Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
No word of this conversation had escaped Melissa. She learned nothing
new from it, but it affected her deeply.
Warm-hearted as she was, she fully realized the debt of gratitude she
owed to the lady Euryale; and she could not blame the high-priest, whom
prudence certainly compelled to close his doors against her. And yet she
was wounded by his words. She had struggled so hard in these last days
to banish all thought of her own happiness, and shield her dear ones from
harm, that such selfishness appeared doubly cruel to her. Did it not
seem as if this priest of the great Deity to whom she had been taught to
pray, cared little what became of his nearest relatives, so long as he
and his wife were unmolested? That was the opposite of what Andreas had
praised as the highest duty, the last time she had walked with him to the
ferry; and since then Johanna had told her the story of Christ's
sufferings, and she understood the fervor with which the freedman had
spoken of the crucified Son of God--the great example of all
unselfishness.
In the enthusiasm of her warm young heart she felt that what she had
heard of the Christians' teacher was beautiful, and that she too would
not find it hard to die for those she loved.
With drooping head Euryale re-entered the room, and gazed with kind,
anxious eyes into the girl's face, as if asking her forgiveness.
Following the impulse of her candid heart, Melissa threw her fair young
arms round the aged lady, and, to her great surprise, after kissing her
warmly on brow and mouth and eyes, cried in tones of tender entreaty:
"Forgive me. I did not want to listen, and yet I could not choose but
hear. No word of your discourse escaped me. I know now that I must not
fly, and that I must bear whatever fate the gods may send me. I used
often to say to myself, 'Of how little importance is my life or my
happiness!' And now that I must give up my lover, come what may I care
not what the future has in store for me. I can never forget Diodoros;
and, when I think that everything is at an end between us, it is as if my
heart were torn in pieces. But I have found out, in these last days,
what heavy troubles one may bear without breaking down. If my flight is
to bring danger, if not death and ruin, upon so many good people, I had
better stay. The man who lusts after me--it is true, when I think of his
embrace my blood runs cold! But perhaps I shall be able to endure even
that. And then--if I crush my heart into silence, and renounce Diodoros
forever, and give myself up to Caesar--as I must--tell me you will not
then close your doors against me, but that I may stay with you till the
horrid hour comes when Caracalla calls me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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