Book II

THE GREAT CITY

I

THE Â-IBUR-SABÛ

As the first yellow streaks of the false dawn paled in the east on this morning of the eleventh of June, the city of Babylon awoke. And by the time that Shamash had come forth from the world beyond the Euphrates, the city streets were alive with men, women, and animals. An hour later these were fixed in two long phalanxes, twenty rows deep, on either side of the Â-Ibur-Sabû--King Nebuchadrezzar's sacred way, that stretched, from the gate of Bel on the south side of the city, northward as far as the sanctuary of Istar. Half-way along its course this street, or boulevard, ran through the great square of the gods, that was to-day the centre of interest; for here, upon the right hand and upon the left, were the temples of Nebo and Nergal, whose feast-day this was. The great religious procession of gods and men was to pass from the second monastery of Zicarî southward across the canal of the Ukhatû to the temple of Istar, where they would enter upon the Â-Ibur-Sabû, and so pass directly down to the temples where the sacrifice was to be conducted by the high-priests of the temples of Bel, of Marduk, of Nebo, and of Nergal, in the presence of the Lady Istar, the gods her brothers, the king of Babylon, and the king's son. The day was an annual holiday in the city, whose three million inhabitants were now, apparently, every one of them struggling to obtain the best position on the Â-Ibur-Sabû, just at the entrance of the square of the gods.

The noise in this part of the city was such as only a vast, good-natured crowd can make. They pushed and elbowed, and indulged in guttural altercations that commanded too speedy mirth from by-standers ever to result in an actual quarrel. Frequently a commoner, driving his bullock-cart down some side street towards the main thoroughfare, would be hauled from his place to see his vehicle led back to a distant point. Men and women on donkeys, however, were permitted to trot on unmolested; for the little, mouse-colored creatures found a passage where their riders would have been wholly at fault. Now and then a drove of goats passed down the sacred way in a cloud of dust, their owner doing a thriving business in the way of selling milk from his animals to the thirsty throng. Venders of eggs, ready-cooked grain, fresh water, fruits, and sweetmeats added their long-drawn, half-incomprehensible cries to the general clamor; while at frequent intervals a squad of cavalry or the chariot of a nobleman clattered along the Â-Ibur, causing the people to scurry from beneath their hoofs, but never making the slightest move to draw up for unfortunates.

The sun rose higher, and the heat grew stifling. Water-sellers emptied their skins so rapidly that the liquid had no time to cool by evaporation before it was taken, in its tepid, nauseous state. The morning was well advanced. Children began to cry with fatigue, and men and women alike became impatient for the procession. But by the time Charmides reached the temple of Nebo there was still no sign of its approach.

The Greek had slept late, under the shadow of the great wall; and when he awoke the sun was well up, Hodo was nowhere to be seen, and the rébit was empty of those that had passed the night there. Charmides arose with a very hasty prayer to Apollo, performed some ablutions at the public well, and then, his heart beating high with long-delayed curiosity, passed the gate and went into the Great City.

He entered directly upon the Â-Ibur-Sabû; and the distance from the gate to the square of the gods was not great. Plenty of people were moving in the direction of the temples, and presently the rhapsode, a little bewildered with their number, wholly interested in their appearance, halted on the right hand of the street, beside a building, to watch those around him for a little while. He remained at his vantage-point for some time, regarding with interested eyes all that passed. Finally, however, the sight of a young girl, tall, lithe, straight, with brilliant eyes and dark skin, brought him back with a start to his great object, the quest of Istar. In passing, the girl flashed an impudent little smile at him, and on impulse he ran forward, to ask her in his own way how to reach the temple of the goddess. Whether by instinct, intuition, or divine Providence, the girl understood what he said; but her quick answer was unintelligible to him, and he had only her gesture to go by. That, however, commanded him to keep to the north, and he started eagerly forward in that direction.

Fifteen minutes' rapid walking brought him to the edge of the dense crowd that bordered the square of the gods. Here the people bewildered him. He felt the heat intensely, and, incidentally, had become both thirsty and hungry. There was food and drink enough on all sides of him for sale; but the youth felt disinclined to offer a piece of his Sicilian money in exchange for a breakfast; not on account of any penurious notions, but because, utterly ignorant as he was of Babylonish coinage, he dreaded Babylonish curiosity or the ridicule that might be expressed on presentation of such foreign coins as he had. Therefore he wavered on the outer edge of the crowd, chafing with impatience, extremely uncomfortable, and still afraid to make known his needs. The throng was dense, and the Greek by no means tall enough to see over the many heads in front of him. Therefore whatever might be going on in the square beyond was quite hidden from his view. Presently he trod, by mistake, upon the fringed tunic of a man beside him. Turning to offer an apology, his eyes suddenly fell upon a face that seemed familiar--so familiar that he made an effort to remember where he had seen it before.

After all, it proved to be only the little goat-girl who had been in the rébit on the previous evening. This time, however, the child saw him; and she seemed to find something in his face that kept her eyes riveted on his for a long moment, and then sent them drooping, till he could see the pretty, olive lids and the long, black lashes; while at the same time a wave of crimson swept up and over her face. Then Charmides discovered that, after all, he knew something of women. He felt at once that from this girl there would be no ridicule for him. The goat was still with her; and, as he went quickly to her side, he perceived, round the creature's neck, a metal cup on a string, the purpose of which vessel he was not slow to guess.

The girl waited for Charmides, and pushed her goat away for him with evident pleasure. As he halted, her big eyes were upraised, and her look travelled ingenuously from his sunlit hair over his burned face down to his roughly sandalled feet. Then she watched him open the little money-bag that he had drawn from his bundle. From it he extracted a silver piece, stamped with the parsley sprig of Selinous, and, holding it out to her, he pointed from the cup on the goat to his own lips and then back to the animal again. The business was done. Baba, disregarding the proffered money, knelt down beside the docile animal and obtained Charmides' belated breakfast with a practised hand.

Charmides drank the warm milk with relish, and, the cup emptied, placed his coin inside it and returned it to the girl. She took it with a shy smile, that suddenly vanished when she perceived the silver. Picking up the coin, she examined it for some seconds. Then, while Charmides looked on uneasily, Baba opened a pouch at her side, extracted therefrom a handful of small, copper disks, and held them out to the Greek, saying something to him at the same time. He shook his head and smiled at her as he accepted them. They were all alike: little scraps of stamped copper, which he afterwards learned to be _se_, the smallest of the Babylonish coins.

The chief matter of the moment thus satisfactorily concluded, the Greek lingered still at Baba's side, debating on the advisability of questioning her further. She seemed not disinclined to conversation, and as he glanced at her furtively he found her eyes again fixed upon his face. He answered the look, and then, with the usual effort, said, in the thick way of the Babylonians, the one word:

"Ishtar."

Baba appeared to understand him at once. "Belit will come to the square of the gods and the temples there in the sacred procession," she said, pointing at the same time to the north along the Â-Ibur-Sabû.

Charmides understood the gesture, not the words; and, thanking her in his own language, he left her, not without a vague hope that he might find her again some time. As he strode away he did not know how longingly Baba's eyes followed him; how for a few steps she crept after him, this new god with the hair of gold, and how at length, abashed by the thought of her own boldness, she sat down beside her goat and addressed a fervent prayer to Lady Istar to send peace to her thoughts.

Meantime the object of this homage was hurrying down a narrow street that ran westward; and, having a good notion of localities and distance, he succeeded in skirting the crowd on the square without much difficulty, and in reaching the Â-Ibur-Sabû again a little farther to the north. Here, indeed, the throng seemed denser than ever; and here, as Charmides now guessed, Istar herself would come in procession with the gods and priests this very morning--nay, within the hour. With the thought his heart beat furiously, his throat grew dry, and his eyes were