  clouds  to  fneet  the  Lord 
And  he  foirver  with  him  !  " 


lone.  15 

Here  she  turned 
And     swiftly     walked     away     with     burning 

face. 
Surely  this  was  the  Christian  sect,  despised 
By  all   her  people,  —  in  her  father's  words, 
"A  Galilean  folly,  far  beneath 
The  least  attention  of  a  thoughtful  Greek  ! " 
She   did    not   know  that,  years    before,   the 

flame 
Of  Christian  zeal  had  spread  from  house  to 

house. 
Kindled  by  Paul,  nor  that  the  words  were 

his 
Which  she   had    heard   repeated;    but  they 

glowed 
Within  her  like  the  morning  star  in  heaven, 
Distant  and  cold,  yet  hinting  warmth   and 

cheer. 
"Great  words,"  she  mused,  ''yet  meaning- 
less to  me. 
Who  are  '  the  dead  in  Christ,'  and  how  can 

they 
Be    raised    by    any   power    this    poor    sect 

knows  ? 


1 6  lone. 

Nay,  I  am  but  a  foolish  child  to  think 
On    such    delusions ;    none    can    raise    the 
dead  !  " 

But   still  the   music  of  that  noble  voice 
Lingered  within   her  memory ;  and  a  wish 
That    somehow   all    might    be    as    she    had 

heard 
Drew  her,  almost  unconsciously,  again 
Some    days    thereafter,    to    the    same    low 

door, 
Trembling    with    shame,    though    hungering 

for  a  hope. 

An  influence  all  unguessed  was  guiding  her 
In  ways  mysterious  to  learn  of  Him, 
The  All-sufficient  One,  whose  infinite  heart. 
Forgetting    none    of    heaven's    vast    multi- 
tudes, 
Twined    round    our  little    earth  when    time 

began. 
And  in  far  Eden  breathed  the  breath  of  life 
Immortal   into  man,  forevermore,  — 
Almighty  Love,   whose  everlasting  arms. 


lone.  1 7 

That  hold  the  whirUng  universe  in  place, 
Are  always  underneath  the  fainting  souls 
Of  all  that  seek  Him,  so  that  none  may  sink 
Into  eternal  darkness,   asking  light. 

The  reading  was  in  progress  as  she  reached 
The  Christian's   house,   and   swiftly  glanced 

around 
For  watchful,  curious  eyes.     Save  for  herself 
The  narrow  street  was  now  deserted  quite. 
And   reassured   she   listened.      Smooth    and 

calm, 
In  quiet  dignity,  the   reader's  words 
Flowed    like     a     steady,    sunlight-cleaving 

stream  :  — 

"  God  that  hath  made   the  world,  and  all 

therein, 
Seeing  that  he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
Doth  not  inhabit  temples  made  with  hands  ; 
Neither  can  he  be  worshipped  with   men's 

hands, 
As  if  he  needed  aught,  for  he  hath   given 
To  all  the  breath  of  life,  and  all  things  else, 


1 8  lone. 

And  made  all  nations  of  one  common  blood, 
To  dwell  on  all  the  earth,  and  hath  ordained 
The  times  before  appointed,  and  their  bounds, 
That  they   should  seek    the   Lord,  if  haply 

thus 
In   feeling    they    might   find    him,    though 

he  be 
Not  far  from  every  one  of  us,  because 
In    him    we   live   and    move;    in    him    we 

have 
Our  being,  —  as  your  poets  also  say  : 
For  we  are  all  his    offspring.      The?-efore, 

since 
Mankind  is  sprung  from  God,  we  ought  not 

think 
That  Deity  is  like  to  graven  gold. 
Silver,  or  stone,  in  forms  devised  by  man. 
God  hath  allowed  these  titnes  of  ignorance. 
But  now  commands  repentance  everywhere. 
Because  a  day  hath  been  appointed  when 
The  world  shall  all  be  fudged  in  righteous- 
ness 
By  one  ordained  thereto,  in  sign  of  which 
He  raised  him  from  the  dead.'^ 


lone.  19 

lone  stood 
Lost  in  a  maze    of  thought,  and    scarcely 

heard 
Beyond  the  strange,  new  words,  "  We  ought 

not  think 
That  Deity  is  hke  to  graven  gold, 
Silver,  or  stone,  in  forms  devised  by  man." 
That  ancient  image  in  the  temple  came, 
So    she    had    learned,    from    mighty    Zeus 

himself. 
Descending  through  the  clouds,  in  the  dim. 

dawn 
Of  Asian  history;    who  knew  if  this 
Were  truth  or  not?     If  not,  and  man  had 

formed 
The    statue,   was    it    not    the    poor,  weak 

dream 
Of  some  old  artist?    Never  help  had  come 
In  answer  to   her  prayers  for  strength  and 

light 
From  Artemis;   had  any  ever  seen 
In  very  truth  the  high,  immortal  gods? 
Did  they  exist  at  all,  save  in  the  mind 
Of  man,  their  maker? 


20 


lone. 


While  she  stood,  confused 
With  new-born  doubts,  the  little  company 
Had  closed  their    service  with   a  hymn  of 

praise, 
And  now  came  forth.     But  yet  she  heeded 

not, 
Until  a  touch  aroused  her;   terrified 
She    turned,   and    met    ihe   frank,   inquiring 

eyes 
And  gentle  question  of  Alcseus,  "  Child  : 
Art  thou  in  trouble?    Let  the  tender  Christ 
Bear  all  thy  burdens,  and  uplift  thy  soul  !  " 

As  when  the  icy  bonds  of  fountains  melt, 
Touched  by  the   morning   sunshine,  all  her 

pride 
Dissolved  beneath  the  sudden  sympathy. 
And  the   dry  valley  of  her  spirit  filled 
To  overflow  with  rush  of  tears  released. 


At  this  he  led  her  to  a  seat  within 
The  little  room,  and  waited  for  a  space 
Before  proceeding  ;  then  with  questions  kind 
He  learned  her  history. 


lone.  2 1 

Some  sixty  years 
Of  earthly  life  Alcaens  knew,  and  yet 
Few  were  the  signs  of  care  or  weariness ; 
A  steadfast  peace  dwelt  ever  in  his  eyes, 
And  as  he  talked  with  her  a  heavenly  smile 
Hovered  about  his  lips,  or  glorified 
At  one  swift  radiance  all  the  upturned  face. 
Long  time  they  sat  there,  while  the  western 

sun 
Began  to  gather  up  his  golden  robes, 
And  on  her  spirit  fell  a  strange,  sweet  calm, 
As  if  the  Christ  had  whispered,  "  Peace,  be 

still !  " 

At  length  she  rose  to  go.    Taking  her  hand 
With  all  a  father's  tenderness,  he  said  : 
"  Child,    if   thy    mother    never     knew    the 

Christ, 
For  lack  of  opportunity,  and  yet 
Was  heedful  of  his  voice  within  her  heart. 
Unconscious    whence    it    came,   I    may  not 

doubt 
That    she    has    passed    through    death    to 

Paradise. 


22  lone. 

For   '  how    shall    they    believe    on    him   of 

whom 
They  have  not  heard  ? '    So  says  the  apostle 

Paul, 
And  underneath  the  words  I  seem  to  hear 
The  heart-beats  of  the  Father's  infinite  love 
And  perfect  justice  sound  in  harmony. 
Nay,    more,  —  one    day  our   Master  met   a 

man 
Blind  from    his    birth,   and   asking  not    for 

faith. 
Put   clay   upon    his    eyes ;    then   bade    him 

wash 
Within  a  certain  pool,  and  when  he  saw. 
Declared  himself  the  Son  of  God,  whereat 
The    man   believed  and  worshipped.      And 

I  know 
That  one  so  patient  with  the  earthly  eyes. 
In  days  when  he  was   in   the   flesh,  is  not 
Less  tender  to  the  feeble  sight  of  souls, 
Now  that  he  reigns  in  glory.     But  to  thee 
He  giveth  more   of  grace,  and   stands    re- 
vealed 
To-day  in  all  his  beauty ;    thou  hast  heard 


lone. 


23 


His  words  of  endless  life ;   believe  in  him 
And  be  at  rest  and  peace  forevermore  ! 
But  yet  I  would  not  leave  thee  unaware 
Of  coming  trials,  for  my  uncle  heard 
The  great  apostle  say  that  grievous  wolves 
Should,  after  his  departure,  enter  in 
Among    us,    sparing    not    the    flock.      The 

words 
May  mean  that  we  must  seal  our  faith  with 

death, 
Even  as  others  ;  yet  remember  this,  — 
Our  light  affliction  for  a  moment  is, 
And  worketh  out  a  far  exceeding  weight 
Of  everlasting  glory.     Let  thy  thought 
Dwell    on    these    things,   and    come    to  us 

again 
The  first  day  of  the  week,  when  thou  shalt 

learn 
More  of  the  Saviour ;    meantime,  fare  thee 

well !  " 

So  through  the  twilight  haze  lone  went. 
Slowly  and    wondering,   to    her    home,  and 
found 


24 


lone. 


The  place  astir  with  news  of  Marius, 
Centurion  of  a  company,  on  the  way 
To  Ephesus,  to  aid  the  garrison. 
And  while  with  various  thoughts  her  heart 

beat  fast, 
And  flushed  her  face,  and  sometimes  came 

a  smile 
To  eyes  and  lips,  as  in  the  former  days, 
The  father  watched  her,  half  in  bitterness, 
And    murmured    to    himself,   "  Youth    soon 

forgets  !  " 
But  rarely  did  he  ask  her  of  her  life. 
And  seldom  had  she  gone  to  him  for  help 
Or  counsel  since  the  day  her  mother  died. 
Because  his   grief  absorbed  him.      So  her 

thoughts 
Throughout   the   week  were    surging  to  and 

fro;  . 
But  one  grand  purpose,  like  a  steady  ship. 
Faint  on  the  far  horizon,  grew  more  clear 
And    bright    and    high,   as    o'er   the   sea  it 

came. 
Though  lashed  by  winds  of  fear  and  chilly 

rain, 


lone. 


25 


With  waves  of  doubt  strong  dashing  at  the 

prow, 
Till  calmer  water  at  the  port  it  reached, 
And  in  a  morning  fair,  with  breezes  sweet. 
Dropped  anchor  in  the  deep,  safe  harbor, 

Christ  ! 

But  how  to  tell  the  others  of  her  choice. 
What  reasons  give  beyond  their  own,  or  why 
She  had  not  spoken  earlier  of  her  mind, — 
Perplexed   her  yet ;   and  while  she   thought 

on  this, 
Up  from  the  plains  one   sunny  morn  there 

came 
Faint  sounds  of  martial  music,  —  then  ap- 
peared 
A  rolling  cloud  of  dust,  with  points  of  light 
That    circled    round   the   roadway's    nearest 

bend. 
And  slowly  rising,  thinly  veiled  the  ranks 
Of  Roman  soldiers,  marching  cityward,  — 
Each  moment  nearer,  wider,  more  distinct. 
The  sunbeams  breaking  on  their  burnished 
arms 


26 


lone. 


In  glittering  wavelets,  as  the  rising  tide 
Crept  onward  up  the  slope,  until  at  last 
They    reached    and    passed    the    gates,  and 

formed  within ; 
Then,  while    the    housetops    swarmed    with 

eager  groups, 
Steadily  up  the  street  the  column  came, 
With  rhythmic  step  and  swaying  spears  and 

shields 
And  waving   plumes  and  ensigns   gleaming 

high 
And  horses  neighing  at  the  trumpet  call. 
Familiar  faces  all  were  in  the  van,  — 
The  city's  garrison  for  many  months, — 
But  closely  following   their  escort   marched 
A  company  of  strangers,  whom  all  eyes 
Regarded  curiously ;   and  at  their  head, 
Mounted  upon  a  proud,  high-stepping  bay, 
Young  Marius,  a  bronzed  Apollo,  rode. 
The  promise  of  his  childhood  beauty  filled 
To  satisfaction  by  the  ripening  years ; 
And  many  knew  the  face,  as  on  he  passed, 
And  shouted  friendly  greeting ;  but  the  man, 
Erect  and  flushed,  impatient  of  delay. 


lone. 


27 


Scarce    seemed    to    hear    them,  while    the 

column  wheeled 
Into  a  well-remembered  street,  and  there. 
Hardly  a  spear-cast  from  his  hungry  eyes. 
Arose  his  boyhood's  happy,  care-free  home, 
The  house  of  Ctesiphon  !     And  as  he  gazed, 
Upon  the  roof  appeared  the  household,  all 
Save  one  whose  gentle  face  he  longed  to  see, 
The  only  mother  that  he  ever  knew; 
And  the  quick  tears  sprang  up  and  veiled 

his  sight. 
The  while  they  waved  a  welcome ;   then  he 

passed, 
Swept  onward,  as  it  seemed,  by  all  his  men, 
And  blended  with  the  throng,  so  fading  out. 
Beyond  their  keenest  vision,  as  they  turned 
And  slowly  left  the  roof,  lone  last. 

How    long    the    day    that    sunders    waiting 

hearts  ! 
Upon  her  dial-plate  the  shadow  slept. 
And  Marius,  chained  by  military  cares, 
Looked  often   to  the  sun,  that    seemed   to 

stand 


28  lone. 

Still  in  the  heavens,  while  a  fervent  heat 
Bore  down  upon  the  land,  until  the  breeze 
Of  morning  fled  away,  as  if  in  fear. 
All  life  breathed  hard,  and  shrank  into  the 

shade, 
And  when  the  day  king  reached  his  throne 

of  noon 
He  ruled  a  silent  city. 

Hour  by  hour. 
High  overhead  the  vault  of  dazzling  blue 
Shone  spotless ;  then  its  base  began  to  fade 
Far  to  the  southward,  in  a  veil  of  mist, 
That  gathered  into  feathery,  floating  clouds. 
Slow  rising  upward,  and  a  whisper  crept 
Along  the  land,  a  message  from  the  sea, 
With  promise  of  refreshing  by  and  by. 

At  last  the  young  centurion  was  released ; 
And  in  the  waning  of  the  day  he  sat, 
Divested  of  his  armor,  at  the  home. 
And  looked  again  into  his  dear  ones'  eyes; 
Without,  a  fountain  in  a  spacious  court 
Plashed  musically,  while   the  whirring  birds 


lone.  29 

Dipped  down  to  drink  and  bathe,  and  scat- 
tered drops 
Like  diamonds  round  the  basin.     Then  he 

told 
Of    all    his    life,    and    answered    questions 

grave 
From  Ctesiphon,  or  listened  to  the  talk 
Of  Lesbia  and  Pelope  with  smiles, 
But  ever  glancing  where  lone  sat, 
Was  filled  with  admiration  at  her  face. 
Whose    glowing   eloquence  was    more   than 

speech ; 
And    in    his   heart    he    whispered,  "  She  is 
mine  !  " 

But  while  their  souls  were  swept  and  stirred 

and  thrilled 
To  strong,  glad  harmony  by  winds  of  love, 
The  sky  was  darkening;    glancing  up  they 

saw 
The    storm    king's    sable    hosts   arrayed    for 

war,  — 
His  fierce,  impatient  horses  snorting  fire, 
Their  mighty  hoofs  upon  the  firmament, 


30  lone. 

That   shook  beneath  their  trampling ;  then 

arose 
The    low,    dread   rumbling    of   his    chariot 

wheels. 
But  in  the  pause  that  followed,  suddenly 
Another  shadow  fell  across  the  floor, 
And   in   the   archway  stood   a   white-robed 

form,. — 
The  priest  Neocritus. 

Then  all  arose 
In  deference  to  his  rank ;   but  with  a  smile 
Less  courteous  than  crafty,  he  began 
Abruptly,  as  he  took  the  offered  seat : 
**  It  may  surprise  thee,  Ctesiphon,  to  know 
The  purpose  of  my  coming ;    yet  I  trust 
That  it  may  give  thee  pleasure.    I  have  long 
Looked  favorably  upon  thine  eldest  child, 
Because  the  generous  gods  have  dowered  her 
With  graces  like  Pandora's ;  and  I  deemed 
Such  beauty  should  adorn  the  temple  courts 
Of  Artemis,  our  Lady.     To  this  end 
I    oft    have    urged    the    maiden,  but   some 
cause  — 


lone.  31 

I  know  not  what  —  restrains   her  from  the 

step; 
Wherefore  I  call  thee  to  assist  my  words 
With  reasoning  of  thine  own.      A  father's 

voice 
May  well  be  more  effectual  than  mine 
In  setting  forth  the  glory  of  the  choice 
And  honor  of  the  service.     This  I  ask, 
Not  doubting  of  thy  willingness  to  grant." 

But  Ctesiphon  made  answer  dignified : 

"  Thou  knowest  that  my  daughters  are  the 

stay 
And  solace  of  my  swift- departing  days, 
And  surely  it  were  better  to  have  asked 
For  my  consent  before  thou  soughtest  hers. 
Yet    think   not  I  am  one    of  those  whose 

word 
Is  law  unbending  to  a  child's  desire ; 
lone  is  of  age  to  know  her  will, 
And  she  shall  have  the  fullest  liberty 
To   choose    her    future.     Daughter,  as   thy 

wish 
Shall  be  the  answer,  what  hast  thou  to  say  ?  " 


32 


lone. 


Then  from  her  seat  lone  rose,  and  stood 
Trembling  and  pale,  but  with  a  firm  resolve 
To  tell  them  bravely  of  her  new-gained  faith. 
Twice  she  essayed  to  speak-,  but  found  no 

words, 
And  in  the  glimmering,  soundless  lightning 

seemed 
Some  unsubstantial  vision,  as  it  lit 
Her    form     and     features    with     unearthly 

gleams ; 
And    Marius,   shuddering,  thought   of  those 

dim  shades 
That  wander  silent  through  the  underworld. 
At  last  her  answer  broke  the  stillness,  low 
And  faltering  at  first,  then  gaining  strength  : 


"  Father,  I  thank  thee  truly,  —  not  alone 
For  these,  thy  generous  words,  but  for  the 

love 
Which   thou    hast   always  lavished.     But  to 

prove 
My  gratitude,  I  can  but  gladly  take 
The  freedom  given.     And  one  thing  I  have 

done, 


lone.  33 

Sure   of  thy  kindness,  which  must  now  be 

told; 
Some  other  time  will  serve  for  questioning, 
Therefore  I  ask  thy  patience. 

"  Never  once 
Have    I    desired    to    leave    thee,   but   have 

sought 
Instead  to  be  like  sunshine  in  the  house, 
Since  that  dark  day  we  all  remember  well ; 
But    mine    own    life     was    hopeless,    till    I 

learned 
A  better  way  of  living.      I  have  left 
The  ancient  faith,  unsatisfied,  and  now 
Am    resting    on  the    power  of  One   whose 

name 
Is  ever3'where  despised.     And  this  new  life 
Has  lifted  me  above  all  common  things, 
And  filled  me  with  its  music ;  and  I  feel 
That    far    beyond    our    earthly    days,    and 

death. 
Is   life    and   joy  undreamed  of,  peace  and 

rest. 
My  mother,  —  and  the  Christ  of  Galilee  !  " 
3 


34  tone. 

She  ceased ;   but  none    replied,  —  astonish- 
ment 
Held  all  immovable,  till  Pelope, 
Close  nestling  at  her  shoulder,  heard  a  faint, 
Soft  whisper  in  the   darkness  of  the  room  : 
"  Dear  Lord,  I  have  confessed  thee  !   Oh,  do 

thou 
Remember  me  before  thy  Father's  throne  !  " 

The    high-priest  waited   for   the    old   man's 

word ; 
But  Ctesiphon  sat  still  and  made  no  sign,  — 
His  head  bowed  heavily  upon  his  hand. 
As   if  he   heard   not,    saw  not ;    whereupon 
lone  spoke  again,  with  dignity  : 
"  Thou  hast  the  answer,  priest,  —  a  Christian 

maid 
Disdains  the  service  of  a  heathen  shrine  !  " 

Neocritus  arose  ;    an  angry  flame 

Burned    in    his    face,   and    flickered    in    his 

voice  : 
"  So  be  it,  then  !     Doubtless  thy  words  are 

wise. 


lone.  35 

And  all  the  rest  of  Ephesus  are  fools, 
Pleased  with  a  toy ;   but  yet  I  say  to  thee, 
Beware  the  vengeance  of  the  holy  gods  ! 
The  thunderbolts  of  Zeus  —  " 

Quick,  as  he  spoke, 
A    lightning    flash    that    tore    the    heavens 

wide 
Blazed  full  upon  their  faces,  and  a  crash 
As  if  the  very  hills  were    shattered,  rolled 
And  boomed  around  them.     With  a  startled 

cry 
The  trembling  children  caught  their  sister's 

hands 
And  clung  about  her,  Lesbia  gasping,  "  See  ! 
The  gods  are  angry  at  thy  evil  choice  !  " 
"  Nay,  Lesbia  dear,  fear  not ;  they  have  no 

power 
Either  for  good  or  ill."     Another  flash, 
Another  deafening  peal,  —  and  Marius  stood 
With  folded  arms  and  proud,  uplifted  head 
Between  the  sisters  and  the  haughty  priest. 
And  thus  addressed  him  :   "  If  the  gods  are 

wronged. 
Let  them  avenge  the  insult  as  they  will. 


36  lone. 

Thou    earnest    for    an    answer,   which    thou 

hast; 
What  further  need  is  yet  unsatisfied?" 
"Young  man,"  the  priest  returned,  "what- 
ever else, 
I  need  not  thee  to  prompt  me ;   and  if  thou 
Dost  Hnk  thy  hfe  with  hers,  I  need  not  ask 
For  this  thy  rudeness  greater  recompense. 
I  go,  and  trust  my  meaning  will  be  plain 
Hereafter." 

He  was  gone. 

A  silence  fell 
Upon  them,  deep  and  dread,  their  throb- 
bing hearts 
Filled  with  a  nameless  fear.  Strange  whis- 
perings 
Passed  through  the  air  above,  as  if  the  storm, 
Uncertain  how  to  strike,  were  seeking  out 
Each  point  of  weakness. 

But  lone  marked 
That    through    all   this  her  father  had   not 
moved ; 


lone.  37 

Alarmed  at  length,  she   swiftly  crossed  the 

room 
And   knelt   before    him,  drawing  down  the 

hand 
That  held  his  forehead,  as  she  gently  said, 
"Dear    Father,  art   thou    angry?      Have    I 

done 
So  wrong  in  this?      None  loves  thee  more 

than  I ; 
Look   in  my  face,  and   see  !  "      He   raised 

his  head, 
And   tears  bedimmed  the  eyes  that  looked 

in  hers ; 
A   long,    fond    gaze ;    a    tender,    trembling 

kiss,  — 
"  Could    I    be     angry    with    thy    mother's 

child?" 

"But,  father,  have  I  done  a  fooHsh  thing?" 

"  I  know  not,  dear  one,  save  it  be  not  wise 
To  cross  the  will  of  great  Neocritus, 
As    we    have    done    to-day.      But    for    thy 
faith, 


38  lone. 

Keep    it,  if  thou    art    pleased ;    small   faith 

have  I 
In    aught    beyond    my    present    sight    and 

touch. 
Sit  here,  my  daughter,  till  the  storm  is  past, 
That  I  may  feel  thee  near  me." 

Silently 
The  others  clustered  round  them. 

Far  away 
The  murmuring  voices  of  the  upper  air 
Swelled   to    a   sigh,  a   moan ;    then  with    a 

roar 
Weaving  all  lesser  noises  into  one, 
The    storm   came   rushing  on.      Swiftly  the 

clouds, 
Spreading  their  banners  black,  joined  rank 

to  rank 
And  hurled  at  once  their  javelins  thick  and 

fast,  — 
A  wild,  resistless  avalanche  of  rain  ; 
And     all     the     little     wandering     mountain 

streams 


lone.  39 

Were  swollen  to  foaming  torrents ;  and  the 

trees, 
Lashed  by  the  whirlwind's  fury,  bowed  their 

heads 
And  groaned  submission  to  the  conqueror; 
Fierce  Hghtnings  flashed  incessantly,  and  loud 
The  thunder  spoke  in  awful  majesty 
Unto  the    crouching    earth ;    then  darkness 

deep, 
Like  bird  of  evil  omen,  settled  down, 
With  mighty,  outstretched  wings. 

Within  the  room 
None  spoke  a  word,  till  Marius'  manly  voice 
Startled    their  silence  :    "  Father  Ctesiphon, 
I  know  but  little  of  Tone's  faith. 
And    may  not   guess    the    meaning    of  this 

storm, 
Unless  it  be  a  warning ;    but  I  know 
That  I  have  loved  her  since  our  childhood 

days. 
And  whether  well  or  ill  that  she  has  done. 
And  punishment  or  not,  I  ask  of  her 
The  greatest  gift  that  man  can  ever  ask. 


40  lone. 

I  do  not  fear  the  priest ;    and  if  the  gods 
Should  smite  her  to  the  earth,  my  only  joy 
Would   be   to   die  with  her  in  my  embrace 
As  promised  wife.     If  thou  approvest,  thus 
I  make  request,  despite  the  frown  of  Jove." 

"  Aye,  Marius,  it  is  well,  if  she  consent." 

"lone,  dearest,  it  is  yea, — or  nay?" 

"  Dear    Marius,"   she    began,  with    choking 

voice, 
"  As  kind  and  brave  as  ever  thou  hast  been. 
Didst    thou    not    know    that    I    was    always 

thine  ? 
I  cannot  give  thee  more  than  what  thou  hast ; 
And   yet   thy  life    and    mine    should    never 

join, 
Did  I  not  know  no  evil  would  descend 
On    thy  dear   head    for  aught    that  I  have 

done. 
Father,  thy  blessing?" 

Kneeling  at  his  feet 
They  waited  for  the  words. 


lone.  41 

At  length  he  sighed, — 
"  O    unknown    Powers    that    govern    earth 

and  sky 
And  time  and  Ufe  and  death,  if  ye  exist, 
Be  merciful  !      Be  merciful  to  these 
My  children  !     Grant  them  golden  years  of 

joy, 
With  love  new  springing  at  each  rising  sun, 
And  intertwine  the  threads  of  life  so  close 
That  at  the  last  the  fatal  Severeir 
May   not   divide   them,  —  one    in    life    and 

death  !  " 
A  pause,  and  then  he  said  in  calmer  voice, 
"  The  rain  has  ceased,  my  children ;    let  us 

go 
And    from    the    housetop  watch  the    clouds 
disperse." 

The  fresh,  cool  breezes  fanned  them  in  the 

face. 
Freighted  with  delicate  odors,  as  they  stood 
And  saw  the  scattered  legions  of  the  sky 
Slowly  retiring,  —  some  in  sullen  ranks. 
While  others,  with  a  new  allegiance,  turned 


42  lone. 

And    caught    the    colors    of  the   conquering 

sun, 
Flaming  in  gold  and  crimson ;  and  the  light 
Of  victory  and  peace  lay  over  all 
The    city    and    the    plain.      White    marble 

walls, 
Dripping  with  rain,  reflected  back  the  rays 
As  from  a  mirror ;  groups  of  trees  stood  up 
And     held     aloft     their     foliage,     brilliant 

green,  — 
Great  sheaves  of  showery  emeralds ;  gardens 

fair 
Arose  in  terraces  of  sparkling  grass, 
With  fountains,  gorgeous  flowers  and  gleam- 
ing shrines ; 
Above  them,  palaces  and  lofty  towers 
Climbed    to    a    dizzy   height,  enriched    and 

faced 
With  ivory  and  dazzling  bronze  ;    below, 
Like   burnished  shields,  lay  little  lakes  and 

pools ; 
Westward,  the  harbor  quivered  restlessly, 
A  glowing  topaz ;    here  the  Forum  shone, 
Yonder  the  Stadium  ;  and  the  generous  light 


lone.  43 

Rolled  o'er  the  benches  of  the  Theatre 
A  cataract  of  gold ;    while  in  the  east 
The  Temple  glittered  like  a  mount  of  snow ; 
And  round  about  the  city  curved  the  plain, 
All   gemmed  with  wild-flowers,  as   a  circlet 

bright 
Bent  round   the   fair,  white  arm  of  Loveli- 
ness, — 
Her    shifting,   shimmering    veil  of    thinnest 

mist 
Spread  out,  and  floating,  whispering  to  the 

sky, 
"  Bend    lower    now,  and   take    her ;    she   is 
thine  ! " 

And  Marius,  smiling  as  he  read  the  scene. 
Drew    from    his    tunic's    folds    a    bracelet, 

wrought 
With  intricate  design  of  bird  and  leaf 
And  flower,  jewelled,  flashing  in  the  light. 
Clasped  it  around  lone's  yielding  arm. 
And  bent  his  head   and  kissed  her  on  the 

brows. 
Too  happy  for  a  word,  she  raised  her  face 


44 


loue. 


With   snmmg,  moistened    eyes,  and   tremu- 
lous lips, 
And  answered  him  in  silence. 

Long  they  stood, 
Clasped  in  each  other's  arms. 


The  sunset  paled, 
And  shadows  deepened  slowly  into  night, 
While    one   by   one    the    calm,  bright   stars 

appeared  ; 
And   downward  from   the    deep,  mysterious 

sky, 
Like    perfume    dripping  from   an    upturned 

vase. 
Softly  and  sweet,  descended  balmy  rest. 


lone.  45 


III. 

WIFTLY    the    weeks    and    months 
had  flown  away, 
Till    once    again    the    glad- eyed 
Summer  stood 
Close  at  the  threshold  of  her  kingdom  fair. 
'T  was  early  morning  now  upon  the  plains 
Of  Ephesus.     A  faint,  gray  mist  upcurled 
From  Cayster,  winding  slowly  toward  the  sea 
In  slumbrous  music,  rippled  by  the  breeze 
That  stole  through  groves  of  oak  and  tere- 
binth 
And   cedar,   fresh    and    fragrant.      Meadow 

flowers 
Upraised     their    swaying,    dew-filled     cups, 

and  smiled 
To  the  fast  paling  stars,  as  if  to  say, 
"  O   brothers,  rest,  and  we    will    shine   for 

you  !  " 
From     river    margin    and    the     pearl-hung 
grass 


46 


lone. 


And  oleander  bushes  and  the  woods 
Came    twittering     questions    of    the    day's 

advance, 
While    glowed    the    east    with    promise,  — 

amber  skies 
Yielding  to  orange,  melting  into  gold, 
Till  up  the  gleaming  pathway  came  the  sun 
In  royal  majesty,  and  touched  the  tops 
Of  Prion  and  Coressus,  sister  hills, 
With   magic  fire ;    then,  shooting  swift   and 

far 
His  glittering  arrows,  pierced  the  lingering 

shades. 


The  crisp,  delicious  air  was  vibrant  now 
With    wakening    life,   and    every    feathered 

throat 
'  Poured  out  a  flood  of  golden  melody, 
And  'insects    droned    and    chirped,    while 

flocks  and  herds 
Moved    slowly    toward    the    river    pools    to 

drink. 
Soon  city  gates  were  opened  ]    guards  were 

changed ; 


lone.  47 

Some  few  brown,  sinewy  laborers  appeared 
Upon  the  streets,  with  instruments  of  toil ; 
Sellers  of  fruits  made  ready  for  the  day ; 
Young    flower    girls    began    to    twine    their 

wreaths, 
And  in  an  hour  of  sunrise  all  the  town 
Hummed  with  a  varied  population.      Here, 
Soldiers  in  shining  armor,  shaven  priests, 
And  civil  officers  in  trailing  robes  ; 
There,  Jews  of  Palestine,  or  little  groups 
Of  Grecian  poets  and  philosophers ; 
Ladies  of  rank  in  gilded  litters,  borne 
By  stalwart    men,  who    slowly  pushed   their 

way, 
Elbowing  active  sailors  from  the  coasts 
Of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  or  thin  Bedouins 
From  lonely  Petra  and  the  wilderness ; 
The  dwellers  by  Euphrates  and  the  Nile 
Mixed  with  the  half-clad  Ethiopians  ; 
Princes,    magicians,    keen-eyed    merchants, 

■  chiefs. 
Barbarians   of  the    North,  brought    side  by 

side 
With  temple  servants,  artists,  artisans, 


48  lone. 

Musicians,  perfume-mixers,  burnishers, 
Or  stooping  water-carriers,  patient  beasts 
Of  burden,  and  their  drivers,  —  slaves  of  all 
Degree  and  occupation  crowded  close 
With    poor    and    helpless    ones,  who    idly 

gazed 
Upon  the  busy  scene,  or  feebly  begged 
For  food  and  coins.      The  dwellers  in  the 

town 
Were  far  outnumbered  by  the  visitors 
Drawn  hither  by  the  festival  and  games 
In  honor  of  Diana ;    for  the  sun 
Had  filled  the  season  with  exuberance, 
And  springing  grass  and  flowers  and  waving 

wheat 
And  whispering    leaves    and    opening  buds 

were  held 
To  be  bright  tokens  of  her  wondrous  power 
And  condescension. 

At  the  city  gates 
The    throng    divided,   and    the    larger   part 
Hurried  impatient  to  the  Stadium ; 
Another  company,  with  slower  steps, 


lone.  49 

Passed  in  procession  to  the  Temple,  led 
By    priests    and    priestesses;     fair    Lydian 

youths 
And  maidens,  singing  soft,  voluptuous  airs, 
Mingled  with  merry  Phrygians,  while  here 
Strode  a  Galatian  warrior,  yonder  one 
Of  Cappadocia ;   grave,  gray  devotees 
From  all  the  provinces  of  Asia  moved 
In  strange  varieties  of  dress  and  speech, 
But  with  one  purpose,  —  to  propitiate 
The  goddess  for  their  homes. 

At  length  they  reached 
The  open  plain,  and  knelt  adoringly. 
While  in  full  view  the  mighty  structure  rose. 

A  terraced  way  led  to  a  staircase  broad. 
Polished  and  worn  by  countless  worshippers, 
And  from  the   marble   platform,  smooth  as 

glass, 
An    hundred    columns    reared    their  stately 

strength, 
Massive  and  carved,  full  thirty  cubits  high,  — 
Many  the  gifts  of  kings,  and  others  wrought 


50  lone. 

By  pious  hands  of  masters  in  their  art. 
Far  up,  above  their  graceful  capitals, 
Cornice  and  frieze  and  architrave  spread  out 
Stories  of  strife  and  conquest  mystical. 
Crowned  by  a  roof  of  gleaming  marble  tiles  ; 
And  all  the    building  throbbed  with  sculp- 
tured Hfe, 
Or   glowed  with   splendid   painting ;    calm- 
eyed  gods 
And  goddesses,  or  struggling  Amazons, 
Heroes  and  warriors  ;  Hermes,  mighty  Zeus, 
Or  Pallas,  Her^,  Artemis  herself, 
And  Aphrodite,  Eros  with  his  bow, 
Pdseidon  and  his  trident,  deities 
Of    stream    and    field  *  and    forest ;    satyrs, 

nymphs, 
Or  demigods,  —  as  wondrous  Herakles, 
Strongest  of  mortals.    Here  a  Centaur  stood  ; 
Yonder    came    Tritons     blowing    on    their 

shells ; 
And  all  around  were  lions'  heads,  and  rams. 
And  piled  up  fruit,  mingled  with   opening 

flowers 
And  twining  honeysuckle.     Phidias, 


lone.  51 

Praxiteles,  Apelles,  many  more, 

Masters    and     skilful    workmen;      all    had 

wrought 
With  far-famed  architects,  until  there  stood 
At  Ephesus  the  wonder  of  the  world 
And  envy  of  all  Hellas.     In  the  midst 
The  statue  towered  high,  —  an  image  rude. 
Yet  reverenced   more   than  all  the  glorious 

forms 
By  which  it  was  surrounded.     Even  so 
The  soul  of  man,  reaching  a  barren  height 
Unsatisfied,  had  waited  not,  but  turned. 
And  backward  traced  its  wandering,  doubt- 
ful steps, 
Till  every  higher  faculty  became 
The  handmaid  of  a  lower.      Grand  indeed 
The   Temple    stood,  yet   shrined   a    foolish 

faith ; 
And  even  the  lowest,  meanest  worshipper. 
Trembling,  perhaps,  in  superstitious  fear. 
Had  powers  greater  than  he  gave  his  gods. 

Rising  at  length,  the  multitude  advanced. 
And  hours  were  spent  in  sacrifice  and  rites 


52  lone. 

Mysterious,  —  sacred  dances,  incense,  chants. 
Till  after  mid-day ;  then  the  priests  ap- 
peared. 
With  all  the  temple  servitors  again. 
And  followed  by  the  people,  took  the  road 
That  reached  the  Stadium.  Musicians  first, 
With  ringing  cymbals,  piercing  double-ilutes, 
And  other  instruments ;  then  girls  and  boys, 
Singing    and    dancing,    bearing    fruits    and 

flowers ; 
And  after  them,  Neocritus  alone,  — 
His  thick,  black  hair  uncovered  to  the  sun, 
A  stern,  set  face,  thin  lips,  and  flashing  eyes, 
And  garmented  in  sacrificial  robes. 
With    heavy,    lustrous    folds.      Behind    him 

marched 
The  priests  and    priestesses,   in    ranks   that 

spread 
Across  the  roadway,  chanting  high  and  shrill 
The  hymn  to  Artemis.  And  others  bore 
Aloft  upon  their  shoulders  images 
Of  gold  and  silver  ;  then  the  surging  crowd 
Pressed  forward  shouting,  joined  along  the 
way 


lone.  53 

By  scores  belated,  till  they  reached  the  arch 
Of  entrance  to  the  Stadium. 

Then  at  once 
The  vast  assemblage  rose  tumultuously, 
And  everywhere  were  lifted  arms  and  scarfs, 
And  fluttering  veils,  and  a  great,  throbbing 

roar 
Of  eager  voices  : 

'^Artemis  f' 

"Behold 
Great  Artemis  !  " 

"  Diana  !  " 

"  Artemis  ! 
All  Asia  worships  thee  !  " 

''Diana  I'' 

"  Great 
Is  Artemis  of  Ephesus  !'' 

And  spears 
And  swords  and   shields   responded  with,  a 

clang 
That  seemed  to  shake  the  building.      Only 

one 


54  tone. 

In  all  that  multitude  was  silent,  one 

Who  leaned  against  a  pillar,  faint  and  pale 

In  agony  of  spirit,  —  Marius. 

His  men  had  marvelled  much  to  see  him  ride 
Before  them  on  that  morning  listlessly, 
The  loose  rein  dropping  from  his  nerveless 

hands. 
And  all  unseeing  where  he  went,  his  eyes 
Too  weary  for  a  glance,  his  body  drooped 
In  utter  weakness.     Now  he  stood  alone, 
And    shivered    as    if   sickness    seized    him. 

Why? 

Beneath  his  feet  a  dungeon  lay ;    within, 
Close  crowded  in  the  narrow,  noisome  place. 
Were    Christians ;    all    the    steadfast    little 

church, 
Alcgeus,  —  and  lone  ! 

On  the  day 
The  high-priest  left  the  house  of  Ctesiphon, 
Angered  that  one  slight  girl  should  balk  his 
power, 


lone. 


55 


He  planned  revenge.     A  word  dropped  here 

and  there, 
A  hint  to  artisans,  a  prophecy 
Of  danger  should  the  Christians  multiply 
Again,  as  years  before,  at  words  of  Paul, 
A  warning  that  the  city  might  decline 
If  reverence  for  Artemis  should  fail, 
Had  blown  the  ashes  of  indifference 
Aside  and   fanned  the   slumbering   coals  of 

hate 
Into  a  flame,  till  all  at  once  a  mob 
Rushed  to  Alcseus'  house  in  fury,  dragged 
The  Christians  forth  and  bound  them,  hurry- 
ing back 
To  the  authorities,  clamoring  for  their  death, 
Which,  after  consultation,  was  decreed, 
Pending  permission  of  the  Emperor, 
As  fitting  climax  to  the  festival 
In  preparation. 

Ctesiphon  had  gone 
With  Marius  impetuous  to  the  priest, 
And  offered  gold  and  jewels,  —  anything 
To  save  lone ;    but  of  no  avail 


56  lone. 

Were  all  their  efforts,  —  coldly  he  replied  : 
"Our  Lady  Artemis  desires  the  hearts 
As  well  as  offerings,  and  it  is  her  will 
That    all    who    mock   her   shall    be    put   to 

death ; 
Be  thankful  that  your  lives  are  not  required. 
And  cease  to  ask  for  her  who  dared  despise 
Our  holy  faith  !  ' 

All  hope  was  over  now, 

Unless  she  should  recant ;    but  from  below 

Faintly  the  sound  of  Christian  hymns  arose, 

And  Marius  felt  that  none   of  them  would 

yield. 

No,  never  !     In  that  suffocating  cave, 
Darker  than  midnight,  all  were  kneeling  now. 
Led  by  Alcaeus  in  a  fervent  prayer. 
The    weary    hours    of   day    and    night    had 

passed 
Alike  to  them ;    the  only  light  they  had 
Glared  from  the  lions'  eyes  behind  the  bars ; 
Instead  of  heaven's   sweet  winds  upon  the 

brow^ 


lone.  57 

The  hot  breath  of  their  nostrils ;   and  they 

heard 
In  all  the  pauses  of  the  sacred  song 
Deep   growls    of   hunger.      Grasping    each 

other's  hands 
They   trembled,  —  but    a    consciousness    of 

power 
Beyond  their  own  upheld  them. 

Meanwhile,  games 
Were  going  on  above  ;  the  wrestlers  strove 
And  writhed  for  mastery,  and  athletes  ran. 
As  if  by  Hermes  sandalled,  for  the  crown ; 
The    pugilists,  with   heads    and    necks   like 

bulls, 
Rained   desperate   blows  upon   each  other ; 

then 
Strong  gladiators  struggled  for  their  lives. 
With  swords   and  nets  and  tridents.      And 

their  strife 
Stirred  up  the    people    as  wild   beasts    are 

stirred 
To  savagery  by  the  taste  of  blood. 
And  all  along  the  benches  ran  the  words.  — 


58 


lone. 


A  murmur,  rising  to  an  awful  cry, 

Hoarse  and  persistent,  crueler  than  death, — 

"Bring  out  the  Christians!'''' 

Then  a  space  was  cleared 
And  fenced  with  soldiers,  and  an  altar  placed 
Before  a  statue  of  the  goddess,  wreathed 
About  the  base  with  roses  ;   and  behind 
Were  ranged  the  priestesses,  —  the  Asiarch 
Lysanias  of  Smyrna  in  the  chair 
Of  judgment.      Soon    the    prisoners    were 

brought 
Before  him,  one  by  one,  Alcseus  first. 


The  accusation  read,  Lysanias  asked  : 
"Art  thou  a  Christian?" 

"Yea!" 
"And  dost  thou  know 
The  penalty?" 

"I  do." 

"  What  madness,  man, 
Has  prompted  thee  to  throw  away  thy  life  ? 
Be  reasonable, —  curse  the  Christ ;  that  done, 
I  may  release  thee." 


lone.  59 

"Ay,  thou  dost  not  know 
That   he    who    loses    hfe   for  Christ's  sweet 

sake 
Shall  find  it  more  abundantly.     Thy  power 
And  all  thou  hast  is  given  thee  from  him  !  " 

"Take  him  away." 

And  hurriedly  they  tried 
The  others ;  but  none  yielded.     Last  of  all 
lone  answered  to  the  summons.     Then 
The    high-priest    had    her    father    brought 

within, 
With  Lesbia  and  Pelope,  that  all 
Might  suffer  to  the  utmost,  and  prepared 
To  read  the  grim  indictment. 

But  a  hand 
Seized  hers  in  shaking  grasp,  and  in  her  ear 
Trembled    the    voice    of   Marius,    changed 

and  harsh 
With  deadly  fear,  as  rapidly  he  said  : 
"  lone,  dearest,  listen  !     Leave  the  Christ 
And  call  upon  Diana  !      Take  of  these," — 


6o  lone. 

Catching  some  jewels  from  a  casket  brought 
By  Lesbia,  —  "  these  ornaments  of  thine, 
And  offer  on  her  altar  for  thy  life  ! 
Nay,  take  the  bracelet,  dearest,  for  I  know 
That  I  must  give  thee  up  in  life  or  death ; 
But  oh,  thou  must  not  die!     lone  — " 

"Dear—" 
She    slowly  turned    her   face,  all    wet    with 

tears. 
And  looked  him  in  the  eyes.      The  throng 

around 
Bent  forward  eagerly  to  catch  the  words  : 
"  My  Marius,  dost  thou  tempt  my  soul  with 

these 
To  leave  my  Master,  as  Iscariot  did? 
And  even  if  I  might,  what  should  I  care 
For  any  life  without  thee?     Oh,  my  own. 
Dear  father,  sisters,  friends,  I  love  not  life 
Better  than  truth  !      The   gracious  Christ  I 

serve 
Will    raise    me    up  again.      Let  all  of  you 
Who  love  me  learn   of  him,  and  any  death 
Shall  only  re-unite  us.     Marius, 


lone.  6 1 

Thou  hast  not  dreamed   how  much  I  love 

thee  yet ; 
But  thou  wilt  know  hereafter." 

Down  she  drooped 
Her  weary  head,  and    murmured,    "O    my 

Lord, 
I    thank    thee    for   this    sudden,   wondrous 

strength, 
Made  perfect  in  my  weakness  !  " 

And  a  sigh 
Involuntary  broke  from  all  the  crowd, 
As  the  tense  bowstring,  suddenly  released, 
Springs  to  its  place  with  apprehensive  thrill, 
Foreseeing  death  in  the  arrow.     Ctesiphon 
Groaned  in  despair,  and  wrung  his  helpless 

hands 
Convulsively ;   and  down  the  sisters'  cheeks 
Tears  fell  like  rain.     But  Marius  staggered 

back, 
Weak  as  a  child,  and  would  have  fallen  to 

earth 
Had  not  a  soldier  stayed  him. 


62  lone. 

Then  the  priest, 
Unmoved,  began  to  read  the  charge.     But 

she  — 
Lifting  her  violet  eyes  above  the  throng, 
Above  the  circUng  thousands  in  the  seats, 
Along  the  side  of  green  Coressus,  up 
Beyond     the     trilling,    soaring     birds  —  at 

length 
Rested  in  God's  blue  sky,  while  all  of  earth 
Seemed  to  dissolve  away.      Slowly  a  vision 

sweet 
Opened  before  her. 

For  a  pearly  cloud 
That    closed    one    gate    of    heaven    rolled 

aside, 
And  a  bright  spirit  beckoned  her  within,  — 
The  mother's  face  and  form ;    but  glorious 

now 
In    such   a   smile    as    those  redeemed    may 

wear  ! 
Then,  while    the    glad    sight    filled    lone's 

gaze, 
And  scarce  a  breath  escaped  the  parted  lips. 


hue.  63 

Her  hands  close  locked,  in  rapture  keen  as 

pain, 
Suddenly  all  the  avenue  was  filled 
With   countless    flashing    ones,    that    raised 

their  harps 
And  sang  triumphantly,  "  Ay,  blest  are  they, 
The  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  their 

God!'' 
And    others    answered    them    afar,   "  These 

came 
Out  of  great  tribulation,  and  their  robes 
Are  white  and  glistefiifig ;    they  are  washed 

in  blood. 
Even  the  Lamb's,  who  bears  away  the  sin 
Of  all  the  world/" 

And  then  a  splendor  burned. 
Dazzling   the  wing-veiled    angels;    but   she 

saw. 
Even  with  eyelids  closed,  the  form  of  One 
Like   to  the   Son  of  Man,  with  hands  and 

feet 
Pierced  by  the  cross-nails ;  and  his  thrilling 

voice 


64  loiie. 

Rang  full  and  tender  as  the  far,  sweet  chime 
Of  silver  cymbals : 

"  Be  thou  not  afraid 
Of  them  that  kill  the   body,  and   after 

THAT 

Have  power  to  do  no  more,  —  fear  not, 

MY    CHILD  ; 
I    AM    THE    resurrection    AND    THE    LIFE, 

And  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise 
To-day  ! " 

The  Asiarch,  wondering  at  her  face. 
Thrice  questioned  ere  she  heard  him ;  then 

she  said, 
"Yea,  I  am  ready  !  "  So  they  led  her  out,  — 
The  rude,  imbruted  Ethiopian  slaves 
Awe-struck    and    trembling    at    her    confi- 
dence, — 
And  from  the  arena's  sands  of  bloody  death, 
She,  with  a  score  of  others,  entered  Life, 


n 


lone.  65 

Beneath  the  dust  of  centuries  there  Ues 
A   sculptured    tomb    of  marble,  with   these 

words 
Engraved    upon    the    pavement :    "  In   this 

PLACE 

Sleeps  in  the   peace  of  Jesus  Christ  the 

DUST 

Of  Ctesiphon  and  Ione,  side  by  side, 
Father  and  daughter. 

"  Blessed  are  the  dead 
Whose  death  is  in  the  Lord  ;    they  rest 

from  strife, 
And  their  works  follow  them. 

"This  tomb  was  built 
By  Marius,  a  minister  of  Christ." 


■^^^•^