Chapter 22
Section 22 of Clairle by Herman Melville. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Hermitage. Through such retreats of dubious end, behold the saint and student wend, Stirring the dust that here may keep, like that, on mummies long asleep in Theban tomb. These alleys past, a little square they win, a waste shut in by towers so hushed, so blind, So tenantless and left forlorn as seemed an ill surmise was born
Of something prowling there behind. An arch, with keystone slipped half down like a dropped jaw. They enter that, repulse nor welcome in the gate, Climbed, and an upper chamber won. It looked out through low window small on other courts of bale shut in,
Whose languishment of crumbling wall Breathed that despair alleged of sin. Prediction and fulfillment met In faint appealings from the rod, Wherefore forever dost forget,
For so long time forsake, O God. But Clarel turned him, Heedful more to note the place within. The floor rudely was tiled, And little there a human harbor might express,
Save a poor chest, a couch, a chair, A hermitage, how comfortless! The beams of the low ceiling bare Were wreck-stuff from the joppa strand, Scant the live timber in that land. Upon the cot the host sat down, Short breathing, with late travel spent, And wiping beads from brow and crown, Essayed a smile, in kindness meant.
But now a little foot was heard, light coming. On the hush it fell, like tinkle of the camel bell in Uzz. Hark! Yea, she comes, my bird, cried Nehemiah, who hailed the hap. Yea, friend in Christ, quick now ye'll see God's messenger which feedeth me.
And rising to the expected tap, he oped the door. Alone was seen Ruth, with a napkin coarse yet clean, folding a loaf. Wherewith she bore a water pitcher, nothing more. These alms, the snowy robe and free, The veil which hid each tress from sight, Might indicate a vestal white Of priestess of sweet charity.
The voice was on the lip, but eyes arrested In their frank accost checked speech, And looked in opening skies upon the stranger, Said the host, easing her hands, Bird, bird, come in. Well-doing never was a sin. God bless thee. In suffusion dim his eyes filled, she eluding him retreated. What, and flown? breathed he. Daily this raven comes to me.
But what should make it now so shy? The hermit motioned here to share the loaf with clarel, who put by the proffer. So with Crusoe air of castaway on isle in sea withdrawn, He broke the unshared bread, but not before a blessing said. Loaf in left hand, the right hand raised higher,
And eyes which heavenward gazed. Here long, reflection done, the youth lured him to talk of things, In range linking themselves at last with Ruth. Her sire he spake of, here twas strange How o'er the enthusiast stole a change,
A meek superior look in sooth. Poor Nathan, did man ever stray as thou To Judaize to-day, to deem the crook of Christ Shall yield to Aaron's staff, to till thy field In hope that harvest-time shall see Solomon's hook
In golden glee reaping the ears. Well, well, me seems, heaven help him, Dreams, but dreams, dreams, dreams, But thou, thou too, with faith sincere, Surely beliefs t'in Jew restored.
Yea, as forerunner of our Lord, Poor man, he's weak, Tis even here, touching his forehead, He's amiss. Clairle scarce found reply to this,
Conjecturing that Nathan too Must needs hold Nehemiah in view the same, The which an after day confirmed by proof, But now from sway of thoughts He would not have recur,
He slid, and into dream of her Who late within that cell shed light, Like the angel succorer by night of Peter dungeon'd. But apace he turn'd him, for he heard the breath, The old man's breath, in sleep. The face, though tranced, struck not Like trance of death, all rigid, Not a mask like that, iced o'er, which none may penetrate, Conjecturing of aught below.
Death freezes, but sleep thaws, And so the inmate lay, some lines revealed, Effaced, when life from sleep comes back, And what their import, be it sealed. But Clarel felt as in a fright Did Eliphaz the Temanite, When past the vision ere it spake. He stole forth, striving with his thought, Leaving Nehemiah in slumber-caught,
Alone, and in an unlocked room, Safe as a stone in vacant tomb, Stone none molest, for it is not. End of section 22
