The Big Fisherman Read Free Page B

anything artistic was completely non-existent. Aside from the fact that the bodily temperature of the Greeks and Arabs was maintained at approximately the same level, they had nothing in common and regarded each other with a condescension not unmixed with pity.
    Upon the accession of Aretas to the Arabian throne (a venerable cedar chest covered with the spliced white pelts of two long-haired goats), a richly caparisoned deputation from Petra had come to pay neighbourly respects. For all parties concerned it was a pleasant visit. The pundits from Petra were shown every available hospitality. Their gift to the young King was a richly illuminated scroll containing Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian War; and, to show his appreciation, Aretas sent the aged Governor of Petra home on a tall, sleek, snobbish camel named Retar, in honour of the Arabian king who had had such amicable dealings with the Greeks in an earlier day. When, some weeks after the coronation, it was amusingly reported to Aretas that Retar had proved unmanageable, he replied, 'That makes us even.'
    Chief Councillor Ilderan, who had something of an instinct for statesmanship and was canny enough to take a long view of international relations, had sometimes urged Aretas to pay a visit to Petra.
    'The time may come, sire,' Ilderan had said, 'when it might be to our advantage to have had a closer acquaintance with these people.'
    'Very well, Ilderan,' Aretas had replied. 'Sometime we will do that.' But the young king had plenty of pressing problems on his hands. He had never found time to visit Petra, nor had he any inclination to place himself at a disadvantage in the company of men whose manner of life and thought was so foreign to his own. One day Ilderan, still nourishing the hope for a closer friendship with the Greeks, remarked that Herod and his sons were said to be frequent visitors in Petra.
    'That makes me even less eager to go there,' Aretas had replied almost gruffly. 'If the King of the Jews has found favour with the Governor of Petra—all the more reason why we should keep our distance.'
    * * * * * *
    It was high noon when the Arabian cavalcade by a circuitous route reached the southern gateway into Petra. A brightly uniformed detachment met the expected guests at the pass and conducted them through the fortified defile.
    After a three-mile ride on a well-kept road, flanked by green pastures, orchards, and widely spaced villas of exquisite architecture, the visitors climbed a long hill, reining in at the summit to face a breath-taking view of the white marble city. There they dismounted to rest their horses. Aretas and Ilderan sauntered a little way apart and for some moments silently surveyed the beautiful panorama below them.
    King Herod's encampment, easily identifiable, had already been set up in a spacious park at the centre of the city. It monopolized at least three-quarters of the park. The colourful tents and gay banners moved Aretas to mutter that it was a more gaudy show than he had expected of the ever dolorous Jews.
    'That is the Roman touch, sire,' observed Ilderan. 'Herod does not forget how he came by his kingship.'
    'Aye,' rumbled Aretas. 'It was a lucky day for that Idumean upstart when his foolhardy father stopped the Egyptian arrow intended for Cassius.'
    'I have often wondered, sire,' drawled old Ilderan, 'whether Cassius might have been so generous with his gratitude had he known how much wealth these Idumeans would acquire in Judaea.'
    'It's never too late for the Empire to rectify a mistake of generosity,' said Aretas.
    'True—but there's no hurry. Herod took over a Jerusalem built of sun-baked brick and is refashioning it in granite and marble. Old Augustus should be willing to let him do that, at the Jews' expense. Besides,' continued Ilderan, 'Judea pays an exorbitant tribute. Why should the Emperor send an army in to kill the goose that lays gold eggs?'
    'Even so; Herod's nights must be troubled by bad dreams. . . .