Religious disputations -- Fiction; Short stories, Australian
"Look at me!" he shrilled in a falsetto voice. "Look at me, little
Princess! Who will say that jugglery is not the supreme art? Verily, it
is the art of arts! The poet does but juggle with words, yet he does not
preserve so perfect a rhythm. Mekerah's verses are lame, but mine
oranges do not halt; they dance in the air with the grace of a little
Princess who dances in silver slippers before the throne of her father.
The High-priest Bagoas juggles with theories; the Great King juggles
with the fears and passions of his subjects; the gods juggle with our
poor world, but I juggle with mine oranges. It is the same thing. Look
at me, little Princess, look at me!"
He swallowed the fragments of oranges as they descended, and then the
sword.
"Uzal, you will make yourself sick," said Candace, "and my maids will
have to tend you."
The juggler stood on his head and juggled with his feet.
"Truly, my lord," said Bagoas, "the juggler of the Princess has good
reason for what he says: in a sense we are all jugglers."
But the King was thinking of other things, and after a moment lifted his
head.
"Have you considered the Princess Candace, how she grows?" he enquired
of the High-priest.
"She is like a flower," answered Bagoas. "She is like a silver lily
opening its petals to the sun. She grows like a flower that the dew
falls upon, and her dreams are like dew."
"A few days ago she was a child, a few days more and she will be a
woman. It is time that she were married; but that man whom she marries
will be King after that I am dead, and I do not wish to hasten my
death."
"She is young to go down into the cave of Ishtar," said Bagoas; "she
would tremble when the last torch was extinguished; she would cry aloud
when her husband came to her out of that darkness. Have you considered
one worthy to be her husband, O King?"
"There is no one," answered Merodach. "The children of my wives are all
girls, and the sons of my slaves are brawlers; men whose words are
wind."
"Have you considered the son of thy cousin, Na'amah? He is sixteen years
old, and has the heart of a lion. He is like a young lion in his first
strength. I have been the governor of his childhood, and in his heart
there is no guile."
"We shall consider him," said Merodach. "Beyond are the hills of Eden."
"If we follow the course of the river we shall come to Adam's garden."
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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