Changeling, and Other Stories 39 – Byrne · Verses Across
Literature · Crime, Thrillers & Mystery
Changeling, and Other Stories 39Part 7 · Chapter 3
18
Literature · Crime, Thrillers & Mystery
Changeling, and Other Stories 39
Part 7 · Chapter 3
ByrneEnglish
She was in no wise impressed, somehow, by his ceremonial officers. They lacked dignity and were familiar. Nor did Solomon's great captains please her. They were not fighters; they were strategists. They played with companies as the Persians played chess with pawns. Her own men were her ideal of soldiers, copper-colored, muscled like panthers; they would crash into an opposing army like their native lightning, or they would die doggedly, their backs to the wall, their heads broken, the blood streaming into their eyes.... Nor did all the magnificence of the king's house please her.... There was too much, too quickly acquired, and jumbled, no composition. The Egyptians had more magnificent things, and grouped them better. Her eyes flickered from the hall to the pale young king on his throne. Beside him, standing, was Nathan, the principal officer, and the king's friend, a great frame of a man, fanatical. And there was silence.
"I am Balkis, Queen of Sheba," she said and threw back her veil. Solomon cast an uneasy glance at the prophet by his side.
"She is come to prove you with hard questions," Nathan spoke.
For an instant Balkis all but laughed. Behind her stood her fighting men, in exact ranks, rather contemptuous. Around the hall the men of Judah and Israel fluttered. Winked at, nudged one another. "From Abyssinia she comes, to ask him questions. See what a king we have! A great people, we!" It was so like a showman with a marvel to exhibit! "Ask him, ask him anything you like. Go on. Ask him." The cadaverous prophet! The white, young king. A swift stab of pathos went into Sheba's heart. Poor lad! Poor king! Poor mummer!
She smiled in the corner of her veil. She was supposed to ask questions, he to answer them. Well, let the mummery go on!
"O King," her voice rang out, "what is sweeter than honey?"
"The love of pious children."
"O King, what is sharper than poison?"
"The tongue."
"O King, what is the pleasantest of days?"
"The day of profit on merchandise."
"O King, what is the debt the most stubborn debtor denies not?"
"The debt is death."
"O King, what is death in life?"
"It is poverty."
"O King, what is the disease that may not be healed?"
"It is evil nature."
She was rather ashamed for herself and for him, and her great Ethiopians were puzzled. But it was so evident that the poor white king's hold on his people was this trick of wisdom. She must help him. She remembered quickly what history she knew of his folk.
"O King," she asked, "what woman was born of man alone?"
"Eve was born of Adam."
"O King, what spot of lowland is it upon which the sun shone once, but will never again shine until judgment-day?"
"The bottom of the Red Sea, which clave asunder for Moses. Then the sun shone on the bottom and will never again shine until judgment-day."
"O King, what thing was it whose first state was wood and whose last life?"
"The rod of Aaron, which became a writhing serpent."
She spread her slim copper hands, she bowed her sleek black head, as in homage.
"It was a true report that I heard in mine own land of thy acts and of thy wisdom.
"Howbeit I believed not the words, until I came and mine eyes had seen it, and behold the half was not told me; thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the fame which I heard.
"Happy are thy men, happy are these thy servants which stand continually before thee and that hear thy wisdom!"
And all through the king's hall went the flutter of his subjects: "Did n't I tell you? Did n't we say so? A fine king we 've got. All the way from Abyssinia she came to prove him. And he answered her everything. A great king! A fine king! Make no mistake!"
She moved toward the troubled young king with a smile.
"I would now commune with you on what is in my heart, great Solomon. Let us commune alone."
His eyes probed her. He saw her kindliness to him. A fleeting little smile answered her smile. He rose to meet her. The giant prophet caught him by the wrist.
"My son, attend unto my wisdom," he whispered fiercely....
"The lips of a strange woman drop as a honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil.
"But her end is bitter as wormwood--"
She caught his whispered words, and her proud head went up, her sloe-black eyes flashed.
"I am Balkis, Queen of Sheba."
For an instant they regarded each other with hatred in their eyes. Sheba turned.
"Men," she called to her bodyguard.
The slim brown Ethiopes tensed their statue-like pose. There was a swish as the short Abyssinian swords came from the oxhide scabbards.
"But I said nothing of you, great Balkis," Nathan suddenly fawned. "I spoke only of bad women. You are a good woman, Balkis, a virtuous woman. And a virtuous woman is like a crown, great Balkis, of gold, yea of fine gold--"
