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Updated: June 19, 2025
The folly of my ancestors if I ever had any prevents my having any better expression.... Why should I not be all I feel that sky, those clouds the whole universe? Hercules! what a creative genius my sensorium must be! I'll take to writing' poetry a mock-epic, in seventy-two books, entitled "The Universe: or, Raphael Aben-Ezra," and take Homer's Margites for my model. Homer's? Mine!
You rascal, you have brought in no wine for the lady. Don't you know her little ways yet? 'Eos has got it at the door, of course, answered the boy, with a saucy air of offended virtue. 'Out with you, imp of Satan! cried Miriam. 'This is no time for winebibbing. Raphael Aben-Ezra, why are you lying here? Did you not receive a note last night? 'A note? So I did, but I was too sleepy to read it.
'Where your mother found you when she palmed you off upon her goodman, my child in the slave-market. Fair Sybil, have you already forgotten your humblest pupil, as these young dogs have, who are already trying to upset their master and instructor in the angelic science of bullying? And the beggar, lifting his broad straw hat, disclosed the features of Raphael Aben-Ezra.
'Perhaps the virgin of whom it is prophesied that he will be born, suggested another. 'Not that, I'll warrant her, said Peter, with a savage sneer. 'And is Raphael Aben-Ezra her pupil in philosophy? asked Philammon. 'Her pupil in whatsoever she can find where-with to delude men's souls, said the old priest.
Well, Raphael Aben-Ezra, thou hast one more friend in the world beside Bran the mastiff; and therefore one more trouble seeing that friends always expect a due return of affection and good offices and what not.
'Not so, cried Synesius, in his turn; 'it is a noble and a holy fear. You fear her goodness. Could you see her goodness, much less fear it, were there not a Divine Light within you which showed you what, and how awful, goodness was? Tell me no more, Raphael Aben-Ezra, that you do not fear God; for he who fears Virtue, fears Him whose likeness Virtue is.
Is that, then, the paltry bait by which Raphael Aben-Ezra has been tempted to desert philosophy? 'Thank Heaven! said Raphael to himself. 'She does not care for me, then! If she had, pride would have kept her from that sneer. Yes, my dear lady, answered he aloud, 'to desert philosophy, to search after wisdom; because wisdom itself had sought for me, and found me.
The stately beauty of Hypatia, the seductive fascination of Pelagia, the childlike nature of Philammon, the subtle cynicism of Raphael Aben-Ezra, the mighty audacity of the Goths, the fanaticism of Cyril, and the strange clash of three elements of civilisation, Graeco-Roman, Christian, Teutonic give us definite impressions, leave a permanent imprint on our thoughts.
Just as he was stepping into his curricle a tall young man, as gorgeously bedizened as himself, lounged down the steps after him, and beckoned lazily to the black boy who carried his parasol. 'Ah, Raphael Aben-Ezra! my excellent friend, what propitious deity ahem! martyr brings you to Alexandria just as I want you? Get up by my side, and let us have a chat on our way to the tribunal.
'So said Aristophanes of Socrates. But hear me once more, beloved Hypatia. You refuse to give up the beautiful, the sublime, the heavenly? What if Raphael Aben-Ezra, at least, had never found them till now?
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