Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Hadrian, Emperor of Rome, 76-138 -- Fiction
But their prayers were brief, for the tumult came nearer and nearer;
Apollodorus wrung his hands, and struck his fist against his forehead;
his movements were violent--spasmodic. Terror had entirely robbed him of
the elegant, measured demeanor which be had acquired among his Greek
fellow-citizens, and mingling heathen oaths and adjurations with appeals
to the God of his fathers, he flew first one way and then another. He
searched for the key of the subterranean rooms of the house, but he could
not find it, for it was in the charge of his steward, who, with all the
other servants, was taking his pleasure in the streets, or over a
brimming cup in some tavern.
Now the newly-purchased kitchen-slave--the Jew to whom the keeping of the
Dionysian feast was an abomination--rushed into the room shrieking out,
as he plucked at his hair and beard:
"The Philistines are upon us! save us Rabbi, great Rabbi! Cry for us
to the Lord, oh! man of God! They are coming with staves and spears and
they will tread us down as grass and burn us in this house like the
locusts cast into the oven."
In deadly terror he threw himself at Gamaliel's feet and clasped them in
his hands, but Apollodorus exclaimed: "Follow me, follow me up on to the
roof."
"No, no," howled the slave, "Amalek is making ready the firebrand to
fling among our tents. The heathen leap and rage, the flames they are
flinging will consume us. Rabbi, Rabbi, call upon the Hosts of the Lord!
God of the just! The gate has given way. Lord! Lord! Lord!"
The terrified wretch's teeth chattered and he covered his eyes with his
hands, groaning and howling.
Ben Jochai had remained perfectly calm, but he was quivering with rage.
His prayer was ended, and turning to Gamaliel he said in deep tones:
"I knew that this would happen, I warned you. Our evil star rose when we
set forth on our wanderings.
"Now we must abide patiently what the Lord hath determined. He will be
our Avenger."
"Vengeance is His!" echoed the old man, and he covered his head with his
white mantle.
"In the sleeping-room--follow me! we can hide under the beds!" shrieked
Apollodorus; he kicked away the slave who was embracing the Rabbi's feet,
and seized the old man by the shoulder to drag him away with him. But it
was too late, for the door of the antechamber had burst open and they
could hear the clatter of weapons. "Lost, lost, all is lost!" cried
Apollodorus.
"Adonai! help us Adonai!" murmured the old man and he clung more closely
to his nephew, who overtopped him by a head and who held him clasped in
his right arm as if to protect him.
The danger which threatened Apollodorus and his guests was indeed
imminent, and it had been provoked solely by the indignation of the
excited mob at seeing the wealthy Israelite's house unadorned for the
feast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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