not appear to the general reader. It certainly prepares the way for Solomon's final attack in lustful speech upon Shulamith's virtue. The language of his women, as well as his, is designed to stir Shulamith's passions; so that she may fall a more easy victim to the king's lust. Solomon is described as enmeshed in her tresses. When his speech is on the point of becoming indecent for virtuous ears to hear, Shulamith interrupts him, and turns the conversation to her beloved. Her mouth, which is like the best wine, is not designed for Solomon, but for her shepherd lover. Again she declares that she belongs to her beloved, and that his desire is toward her. With these words she dismisses Solomon for good.

SHULAMITH speaks to her lover, as if present.

Come, my beloved, let us go into the field;

Let us lodge in the villages;

Let us rise early for the vineyards;

Let us see whether the vine has budded,

Whether the blossom of the vine has opened,

Whether the pomegranates are in bloom.

There I will give my love to thee.

The mandrakes yield fragrance,

And at our doors are all manner of pleasant fruits,

New, also old,

My beloved, I have laid up for thee.

Oh that thou wert as a brother to me,

That sucked the breasts of my mother!

Whenever I should find thee in the street, I would kiss thee;

Yea, they should not despise me.

I would lead thee, I would bring thee,
Unto the house of my mother

1

I would cause thee to drink spiced wine,
Of the sweet wine of my pomegranates.
His left hand would be under my head,
And his right hand would embrace me.
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
Why do ye stir up and excite love,
Until it please?

1It seems best to follow the text of the LXX which omits the enigmat

We might well imagine that Shulamith is here reunited to her lover, and that we have a new scene. While she has not yet left the harem, she knows that she is to leave it. She has given Solomon the last repulse, and still remains pure in heart amidst the impure suggestions of Solomon and his women.

She longs for the freedom of the fields, like a caged bird. She is a true lover of nature, to whom the budding vine and the blooming pomegranate speak a mystic language. It is in such surroundings that she will give her love to him. She will lead him home, where her loving hands before her capture had made preparation, in the things which she had stored up for him. Then the thought occurs to her, that when she meets him, after leaving the harem, she will long to hold him in a fond embrace; but her maidenly modesty fears to do so before other eyes, and so she says:

"Oh that thou wert as a brother to me,

That sucked the breasts of my mother.

Whenever I should find thee in the street, I would kiss thee,
Yea, they should not despise me,"

as she thinks they might if they should see her flying into his arms in an ecstasy of love. The rapture of such a meeting is ever in her mind:

"His left hand would be under my head,

And his right hand would embrace me."

ical and disturbing word 7. Doubtless this word was not in the Hebrew from which the Greek translator made his version. It is not unlikely that it was first placed in the margin by a scribe who accepted the allegorical interpretation of the Song and afterwards became a constituent part of the text. The Midrash paraphrases it: "Thou shouldst teach me the duties and the good works"; the Targum, with the preceding two lines: "I would lead thee, King Messiah, and introduce thee to the house of thy sanctuary, and thou shouldst teach me to fear before the face of the Lord, and to walk in his ways." Stickel's suggestion that we must have here a word with some such signification as the Arabic lamasa, "to caress, to fondle," would suit the connection, but is not supported by any version.

She is now ready to take her leave, and she asks the ladies of the harem for the last time, reproachfully:

“I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,

Why do ye stir up and excite love,

Until it please?"

With this question the curtain falls on Shulamith's con

nection with Solomon's harem.

She comes forth with her

honor untarnished.

SCENE XI.

SHULAMITH with her lover.

Villagers. Who is this going up from the wilderness,
Leaning upon her lover?

This is a question as to the most simple act in the world, of a maiden leaning on the arm of her lover, clinging to him with the utmost dependence and devotion. It is the old, old story, ever new, of the perfect union of one man with one woman; whether, as described by Milton: “So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair, That ever since in love's embraces met,"

or, as foreshadowed by Goethe in the person of Hermann and Dorothea:

"Langsam schritt sie hinab auf seinen Schultern die Hände, Sorglich stützte der Starke das Mädchen, das über ihm herhing, Hielt empor die Geliebte: sie sank ihm bis auf die Schulter."

64

Slowly she walked down, her hands upon his shoulders,

Firmly the strong one supported the girl that hung o'er him,
Held up the loved one who sank on his shoulders."

Such unions have in them something of the element described by the poet:

"Till at the last she set herself to man,
Like perfect music unto noble words."

SHULAMITH speaks to her lover.

Under the apple-tree I awakened thee;

There thy mother brought thee forth,

There she that bare thee brought thee forth.1

'Stickel assigns these three lines to Shulamith's lover, and the words that follow to Shulamith herself.

[With deep emotion.]

Set me as a seal upon thy heart,

As a seal upon thy arm,

For love is strong as death,

Passion is as hard as sheol;

Its heat is the heat of fire,
Its flames are flames of Yah.1

Many waters cannot quench love,

Nor rivers drown it.

If a man should give all the treasures of his house for love,
He would be utterly despised.

As they pass the place where they first met, or perhaps first became aware of their mutual love, Shulamith calls his attention to the apple-tree where their hearts leaped together. She calls it an awakening, not that there was purpose in it, but because she attracted him. This apple-tree is a place of delightful memory. Shulamith says in speaking of her beloved :

"As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood,

So is my beloved among the sons.

In his shadow I long to sit down,
While his fruit is sweet to my taste."

Under this tree she says his mother brought him forth, indicating that it was close to the house where he was born.

There is no more faithful characterization of love in any language than that which follows. These lines, as we have seen, furnish the theme of the poem. While the pictures which have been presented are sensuous, Shulamith here presents love's true essence. She longs to be set as a seal upon his heart,-never to be absent from his embrace; as a seal on his arm,-never to be separated from his side, for the seal represents the sacredness and permanence of a document. It is not any passing fancy that she has in mind, any vows lightly spoken and soon forgotten. Her love is strong as death; to be parted from him would be

I read with Olshausen, Lehrbuch der Hebräischen Sprache (Braunschweig, 1861, 106 b.), my manbabu.

death to her. Passion is remorseless as Sheol. She says when once it has taken possession of the heart there is no discharge from it. Its heat is like that of fire; its flames. like flames of Yah, that is, great flames,-not flames of men, but a flame of God himself, hence incomparable. This is the only place where the divine name is used in the Song. When once kindled this flame cannot be extinguished:

"Many waters cannot quench love,

Nor can the floods drown it."

Such love cannot be purchased. Even Solomon himself has not riches enough to buy such a priceless jewel. In Shulamith's eyes Solomon has been utterly despised. She has taken the measure of a man well described by Tenny

son:

"He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse."

The lesson contained in the characterization of love by Shulamith is just as important now as it ever was, of the permanence, power, and unmercenary nature of true affection. With people of high sensibility, marriage on any other basis is intolerable. Young people who are to form. these bonds,—the sweetest and most sacred that earth knows,-need to learn this lesson, which should be discreetly preached in every pulpit and taught in every home. For the best success and most complete happiness in life can only come from such a union as that described here. Nor can modern society present a higher, purer ideal than that set by this beautiful Shulamite maiden. It is a shocking perversion of marriage, that any other principle than that involved here should be its foundation; that money, family, social standing, or anything else should be regarded as its basis. True love, of course, cannot exist unless the contracting parties are mutually fitted for each other, and such fitness is likely to be found in suitable conditions;