Ben-Hur, thus left alone, had seen his horses cared for; cooled and purified himself in the lake; exchanged the field garb for his customary vestments, all white, as became a Sadducean of the pure blood; supped early; and, thanks to the strength of youth, was well recovered from the violent exertion he had undergone.
It is neither wise nor honest to detract from beauty as a quality.
There cannot be a refined soul insensible to its influence.

The story of Pygmalion and his statue is as natural as it is poetical.

Beauty is of itself a power; and it was now drawing Ben-Hur.
The Egyptian was to him a wonderfully beautiful woman--beautiful of face, beautiful of form.

In his thought she always appeared to him as he saw her at the fountain; and he felt the influence of her voice, sweeter because in tearful expression of gratitude to him, and of her eyes--the large, soft, black, almond-shaped eyes declarative of her race--eyes which looked more than lies in the supremest wealth of words to utter; and recurrences of the thought of her were returns just so frequent of a figure tall, slender, graceful, refined, wrapped in rich and floating drapery, wanting nothing but a fitting mind to make her, like the Shulamite, and in the same sense, terrible as an army with banners.

In other words, as she returned to his fancy, the whole passionate Song of Solomon came with her, inspired by her presence.