And trebling all the rest in value-Ah heavens ! Why need I tell you all?—suffice to say That whatsoever such a house as his, And his was old, has in it rare or fair Was brought before the guest : and they, the guests, Wonder'd at some strange light in Julian's eyes (I told you that he had his golden hour), And such a feast, ill-suited as it seem'd To such a time, to Lionel's loss and his, And that resolved self-exile from a land He never would revisit, such a feast So rich, so strange, and stranger ev'n than rich, But rich as for the nuptials of a king. And stranger yet, at one end of the hall Two great funereal curtains, looping down, Parted a little ere they met the floor, And just above the parting was a lamp : So the sweet figure folded round with night Seem'd stepping out of darkness with a smile. Well then-our solemn feast-we ate and drank, And might-the wines being of such nobleness Have jested also, but for Julian's eyes, And something weird and wild about it all: What was it? for our lover seldom spoke, Scarce touch'd the meats; but ever and anon A priceless goblet with a priceless wine Arising, show'd he drank beyond his use; And when the feast was near an end, he said: There is a custom in the Orient, friends I read of it in Persia-when a man Will honour those who feast with him, he brings And shows them whatsoever he accounts Of all his treasures the most beautiful, Gold, jewels, arms, whatever it may be. This custom ' Pausing here a moment, all The guests broke in upon him with meeting hands And cries about the banquet-Beautiful! Who could desire more beauty at a feast?' The lover answer'd, 'There is more than one Here sitting who desires it. Laud me not Before my time, but hear me to the close. This custom steps yet further when the guest Is loved and honour'd to the uttermost. For after he hath shown him gems or gold, He brings and sets before him in rich guise That which is thrice as beautiful as these, The beauty that is dearest to his heart"O my heart's lord, would I could show you," he says, "Ev'n my heart too." And I propose to-night To show you what is dearest to my heart, And my heart too. 'But solve me first a doubt. I knew a man, nor many years ago; He falling sick, and seeming close on death, His master would not wait until he died, But bade his menials bear him from the door, And leave him in the public way to die. I knew another, not so long ago, Who found the dying servant, took him home, And fed, and cherish'd him, and saved his life. I ask you now, should this first master claim His service, whom does it belong to? him Who thrust him out, or him who saved his life?' This question, so flung down before the guests, And balanced either way by each, at length When some were doubtful how the law would hold, Was handed over by consent of all To one who had not spoken, Lionel. Fair speech was his, and delicate of phrase. And he beginning languidly-his loss Weigh'd on him yet-but warming as he went, Glanced at the point of law, to pass it by, Then Julian made a secret sign to me To bring Camilla down before them all. And crossing her own picture as she came, Slow-moving as a wave against the wind, The younger Julian, who himself was crown'd With roses, none so rosy as himself— And over all her babe and her the jewels Of many generations of his house Sparkled and flash'd, for he had decked them out As for a solemn sacrifice of love So she came in :-I am long in telling it, I never yet beheld a thing so strange, Sad, sweet, and strange together-floated in While all the guests in, mute amazement rose And slowly pacing to the middle hall, Before the board, there paused and stood, her breast Hard-heaving, and her eyes upon her feet, Dazed or amazed, nor eyes of men; who cared Only to use his own, and staring wide And hungering for the gilt and jewell'd world About him, look'd, as he is like to prove, When Julian goes, the lord of all he saw. 'My guests,' said Julian: 'you are honour'd now |