"And thou didst keep this from thy brethren?"
"Yea...."
And she utters in a barely audible voice:
"Attar of roses hath so goodly a smell!"
The king caressingly strokes her little rough hand.
"Surely, thou must be lonesome, all alone in thy vineyard?"
"Nay, I work, I sing.... At noon food is brought me, and at evening one of my brothers relieves me. At times I dig for the roots of the mandragora, that look like little mannikins.... The Chaldaean merchants buy them from us. It is said they make a sleeping potion out of them....
Tell me, is it true that the berries of the mandragora help in love?"
"Nay, Sulamith, only love can help in love. Tell me, hast thou a father or a mother?"
"Only a mother. My father died two years ago. My brethren are all older than I,--they are from the first marriage; only my sister and I have sprung from the second."
"Is thy sister as comely as thou?"
"She is little. She is but nine."
The king laughs quietly, embraces Sulamith, draws her to him, and whispers into her ear:
"Therefore, she hath no such breast as thine? A breast as proud, as warm?..."
She is silent, burning with shame and happiness. Her eyes glow and grow dim, with the mist of a happy smile over them. The king feels the riotous beating of her heart within his hand.
"The warmth of thy garments hath a goodlier smell than myrrh, than nard," he is saying, avidly touching her ear with his lips. "And when thou breathest, the smell of thy nostrils is like that of apples unto me. My sister, my beloved, thou hast ravished my heart with one glance of thy eyes, with one chain of thy neck."
"O, gaze not upon me!" implores Sulamith. "Thine eyes stir me."
But of her own accord she bends backward and lays her head upon Solomon"s breast. Her lips glow over the gleaming teeth, her eyelids tremble with intense desire. Solomon"s lips cling greedily to her enticing mouth. He feels the flame of her lips and the slipperiness of her teeth, and the sweet moistness of her tongue; and he is all consumed of an unbearable desire, such as he has never yet known in his life.
Thus pa.s.ses one minute; then two.
"What dost thou with me!" says Sulamith faintly, closing her eyes.
But Solomon pa.s.sionately whispers near her very mouth:
"Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb; honey and milk are under thy tongue.... O, come away with me, speedily. Here, behind the wall, it is dark and cool. None shall see us. The green is soft here underneath the cedars."
"Nay, nay, leave me. I desire it not, I can not."
"Sulamith ... thou dost desire it, thou dost desire it.... Come to me, my sister, my beloved!"
Some one"s steps resound below, upon the highway, below the wall of the vineyard, but Solomon detains the frightened girl by her hand.
"Tell me, quickly,--where dwellest thou? This night shall I come to thee,"
he is hurriedly saying.
"Nay, nay, nay ... I shall not tell thee this. Let me go. I shall not tell thee."
"I shall not let thee go, Sulamith, till thou dost tell.... My desire is unto thee!"
"It is well, I shall tell thee.... But first promise not to come this night.... Also, come thou not the following night ... nor the night after that ... My king! I charge thee by the roes and the hinds of the field, that thou stir not up thy beloved till she please!"
"Yea, I pledge thee this.... Where is thy dwelling, Sulamith?"
"If on the way to the city thou dost pa.s.s over the Kidron, upon the bridge above Siloam, thou shalt see our dwelling nigh the spring.
There are no other dwellings there."
"And which is thy window there, Sulamith?"
"Why shouldst thou know this, beloved? O, gaze not thus upon me. Thy gaze casts a spell over me.... Do not kiss me.... Beloved, kiss me again...."
"But which is thy window, my only one?"
"The window on the south side. Ah, I must not tell thee this.... A small, high window with a lattice."
"And doth the lattice open from within?"
"Nay, it is a fixed window. But around the corner is a door. It leads directly into the room where I sleep with my sister. But thou hast promised me!... My sister sleeps lightly. O, how fair art thou, my beloved! Truly, hast thou not promised?"
Solomon quietly smoothes her hair and cheeks.
"I shall come to thee this night," he says insistently. "At midnight I shall come. Thus, thus shall it be. I desire it."
"Beloved!"
"Nay. Thou shalt await me. But have no fear, and put thy trust in me. I shall cause thee no grief. I shall give thee such joy compared with which all things upon earth are without significance. Now farewell. I hear them coming after me."
"Farewell, my beloved ... O, nay, go not yet! Tell me thy name,--I know it not."
For a moment, as though undecided, he lowers his lashes, but immediately raises them again.
"The King and I have the same name. I am called Solomon. Farewell. I love thee."
CHAPTER FIVE
V.
Radiant and joyous was Solomon upon this day, as he sat upon his throne in the hall of the House at Lebanon and meted out justice to the people who came before him.