And _Jusef_ entered into the palace of Putiphra, and all fell down
and made obeisance before him,--all except _Asenath_, who remained
hidden in her tower. When the slave-girls had washed _Jusef's_ feet
they set food and wine before him, but on a table apart, for it was
known in the land that _Jusef_ the son of Jakub would not eat with the
Egyptians, this being an abomination to him.
'My lord Putiphra,' he said, when he had refreshed himself, 'pray tell
me, who is that woman I saw looking from the window of the tower? I
desire not her presence here.'
Now Putiphra knew it was his daughter _Asenath_ that _Jusef_ had seen.
He knew, also, that there was no wife nor daughter of any great man
of Egypt who at sight of _Jusef's_ beauty did not fall in evil case.
Nay, further, many were the gifts of gold and silver and precious
stones sent him by those who languished and were undone in heart by a
single glance at him afar. Wherefore these things were a sore vexation
to _Jusef_, who was as pure as he was beautiful. Remembering ever his
father's exhortation to avoid the strange woman with a gentle and
courteous denial, and to have no other communication with her, he had
preserved the sweetness of his soul to God. 'I pray,' he said, seeing
his host was slow to answer, 'let the woman go hence, for so thou shalt
earn my thanks.'
'My lord,' replied Putiphra, 'the woman thou sawest was none but mine
own daughter, a pure virgin, whom no man save myself hath seen unto
this day. Indeed, she hath no heart for aught but her present state, my
lord. Wert thou to speak with her, thou wouldst regard her from that
moment henceforth as thy sister, for in any other respect she hateth
every man.'
These words pleased _Jusef_ exceedingly.
'Then the case is different,' said he. 'If she be your daughter and a
maiden, hating all men save father and brother, let her come to me and
she will be to me as a sister, and I will love her henceforth, even as
my own sister.'
Then Putiphra went up to the tower and soon returned, leading _Asenath_
by the hand. And when she saw _Jusef_ her eyes were as the eyes of one
that looketh into Paradise.
'Go to thy brother,' said Putiphra, 'and salute him with a kiss, for he
is like thee, pure and virgin.'
_Asenath_ advanced to _Jusef_, saying, 'Hail, lord, great and blessed
of the Most High!' And _Jusef_ replied, 'Hail to thee, maiden! May the
Lord God, who giveth all grace and beauty, so continue to bless thee.'
But when _Asenath_ timidly advanced still further to fulfil her
father's command, and showed a sweet intent to kiss her new-found
brother, _Jusef_ saw the love-light in her eyes, though she, poor
child, knew naught of it but that her heart had left her bosom and
flown to his. He rose quickly from his seat, and, raising his right
arm, said, 'It is not fitting that a man whose lips extol the living
God should kiss a strange woman whose mouth prayeth to blocks of wood
and stone, and eateth the bread of strangling, and drinketh the cup of
treachery.'
When _Asenath_ heard these words her knees trembled. Her heart returned
to her own bosom and sank within it. She groaned aloud, and, as she
gazed sorrowfully at _Jusef_, her eyes brimmed with tears. Seeing this,
_Jusef_ felt pity for her, for he was gentle and merciful. Placing his
hand upon her head, he spoke: 'God of my fathers, who hast given life
and light to all things, do Thou bless this maiden, and count her as
one of Thy people chosen from the foundations of the world; and may she
come to Thine eternal peace, pure and holy in Thy sight.'
Then the tears withdrew from _Asenath's_ eyes as the blessing of
_Jusef_ shone upon her face. She thanked him joyfully, and, having
saluted him, returned to her tower, where she threw herself upon her
couch by the window, weak and trembling with joy and grief and fear and
remorse.
Alas! how she had spoken of _Jusef_! How she had besmirched his
name--called him a runaway, a guilty man who should still be in prison
for his sin, a mere interpreter of dreams. Alas! and he had spurned her
as a worshipper of idols and then had forgiven and blessed her, the
last on earth to deserve it.
For a time she wept with a great and bitter weeping; then she rose
with teeth clenched and dry eyes aflame. Rushing to the wall of the
chamber she snatched a stone idol from its place and hurled it from the
window into the courtyard below. She saw it fall, and heard the crash
as it splintered upon the stones. 'His faith was my mothers faith,' she
cried, 'and henceforth my mother's faith is mine.'
When _Jusef_ had gathered the toll of wheat and was about to depart
Putiphra besought him to tarry and abide at his palace the night and
continue his journey on the following day. But _Jusef_ replied, 'Nay,
I have seven days in which I must make a circuit of the whole country,
but on the eighth day I will return and take up my abode with you.'
And _Jusef_ departed with his retinue through the palace gates; and as
he went he looked not up at the window of the palace tower, nor did
_Asenath_ look down therefrom.
For seven days thereafter the sun rose and set on _Asenath_ weeping.
She neither ate nor drank, nor could her damsels console her in any
way. Sleep fled from her eyes. 'Woe is me,' she would cry, smiting
her breast. 'Woe to me that I have spoken evil words concerning him;
whither shall I go to escape from my sorrow? Woe to me, wretched one,
who hath defamed with my tongue the most beautiful son of Heaven.
Oh that my father could now give me to _Jusef_ as a slave-girl or a
handmaiden, that I might serve him for ever.'
On the night of the seventh day she arose from her couch, and, passing
among her damsels, who were all asleep, stole down the stairway of the
tower, through the ways of the palace, and out to the great gateway.
Here she found the janitor fast asleep. Without waking him, she ran to
the gate and tore down the skin of the screen belonging to it. Then
she sought an ash heap in a remote part of the courtyard, and, having
filled the skin with ashes, returned with it to the tower. She entered
her own chamber and bolted the door; then she spread the skin of ashes
on the pavement by the window and fell upon it, weeping violently, and
crying in broken words: 'By this do I renounce the gods of Egypt. By
this do I change my heart and cleanse my lips, which, as he said, have
offered prayers to idols.' And so she repented with groans and tears
until the dawn was near, when she looked up towards the east and saw
the morning star depending from the side of heaven, like a great lamp
burning clear and sheltered from the wind, lighting her soul to the
gate of forgiveness. She sat up and raised her hands towards it, when
suddenly the sky opened and a wondrous light appeared. When _Asenath_
saw it she fell on her face upon the ashes, and lo, a man strode out
of heaven and stood above her, calling her by name; but she answered
not, so great was her terror. Then he called her again: '_Asenath!
Asenath!_' and his voice was like the murmur of the four streams of
Paradise.
'O my lord, who art thou?' she answered from the dust.
'I am the prince and commander of the hosts of the Lord. Arise and
stand before me, for I would speak with thee.'
When _Asenath_ raised her head and looked at the bright visitant she
saw before her an angel in the form and features of _Jusef_, clad in
a robe of dazzling purple, with a crown of gold encircling his brows,
and bearing a royal staff in his hand. Then she was taken with a sudden
fear, and fell again upon her face. But the Bright One of God raised
her up and comforted her.
'Lift up thy heart, O Virgin _Asenath_,' he said, 'for thy name is
written in the Book of Life and shall never be blotted out for ever and
for ever. For know that thy repentance hath pleaded with the Most High
as a daughter pleads with a loving father, and it is this day decreed
that thou shalt be given unto _Jusef_ as his bride. Therefore arise and
change thy garments. Remove that goat's-hair girdle of sorrow from thy
loins, shake the ashes from thine head, and array thyself in fine linen
with ornaments fitting for the bride of a king to be. Go now, and on
thy return thou wilt find me here, provided thou return alone.'
So _Asenath_ went and woke her damsels, and bade them select the finest
raiment and the brightest jewels fitting for the bride of the second to
Pharaoh. No word did she say of the angel, and they wondered greatly.
Ashtar alone, on looking into her mistress's eyes, saw there the light
that she almost understood.
'Nay, Ashtar,' said _Asenath_, as the damsel's deft fingers plied their
task, 'thou art not bemused. It has come to me, Ashtar; canst thou not
see it?'
'Yea, beloved mistress; that can I, right well.' And as their eyes met,
Ashtar's filled with tears of joy.
At last _Asenath_ stood apparelled and adorned as befitted the bride
of the second to Pharaoh. Her braided hair, a plait of which hung over
her shoulder, was bound about her brows with a tiara of gold set with
sparkling jewels. Gold bracelets were on her arms; a crimson sash
encircled her waist; flounces of her skirts shone with a thousand
diamonds and rubies; but most wonderful of all was the long, gossamer
veil which fell from her shoulders and trailed on the ground: it was
like the milky way of heaven, all stars, with diamond suns blazing here
and there. Beauty beyond words was _Asenath_ as she returned to the
angel bearing a white flower of purity in her hand.
He was standing by the window as she entered the chamber alone and
barred the door behind her.
'My lord,' she said, humbly kneeling before him, 'if now I have won
favour in thine eyes, I pray thee take this flower, for thou knowest
the meaning of it. It is spotless white, even as I; with a centre of
gold, even as I. I pray thee take it and set it in Paradise that it may
never wither.'
The angel smiled and took the flower, which he placed in his girdle.
'It will never wither,' he said. 'It is the flower that endures when
all created things have passed away. When thou comest to the tree of
life thou shalt find it there. _Perchance thou mayst find it even
here._'
Then _Asenath_, pondering his words in her heart, beseeched him to sit
upon the couch whereon man had never sat. And she said, 'I will bring
thee a meal. What wouldst thou?'
'A honeycomb,' said he.
'Alas! I have no honeycomb.' And she was sorrowful.
'Go thou into thy cellar,' said the angel, 'and thou wilt find a
honeycomb.'
Wondering, she went to the cellar, and found a honeycomb there upon the
table. It was as white as snow and had the combined fragrance of all
the flowers that bloom on hillside and plain. And she returned to him
with the honeycomb, saying, 'My lord, as thou spakest, so it was, and
the fragrance of it is as the breath of thy presence.'
'Blessed art thou,' said the angel, laying his hand tenderly upon her
hair; 'thou hast cast away thine idols and hast turned to the living
God. Thou hast come to me in penitence, and shalt now eat of this
honeycomb which was gathered and made by the bees of God from the red
roses of Eden. It is the food of angels, and those who eat it can never
die.'
With this he brake a portion from the honeycomb and set it to her lips,
saying, 'Eat, and thy youth shall not fail, thy beauty shall not fall
away, thy breasts shall not wither, and thou shalt come at last, in
eternal youth, before the throne of God.'
_Asenath_ ate the morsel of honeycomb, and immediately her face was
radiant with the glory of heaven.
'See,' said the angel, touching the broken honeycomb, 'it is now whole
as before.' Then he rose up, and with his finger traced a line upon
the honeycomb from east to west, and another from north to south; and
the lines stood out as red as the blood shed on the cross erected upon
the foundations of the world. And, as _Asenath_ looked upon it, there
came forth from the comb a multitude of bees with purple wings; and
they swarmed around her with incessant life, and, swiftly speeding to
and from the gardens of Paradise, deposited in the bosom of her dress a
honeycomb as white as snow.
'This,' said the angel, 'shall be a sign to thee of sweetness for
ever.' And, as at his command, the bees flew eastward to Eden; then
he touched the honeycomb, and it was immediately consumed by flames;
but the fragrance of that burning was like the marriage of honey with
fire. It rose into the nostrils of _Asenath_ and overcame her senses.
Relinquishing all hold on earthly life, she threw up her arms and sank
back upon the couch, where she lay like a beautiful soul fallen dead at
the very gates of Paradise.
On the slanting rays of dawn the angel took his way eastwards. Then up
rose the sun of the eighth day since _Jusef's_ departure. A cavalcade
approached the gates of the palace.
'Ho, within!'
The gates open and there is rushing to and fro. A man, as lordly as
the sun, a white flower with a heart of gold in his girdle, rides in,
followed by a retinue found only in the wake of kings. It is _Jusef_.
Maddened by a dream, he looks up at the window of the palace tower, but
the beautiful face that has showed before shows there no more. Love
speeds his footsteps. He has right to command. Where--where is she?
_Asenath_ upon her couch wakes from oblivion at a touch. Who is this
standing over her? The angel, yea, the angel, for there is her flower
still in his girdle. But how?--and why?--it seems not right; his lips
pressed close to hers, his arms around her in a wild embrace----
'_Asenath!_ my bride!'
Printed in Great Britain
By T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty, Edinburgh
EDMUND DULAC'S PICTURE BOOK
PUBLISHED ON BEHALF OF THE
CROIX ROUGE FRANÇAISE
COMITÉ DE LONDRES
9 KNIGHTSBRIDGE, LONDON, S.W.
_COMITÉ DE LONDRES_
9 KNIGHTSBRIDGE, LONDON, S.W.
=_Président d'honneur_= =_Présidente_=
S. E. MONSIEUR PAUL CAMBON VICOMTESSE DE LA PANOUSE
=Under the Patronage of=
H.M. QUEEN ALEXANDRA
The work of the FRENCH RED CROSS is done almost entirely by the willing
sacrifice of patriotic people who give little or much out of their
means. The Comité is pleased to give the fullest possible particulars
of its methods and needs. It is sufficient here to say that every one
who gives even a shilling gives a wounded French soldier more than a
shilling's worth of ease or pleasure.
The actual work is enormous. The number of men doctored, nursed,
housed, fed, kept from the worries of illness, is great, increasing,
and will increase.
You must remember that everything to do with sick and wounded has to be
kept up to a daily standard. It is you who give who provide the drugs,
medicines, bandages, ambulances, coal, comfort for those who fight, get
wounded, or die to keep you safe. Remember that besides fighting for
France, they are fighting for the civilised world, and that you owe
your security and civilisation to them as much as to your own men and
the men of other Allied Countries.
There is not one penny that goes out of your pockets in this cause that
does not bind France and Britain closer together. From the millionaire
we need his thousands; from the poor man his store of pence. We do not
beg, we insist, that these brave wounded men shall lack for nothing. We
do not ask of you, we demand of you, the help that must be given.
There is nothing too small and nothing too large but we need it.
Day after day we send out great bales of goods to these our devoted
soldiers, and we must go on.
Imagine yourself ill, wounded, sick, in an hospital, with the smash and
shriek of the guns still dinning in your ears, and imagine the man or
woman who would hold back their purse from helping you.
Times are not easy, we know, but being wounded is less easy, and being
left alone because nothing is forthcoming is terrible. You have calls
upon you everywhere, you say; well, these men have answered their call,
and in the length and breadth of France they wait your reply.
What is it to be?
Will you please send anything you can afford to
EDMUND DULAC, c/o "THE DAILY TELEGRAPH," LONDON, E.C.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation errors repaired. The note on the publishing of this book
appeared at the front and back of this book. That repetition was
retained. Also, the note from Edmund Dulac is really loacted in the
last story as shown.
Page 7, "ROUSELLE" changed to "ROUSSELLE" on the illustration (OF YOUNG
ROUSSELLE?)
Page 9, "LAYLA AND MANJUN" changed to "LAYLÁ AND MAJNÚN" in chapter
title (LAYLÁ AND MAJNÚN)
Page 22, "MAJNUN" changed to "MAJNÚN" on the illustration (THAT ONE
WORD "MAJNÚN")
Page 102, "104" changed to "103" on illustration reference (HIM p. 103)