“From the richest fare my heart went away empty, and after the wildest banquet my soul fell drunk and solitary into sleep.

“Then I thought, Power is better than pleasure.  If a man will feast and revel let him do it with the great.  They will favor him, and raise him up for the service that he renders them.  He will obtain place and authority in the world and gain many friends.  So I joined myself to Herod.”

When the sad shepherd spoke this name his listeners drew back front him as if it were a defilement to hear it.  They spat upon the ground and cursed the Idumean who called himself their king.

“A slave!” Jotham cried, “a bloody tyrant and a slave from Edom!  A fox, a vile beast who devours his own children!  God burn him in Gehenna.”

The old Zadok picked up a stone and threw it into the darkness, saying slowly, “I cast this stone on the grave of the Idumean, the blasphemer, the defiler of the Temple!  God send us soon the Deliverer, the Promised One, the true King of Israel!” Ammiel made no sign, but went on with his story.

“Herod used me well,-for his own purpose.  He welcomed me to his palace and his table, and gave me a place among his favorites.  He was so much my friend that he borrowed my money.  There were many of the nobles of Jerusalem with him, Sadducees, and proselytes from Rome and Asia, and women from everywhere.  The law of Israel was observed in the open court, when the people were watching.  But in the secret feasts there was no law but the will of Herod, and many deities were served but no god was worshipped.  There the captains and the princes of Rome consorted with the high-priest and his sons by night; and there was much coming and going by hidden ways.  Everybody was a borrower or a lender, a buyer or a seller of favors.  It was a house of diligent madness.  There was nothing in it.

“In the midst of this whirling life a great need of love came upon me and I wished to hold some one in my inmost heart.

“At a certain place in the city, within closed doors, I saw a young slave-girl dancing.  She was about fifteen years old, thin and supple; she danced like a reed in the wind; but her eyes were weary as death, and her white body was marked with bruises.  She stumbled, and the men laughed at her.  She fell, and her mistress beat her, crying out that she would fain be rid of such a heavy-footed slave.  I paid the price and took her to my dwelling.

“Her name was Tamar.  She was a daughter of Lebanon.  I robed her in silk and broidered linen.  I nourished her with tender care so that beauty came upon her like the blossoming of an almond tree; she was a garden enclosed, breathing spices.  Her eyes were like doves behind her veil, her lips were a thread of scarlet, her neck was a tower of ivory, and her breasts were as two fawns which feed among the lilies.  She was whiter than milk, and more rosy than the flower of the peach, and her dancing was like the flight of a bird among the branches.  So I loved her.