Ten priests, in white vestments, maculated with red, stepped out to the
centre of the altar. Following them came two other priests, clad in
feminine garments. It was their duty to-day to represent Nephthys and
Isis, bewailing Osiris. Then out of the depths of the altar came one in
a white chiton, without a single ornament, and the eyes of all the men
and women were eagerly drawn to him. This was the very same desert
anchorite who had undergone a heavy trial of ten years’ wrestling with
the flesh upon the mountains of Lebanon, and was now to bring a great,
voluntary bloody sacrifice to Isis. His face, emaciated by hunger,
wind-beaten and scorched, was stern and pallid, the eyes austerely cast
down; and a supernatural horror was wafted from him upon the throng.
Finally, the chief priest of the temple also made his appearance,--a
centenarian ancient, with a tiara upon his head, with a tiger skin upon
his shoulders, in an apron of brocaded samite adorned with the tails of
jackals.
Turning to the worshippers, he uttered in a senile voice, meek and
tremulous:
“_Suton-di-hotpu._” (“The king bringeth the sacrifice.”)
And then, turning around to the sacrificial altar, he took from the
hands of an acolyte a white dove with little red feet, cut off the
bird’s head, took the heart out of her breast, and sprinkled the
sacrificial altar and the consecrated knife with her blood.
After a brief silence he proclaimed:
“Let us weep for Osiris, the god of Atum, the Great On-Nefer-Hophra, the
god Ona!”
Two castrates in female garments,--Isis and Nephthys,--at once commenced
the lamentation, in harmonious, high-pitched voices:
“Return to thy dwelling, O beauteous youth! To behold thee is bliss.
“Isis charges thee,--Isis, that was conceived in the one womb with
thee,--Isis, thy spouse and thy sister.
“Show us thy countenance anew, radiant god. Here is Nephthys, thy
sister. She is deluged in her tears and plucks out her hair in her
grief.
“In a yearning like unto death do we seek after thy beauteous body.
Return to thy dwelling, Osiris!”
Two other priests joined their voices to those of the first two. These
were Horus and Anubis lamenting for Osiris, and each time they concluded
a stanza, the chorus, disposed upon the steps of the staircase, repeated
it to a solemn and sad motif.
Then with the same chant the elder priests brought out of the sanctuary
the statue of the goddess, no longer covered with the _naos_. A black
mantle, strewn over with golden stars, now enveloped the goddess from
head to foot, leaving visible only her silvern feet, entwined by a
serpent, as well as, over her head, a silvern disc, confined within the
horns of a cow. And slowly, to the tinkling of the censers and sistra,
with mournful weeping, the procession of the goddess Isis set out from
the steps of the altar, down into the temple, along its walls, and in
and out between the columns.
Thus did the goddess gather up the scattered members of her spouse, that
she might resuscitate him with the aid of Thoth and Anubis.
“Glory to the city of Abydos, that preserved thy fair head, Osiris.
“Glory to thee, city of Memphis, where we did find the right hand of the
great god,--the hand of war and protection.
“And to thee also, O city of Sais, that didst harbour the left hand of
the radiant god,--the hand of justice.
“And be thou blessed, city of Thebes, where the heart of On-Nefer-Hophra
did repose.”
Thus did the goddess make the round of the entire temple, coming back to
the altar, and more and more passionate and loud did the singing of the
chorus become. A sacred exaltation was taking possession of the priests
and those praying. All the parts of the body of Osiris had Isis found,
save one,--the sacred Phallus, impregnating the maternal womb, creating
new life eternal. Now was approaching the grandest act in the mystery of
Osiris and Isis....
* * * * *
“Is it thou, Eliab?” the queen asked the youth, who had quietly entered
the door.
In the darkness near the couch he noiselessly sank at her feet and pressed
to his lips the hem of her raiment. And the queen felt him weeping with
rapture, shame, and desire. Lowering her hand upon his curly, tousled
head, the queen uttered:
“Tell me, Eliab, all that thou knowest of the king and this girl of the
vineyard.”
“How thou dost love him, O queen!” said Eliab with a bitter moan.
“Speak!...” commanded Astis.
“What can I tell thee, queen? My heart is rent by jealousy.”
“Speak!”
“Never yet has the king loved any as he loveth her. He doth not part
from her for an instant. His eyes shine with happiness. He lavishes
favours and gifts all about him. He, the Abimelech[5] and sage,--he,
like a slave, lieth at her feet and, like a dog, taketh not his eyes
off her.”
“Speak!”
“O, how thou dost torture me, queen! And she ... she is all love, all
tenderness and caresses! She is meek and abashed, she sees and knows
naught save her love. She arouses wrath, envy, or jealousy in none....”
“Speak!” furiously moaned out the queen, and, clutching with her pliant
fingers the black curls of Eliab, she pressed his head against her body,
scratching his face with the silver embroidery of her diaphanous chiton.
* * * * *
And in the meanwhile, at the altar, around the image of the goddess
covered with its black pall, the priests and priestesses were careering
in a holy frenzy, with shouts resembling barking, to the clashing of
tympani and the jarring strum of sistrums.
Certain ones among them were flaying themselves with many-tailed
whiplashes of rhinoceros hide; others were inflicting long, slashing
wounds upon their own breasts and shoulders with short knives; others
still were tearing their mouths with their fingers, tearing at their
ears, and excoriating their faces with their nails. In the midst of this
mad round-dance, at the very feet of the goddess, with inconceivable
rapidity the anchorite from the mountains of Lebanon was whirling on one
spot, in snowy-white, waving raiment. The head priest alone remained
motionless. In his hand he was holding the sacred sacrificial knife of
Æthiopian obsidian, ready to pass it over at the ultimate, frightful
moment.
“The Phallus! The Phallus! The Phallus!” the maddened priests were
crying in an ecstasy. “Where is thy Phallus, O radiant god? Come,
fecundate the goddess! Her bosom languishes with desire! Her womb is
like a desert in the sultry months of summer!”
And now a fearful, insane, piercing scream for an instant drowned all
sound of the chorus. The priests quickly parted, and all those in the
temple beheld the anchorite of Lebanon, utterly nude, horrible with his
tall, gaunt, yellow body. The high priest held out the knife to him. The
temple grew unbearably still. And he, quickly stooping, made some motion,
straightened up, and with a wail of pain and rapture suddenly cast at
the feet of the goddess a formless, bloody piece of flesh.
He was tottering. The high priest carefully supported him, putting his
arm around his back; led him up to the image of Isis, painstakingly
covered him with the black pall, and left him thus for a few moments, in
order that in secret, unseen of the others, he might imprint his kiss
upon the lips of the impregnated goddess.
Immediately thereafter he was laid upon a stretcher and borne from the
altar. The priest who kept the gates went outside the temple. He struck
an enormous copper disc with a wooden mallet, proclaiming to all the
universe that the great mystery of the fecundation of the goddess had
been consummated. And the high, singing sound of the copper floated away
over Jerusalem....
Queen Astis, her body still quivering without cease, threw back Eliab’s
head. Her eyes were aflame with an intense, red fire. And she spake
slowly, word by word:
“Eliab, wouldst have me make thee king over Judæa and Israel? Wouldst
thou be sovereign over all Syria and Mesopotamia, over Phoenicia and
Babylon?”
“Nay, queen, I desire thee alone....”
“Yea, thou shalt be my lord. All my nights shall belong to thee. My
every word, my every glance, my every breath shall be thine. Thou
knowest the shibboleth. Thou shalt go this day into the palace and slay
them. Thou shalt slay them both! Thou shalt slay them both!”
Eliab was fain to speak. But the queen drew him to her, and her burning
lips and tongue clung to his mouth. This lasted excruciatingly long.
Then, suddenly tearing the youth away from her, she said curtly and
imperiously:
“Go!”
“I go,” answered Eliab, submissively.