希伯莱语的传说部分即从早晨直到setting of the sun The rabbi Joseph on his knees had prayed, And, as he rose with spirit meek and strong, An Indian page his presence sought, and bowed Before him, saying that a lady lay Sick unto death, tormented grievously, Who begged the comfort of his holy prayers. The rabbi, ever to the call of grief Open as day, arose; and girding straight His robe about him, with the page went forth; Who swiftly led him deep into the woods That hung, heap over heap, like broken clouds On Hebron?s southern terraces; when lo! Across a glade a stately pile he saw, With gleaming front, and many-pillared porch Fretted with sculptured vinage, flowers and fruit, And carven figures wrought with wondrous art As by some Phidian hand. But interposed For a wide space in front, and belting all The splendid structure with a finer grace, A glowing garden smiled; its breezes bore Airs as from paradise, so rich the scent That breathed from shrubs and flowers; and fair the growths Of higher verdure, gemm?d with silver blooms, Which glassed themselves in fountains gleaming light Each like a shield of pearl. Within the halls Strange splendour met the rabbi?s careless eyes, Halls wonderful in their magnificance, With pictured walls, and columns gleaming white Like Carmel?s snow, or blue-veined as with life; Through corridors he passed with tissues hung Inwrought with threaded gold by Sidon?s art, Or rich as sunset clouds with Tyrian dye; Past lofty chambers, where the gorgeous gleam Of jewels, and the stainèd radiance Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare Of Indian and Armenian workmanship Which might have seemed a wonder of the world: And trains of servitors of every clime, Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians, In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls. The page led on, the rabbi following close, And reached a still and distant chamber, where In more than orient pomp, and dazzling all The else-unrivalled splendour of the rest, A queenly woman lay; so beautiful, That though upon her moon-bright visage, pain And langour like eclipsing shadows gloomed, The rabbi?s aged heart with tremor thrilled; Then o?er her face a hectic colour passed, Only to leave that pallor which portends The nearness of the tomb. From youth to age The rabbi Joseph still had sought in herbs And minerals the virtues they possess, And now of his medicaments he chose What seemed most needful in her sore estate; ?Alas, not these,? the dying woman said, ?A malady like mine thou canst not cure, ?Tis fatal as the funeral march of Time! But that I might at length discharge my mind Of a dread secret, that hath been to me An ever-haunting and most ghostly fear, Darkening my whole life like an ominous cloud And which must end it ere the morning come, Therefore did I entreat thy presence here.? The rabbi answered, ?If indeed it stand Within my power to serve thee, speak at once All that thy heart would say. But if ?tis vain, If this thy sin hath any mortal taint, Forbear, O woman, to acquaint my soul With aught that could thenceforth with horror chase The memory of a man of Israel.? ?I am,? she said ?the daughter of thy friend Rabbi Ben Bachai?be his memory blest! Once at thy side a laughing child I played; I married with an Arab Prince, a man Of lofty lineage, one of Ishmael?s race; Not great in gear. Behold?st thou this abode? Did ever yet the tent-born Arab build Thus for his pride or pleasure? See?st thou These riches? An no! Such were ne?er amassed By the grey desert?s wild and wandering son; Deadly the game by which I won them all! And with a burning bitterness at best Have I enjoyed them! And how gladly now Would I, too late, forego them all, to mend My broken peace with a repentant heed In abject poverty!? She ceased, and lay Calm in her loveliness, with dreamy looks Roaming, perhaps, in thought the fateful past; Then suddenly her beauteous countenance grew Bedimm?d and drear, then dark with mortal pangs, While fierce convulsions shook her tortured frame, And from her foaming lips such words o?erran, That rabbi Joseph sank upon his knees, And bowed his head a space in horror down While ardent, pitying prayers for her great woe Rose from his soul; when, lo! The woman?s face Was cloudless as a summer heaven! The late Dark brow was bright, the late pale cheek suffused With roseate bloom; and, wondrous more than all, Here weary eyes were changed to splendours now That shot electric influence, and her lips Were full and crimson, curled with stormy pride. The doubting rabbi stood in wild amaze To see the dying woman bold and fierce In bri