The interior of the temple was lighted with innumerable lamps, suspended
from the ceiling, of bronze and of the simplest workmanship, like
everything which pertained to the worship of Auramazda. In the midst,
upon a small altar of black stone, stood a bronze brazier, shaped like a
goblet, wherein a small fire of wood burned quietly, sending up little
wreaths of smoke, which spread over the flat ceiling and hung like a
mist about the lamps; before the altar lay a supply of fuel--fine,
evenly-cut sticks of white pine-wood, piled in regular order in a
symmetrical heap. At one extremity of the oblong hall stood a huge
mortar of black marble, having a heavy wooden pestle, and standing upon
a circular base, in which was cut a channel all around, with an opening
in the front from which the Haoma juice poured out abundantly when the
fresh milkweed was moistened and pounded together in the mortar. A
square receptacle of marble received the fluid, which remained until it
had fermented during several days, and had acquired the intoxicating
strength for which it was prized, and to which it owed its sacred
character. By the side of this vessel, upon a low marble table, lay a
huge wooden ladle; and two golden cups, short and wide, but made smaller
in the middle like a sand-glass, stood there also.
At the opposite end of the temple, before a marble screen which shielded
the doorway, was placed a great carved chair of ebony and gold and
silver, raised upon a step above the level of the floor.
It was already dark when the king entered the temple, dressed in his
robes of state, with his sword by his side, his long sceptre tipped with
the royal sphere in his right hand, and the many-pointed crown upon his
head. His heavy black beard had grown longer in the three years that had
passed, and flowed down over his vest of purple and white half-way to
his belt. His face was stern, and the deep lines of his strong features
had grown more massive in outline. With the pride of every successive
triumph had come also something more of repose and conscious power. His
step was slower, and his broad brown hand grasped the golden sceptre
with less of nervous energy and more unrelenting force. But his brows
were bent, and his expression, as he took his seat before the screen,
over against the altar of the fire, was that of a man who was prepared
to be discontented and cared little to conceal what he felt.
After him came the chief priest, completely robed in white, with a
thick, white linen sash rolled for a girdle about his waist, the fringed
ends hanging stiffly down upon one side. Upon his head he wore a great
mitre, also of white linen, and a broad fringed stole of the same
material fell in two wide bands from each side of his neck to his feet.
His beard was black and glossy, fine as silk, and reached almost to his
waist. He came and stood with his back to the king and his face to the
altar, ten paces from the second fire.
Then, from behind the screen and from each side of it, the other priests
filed out, two and two, all clad in white like the chief priest, save
that their mitres were smaller and they wore no stole. They came out and
ranged themselves around the walls of the temple, threescore and nine
men, of holy order, trained in the ancient chanting of the Mazdayashnian
hymns; men in the prime and strength of life, black-bearded and
broad-shouldered, whose massive brows and straight features indicated
noble powers of mind and body.
The two who stood nearest to the chief priest came forward, and taking
from his hands a square linen cloth he bore, bound it across his mouth
and tied it behind his neck in a firm knot by means of strings. Then,
one of them put into his left hand a fan of eagles' feathers, and the
other gave him a pair of wrought-iron pincers. Then they left him to
advance alone to the altar.
He went forward till he was close to the bronze brazier, and stooping
down, he took from the heap of fuel a clean white stick, with the
pincers, which he carefully laid upon the fire. Then with his left hand
he gently fanned the flames, and his mouth being protected by the linen
cloth in such a manner that his breath could not defile the sacred fire,
he began slowly and in a voice muffled by the bandage he wore, to recite
the beginning of the sacrificial hymn:
_"Best of all goods is purity.
Glory, glory to him
Who is best and purest in purity.
For he who ruleth from purity, he abideth according
to the will of the Lord.
The All-Wise giveth gifts for the works which man
doeth in the world for the Lord.
He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to Ahura."_[9]
[Footnote 9: Probably the oldest hymns in the Avesta language.]
Then all the priests repeated the verses together in chorus, their
voices sounding in a unison which, though not precisely song, seemed
tending to a musical cadence as the tones rose and fell again upon the
last two syllables of each verse. And then again, the chief priest and
the other priests together repeated the hymn, many times, in louder and
louder chorus, with more and more force of intonation; till the chief
priest stepped back from the fire, and delivering up the pincers and the
fan, allowed the two assistants to unbind the cloth from his mouth.
He walked slowly up the temple on the left side, and keeping his right
hand toward the altar, he walked seven times around it, repeating a hymn
alone in low tones; till, after the seventh time, he went up to the
farther end of the hall, and stood before the black marble trough in
which the fermented Haoma stood ready, having been prepared with due
ceremony three days before.
Then, in a loud voice, he intoned the chant in praise of Zaothra and
Bareshma, holding high in his right hand the bundle of sacred stalks;
which he, from time to time, moistened a little in the water from a
vessel which stood ready, and sprinkled to the four corners of the
temple. The priests again took up the strain in chorus, repeating over
and over the burden of the song.
_"Zaothra, I praise thee and desire thee with praise!
Bareshma, I praise thee and desire thee with praise!
Zaothra, with Bareshma united, I praise you
and desire you with praise!
Bareshma, with Zaothra united, I praise you and
desire you with praise!"_
Suddenly the chief priest laid down the Bareshma, and seizing one of the
golden goblets, filled it, with the wooden ladle, from the dark
receptacle of the juice. As he poured it high, the yellow light of the
lamp caught the transparent greenish fluid, and made it sparkle
strangely. He put the goblet to his lips and drank.
The king, sitting in silence upon his carved throne at the other
extremity of the temple, bent his brows in a dark frown as he saw the
hated ceremony begin. He knew how it ended, and grand as the words were
which they would recite when the subtle fluid had fired their veins, he
loathed to see the intoxication that got possession of them; and the
frenzy with which they howled the sacred strains seemed to him to
destroy the solemnity and dignity of a hymn, in which all that was
solemn and high would otherwise have seemed to be united.
The chief priest drank and then, filling both goblets, gave them to the
priests at his right and left hand; who, after drinking, passed each
other, and made way for those next them; and so the whole number filed
past the Haoma vessel and drank their share till they all had changed
places, and those who had stood upon the right, now stood upon the left;
and those who were first upon the left hand, were now upon the right.
And when all had drunk, the chief priest intoned the great hymn of
praise, and all the chorus united with him in high, clear tones:
_"The All-Wise Creator, Ahura Mazda, the greatest, the best, the
most fair in glory and majesty,"
"The mightiest in his strength, the wisest in his wisdom, the
holiest in his holiness, whose power is of all power the
fairest,"
"Who is very wise, who maketh all things to rejoice afar,"
"Who hath made us and formed us, who hath saved us, the holiest
among the heavenly ones,"
"Him I adore and praise, unto him I declare the sacrifice, him I
invite,"
"I declare the sacrifice to the Protector, the Peace-maker, who
maketh the fire to burn, who preserveth the wealth of the earth;
the whole earth and the wisdom thereof, the seas and the waters,
the land and all growing things, I invite to the sacrifice."
"Cattle and living things, and the fire of Ahura, the sure
helper, the lord of the archangels,"
"The nights and the days, I call upon, the purity of all created
light,"
"The Lord of light, the sun in his glory, glorious in name and
worthy of honour,"
"Who giveth food unto men, and multiplieth the cattle upon the
earth, who causeth mankind to increase, I call upon and invite to
the sacrifice,"
"Water, and the centre of all waters, given and made of God, that
refresheth all things and maketh all things to grow, I call upon
and invite."
"The souls of the righteous and pure, the whole multitude of
living men and women upon earth, I call upon and invite."
"I call upon the triumph and the mighty strength of God,"
"I call upon the archangels who keep the world, upon the months,
upon the pure, new moon, the lordship of purity in heaven,"
"I call upon the feasts of the years and the seasons, upon the
years and the months and days,"
"I call upon the star Ahura,[10] and upon the one great and
eternal in purity, and upon all the stars, the works of God,"
"Upon the star Tistrya I call, the far-shining, the
magnificent--upon the fair moon that shineth upon the young
cattle, upon the glorious sun swift in the race of his flight,
the eye of the Lord."
"I call upon the spirits and souls of the righteous, on the
fire-begotten of the Lord, and upon all fires."
"Mountains and all hills, lightened and full of light."
"Majesty of kingly honour, the Majesty of the king which dieth
not, is not diminished,"
"All wisdom and blessings and true promises, all men who are full
of strength and power and might,"
"All places and lands and countries beneath the heavens, and
above the heavens, light without beginning, existing, and without
end,"
"All creatures pure and good, male and female upon the earth."
"All you I invite and call upon to the sacrifice."
"Havani, pure, lord of purity!"
"Shavanghi, pure, lord of purity!"
"Rapithwina, pure, lord of purity!"
"Uzayêirina, pure, lord of purity!"
"Aiwishruthrema, Aibigaya, pure, lord of purity!"
"Ushahina, pure, lord of purity!"
"To Havani, Shavanghi and Vishya, the pure, the lords of purity
most glorious, be honour and prayer and fulfilment and praise."
"To the days, and the nights, and the hours, the months and the
years and the feasts of years, be honour and prayer and
fulfilment and praise before Auramazda, the All-Wise, for ever
and ever and ever."_[11]
[Footnote 10: Ahura, Jupiter. Tistrya, Sirius.]
[Footnote 11: Partly a translation, partly a close imitation in
a condensed form of Yashna I.]
As the white-robed priests shouted the verses of the long hymn, their
eyes flashed and their bodies moved rhythmically from side to side with
an ever-increasing motion. From time to time, the golden goblets were
filled with the sweet Haoma juice, and passed rapidly from hand to hand
along the line, and as each priest drank more freely of the subtle
fermented liquor, his eyes gained a new and more unnatural light, and
his gestures grew more wild, while the whole body of voices rose
together from an even and dignified chant to an indistinguishable
discord of deafening yells.
Ever more and more they drank, repeating the verses of the hymn without
order or sequence. One man repeated a verse over and over again in
ear-piercing shrieks, swaying his body to and fro till he dropped
forward upon the ground, foaming at the mouth, his features distorted
with a wild convulsion, and his limbs as rigid as stone. Here, a band of
five locked their arms together, and, back to back, whirled madly round,
screaming out the names of the archangels, in an indiscriminate rage of
sound and broken syllables. One, less enduring than the rest, relaxed
his hold upon his fellow's arm and fell headlong on the pavement, while
the remaining four were carried on by the force of their whirling, and
fell together against others who steadied themselves against the wall,
swaying their heads and arms from side to side. Overthrown by the fall
of their companions, these in their turn fell forward upon the others,
and in a few moments, the whole company of priests lay grovelling one
upon the other, foaming at the mouth, but still howling out detached
verses of their hymn--a mass of raging, convulsed humanity, tearing each
other in the frenzy of drunkenness, rolling over and over each otter in
the twisted contortions of frenzied maniacs. The air grew thick with the
smoke of the fire and of the lamps, and the unceasing, indescribable din
of the hoarsely howling voices seemed to make the very roof rock upon
the pillars that held it up, as though the stones themselves must go mad
and shriek in the universal fury of sound. The golden goblets rolled
upon the marble pavement, and the sweet green juice ran in slimy streams
upon the floor. The high priest himself, utterly intoxicated and
screaming with a voice like a wild beast in agony, fell backwards across
the marble vase at the foot of the mortar and his hand and arm plashed
into the dregs of the fermented Haoma.
Never had the drunken frenzy reached such a point before. The king had
sat motionless and frowning upon his seat until he saw the high priest
fall headlong into the receptacle of the sacred Haoma. Then, with a
groan, he laid his two hands upon the arms of his carved chair, and
rose to his feet in utter disgust and horror. But, as he turned to go,
he stood still and shook from head to foot, for he saw beside him a
figure that might, at such a moment, have startled the boldest.
A tall man of unearthly looks stood there, whose features he seemed to
know, but could not recognise. His face was thin to emaciation, and his
long, white hair fell in tangled masses, with his huge beard, upon his
half-naked shoulders and bare chest. The torn, dark mantle he wore was
falling to the ground as he faced the drunken herd of howling priests
and lifted up his thin blanched arms and bony fingers, as though in
protest at the hideous sight. His deep-set eyes were blue and fiery,
flashing with a strange light. He seemed not to see Darius, but he gazed
in deepest horror upon the writhing mass of bestial humanity below.
Suddenly his arms shook, and standing there, against the dark marble
screen, like the very figure and incarnation of fate, he spoke in a
voice that, without effort, seemed to dominate the hideous din of
yelling voices--a voice that was calm and clear as a crystal bell, but
having that in it which carried instantly the words he spoke to the ears
of the very most besotted wretch that lay among the heaps upon the
floor--a voice that struck like a sharp steel blade upon iron.
"I am the prophet of the Lord. Hold ye your peace."
As a wild beast's howling suddenly diminishes and grows less and dies
away to silence, when the hunter's arrow has sped close to the heart
with a mortal wound, so in one moment, the incoherent din sank down, and
the dead stillness that followed was dreadful by contrast. Darius stood
with his hand upon the arm of his chair, not understanding the words of
the fearful stranger; still less the mastering power those words had
upon the drunken priests. But his courage did not desert him, and he
feared not to speak.
"How sayest thou that thou art a prophet? Who art thou?" he asked.
"Thou knowest me and hast sent for me," answered the white-haired man,
in his calm tones; but his fiery eyes rested on the king's, and Darius
almost quailed under the glance. "I am Zoroaster; I am come to proclaim
the truth to thee and to these miserable men, thy priests."
The fear they felt had restored the frenzied men to their senses. One by
one, they rose and crept back towards the high priest himself, who had
struggled to his feet, and stood upon the basement of the mortar above
all the rest.
Then Darius looked, and he knew that it was Zoroaster, but he knew not
the strange look upon his face, and the light in his eyes was not as the
light of other days. He turned to the priests.
"Ye are unworthy priests," he cried angrily, "for ye are drunk with
your own sacrifice, and ye defile God's temple with unseemly cries.
Behold this man--can ye tell me whether he be indeed a prophet?"
Darius, whose anger was fast taking the place of the awe he had felt
when he first saw Zoroaster beside him, strode a step forward, with his
hand upon his sword-hilt, as though he would take summary vengeance
upon the desecrators of the temple.
"He is surely a liar!" cried the high priest from his position beyond
the altar, as though hurling defiance at Zoroaster through the flames.
"He is surely a liar!" repeated all the priests together, following
their head.
"He is a Magian, a worshipper of idols, a liar and the father of lies!
Down with him! Slay him before the altar; destroy the unbeliever that
entereth the temple of Ahura Mazda!"
"Down with the Magian! Down with the idolater!" cried the priests, and
moved forward in a body toward the thin white-haired man who stood
facing them, serene and high.
Darius drew his short sword and rushed before Zoroaster to strike down
the foremost of the priests. But Zoroaster seized the keen blade in the
air as though it had been a reed, and wrenched it from the king's strong
grip, and broke it in pieces like glass, and cast the fragments at his
feet. Darius staggered back in amazement, and the herd of angry men, in
whose eyes still blazed the drunkenness of the Haoma, huddled together
for a moment like frightened sheep.
"I have no need of swords," said Zoroaster, in his cold, clear voice.
Then the high priest cried aloud, and ran forward and seized a brand
from the sacred fire.
"It is Angramainyus, the Power of Evil," he yelled fiercely. "He is come
to fight with Auramazda in his temple! But the fire of the Lord shall
destroy him!"
As the priest rushed upon him, with the blazing brand raised high to
strike, Zoroaster faced him and fixed his eyes upon the angry man. The
priest suddenly stood still, his hand in mid-air, and the stout piece of
burning wood fell to the floor, and lay smouldering and smoking upon the
pavement.
"Tempt not the All-Wise Lord, lest he destroy thee," said Zoroaster
solemnly. "Harken, ye priests, and obey the word from heaven. Take the
brazier from your altar, and scatter the embers upon the floor, for the
fire is defiled."
Silent and trembling, the priests obeyed, for they were afraid; but the
high priest stood looking in amazement upon Zoroaster.
When the brazier was gone, and the coals were scattered out upon the
pavement, and the priests had trodden out the fire with their leathern
shoes, Zoroaster went to the black marble altar, and faced the east,
looking towards the stone mortar at the end. He laid his long, thin
hands upon the flat surface and drew them slowly together; and, in the
sight of the priests, a light sprang up softly between his fingers;
gradually at first, then higher and higher, till it stood like a blazing
spear-head in the midst, emitting a calm, white effulgence that darkened
the lamps overhead, and shed an unearthly whiteness on Zoroaster's white
face.
He stepped back from the altar, and a low murmur of astonishment rose
from all the crowd of white-robed men. Darius stood in silent wonder,
gazing alternately upon the figure of Zoroaster, and upon the fragments
of his good sword that lay scattered upon the pavement.
Zoroaster looked round upon the faces of the priests with blazing eyes:
"If ye be true priests of Ahura Mazda, raise with me the hymn of
praise," he said. "Let it be heard in the heavens, and let it echo
beyond the spheres!"
Then his voice rose calm and clear above all the others, and lifting up
his eyes and hands, he intoned the solemn chant:
_"He, who by truth ruleth in purity, abideth according to the
will of the Lord."
"The Lord All-Wise is the giver of gifts to men for the works
which men in the world shall do in the truth of the Lord."
"He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to God."
"Best of all earthly goods is truth."
"Glory, glory on high for ever to him who is best in heaven, and
truest in truth on earth!"_
Zoroaster's grand voice rang out, and all the priests sang melodiously
together; and upon the place which had been the scene of such frenzy and
fury and drunkenness, there descended a peace as holy and calm as the
quiet flame that burned without fuel upon the black stone in the midst.
One by one, the priests came and fell at Zoroaster's feet; the chief
priest first of all.
"Thou art the prophet and priest of the Lord," each said, one after
another. "I acknowledge thee to be the chief priest, and I swear to be a
true priest with thee."
And last of all, the king, who had stood silently by, came and would
have kneeled before Zoroaster. But Zoroaster took his hands, and they
embraced.
"Forgive me the wrong I did thee, Zoroaster," said Darius. "For thou art
a holy man, and I will honour thee as thou wast not honoured before."
"Thou hast done me no wrong," answered Zoroaster. "Thou hast sent for
me, and I am come to be thy faithful friend, as I swore to thee, long
ago, in the tent at Shushan."
Then they took Zoroaster's torn clothes, and they clad him in white
robes and set a spotless mitre upon his head; and the king, for the
second time, took his golden chain from his own neck, and put it about
Zoroaster's shoulders. And they led him away into the palace.