It was the middle of the second vigil--between ten and eleven o’clock
at night by our reckoning of time--and the house of Cornelius Cinna was
sunk in silent repose. The lamp in the peristyle was extinguished, and
the last guests--Claudia, Lucilia and Quintus--had left about half an
hour since....
There was a sound of steps in the colonnade--soft, cautious, and
mysterious. Two women wrapped in large cloaks went to the back
door,[252] followed by a sturdy slave.
“Oh! my sweet mistress,” whispered Chloe, as she opened the little
gate, “you may believe it or not, but my knees shake beneath me. If
your uncle were to discover us...! It would be the death of me!”
“Silence!” replied Cornelia. “My uncle is sound asleep. And even if he
were to find out....”
“Oh yes! I know very well, you are not afraid of his anger. And in
fact what could he do to you? But I--ye merciful gods!--Are you quite
certain that the priest expects us?”
“Perfectly certain. Aspasia brought me a quite distinct message.”
“Well then--I wash my hands in innocence. It is fearfully dark out
here--I shall be truly thankful, if nothing dreadful happens to us.”
“Silly thing! The Temple of Isis is quite near at hand, and Parmenio is
with us.”
Chloe closed the door behind her and sighed deeply; still she made
one more attempt to stop her mistress. “Must it be to-day?” she said
plaintively.
“Yes, this very hour. When the day is done in which the dream was seen,
the seer’s power is gone. You heard Baucis say so.”
“Baucis!” said Chloe contemptuously.
“She only repeated the priest’s words. Make haste; minutes are
precious. Go in front, my good Parmenio.”
They went down the street and turned to the right along a narrow alley,
which zigzagged between high walls and led them to the back of the
temple of Isis. They presently reached the vestibule of Barbillus,
where a slave was waiting behind the door with a gilt lantern; he bowed
low and led them, without speaking a word, to an upper room.
Barbillus--a man of marked eastern type, handsome and tall, with waving
locks, like an oriental Zeus--received his guests with an admirable
combination of affability and dignified reserve. He desired Chloe
and the astonished slave to wait in an outer room, while he opened a
side door and led the way into another. Cornelia followed him with a
beating heart, through a perfect labyrinth of dimly-lighted rooms and
corridors, till at length they came into a hall mysteriously fitted
up as a sanctuary, and well calculated to impress the senses with a
magical spell. Dark curtains, embroidered with dead silver, hung over
the walls on every side, and in a niche, on a silver pedestal, sat a
statue of the goddess closely wrapped in veils, while, to the right and
left of the figure, magnificent censers stood on brazen tripods. A lamp
hanging from the star-spangled ceiling cast a ghostly blue light on the
scene.
“Pray here, my daughter,” said Barbillus in a deep voice; “beseech the
all-merciful mother of the universe to enlighten our spirits; mine,
that I may see and speak, thine, that thou mayest hear and learn. I
will leave thee to meditate alone, fair Cornelia.” And he quitted the
room, slowly closing the tapestried door.
Hardly had he left her, when Cornelia sank on her knees in fervent
devotion. The mystical surroundings, the dim blue light, the perfume of
incense,[253] which loaded the air with stupifying sweetness, and the
veiled and silent presence of the divinity--all combined to impress her
profoundly. Her heart was full to bursting.
Suddenly the air was filled with a sound as of the music of the
spheres. A delicious harmony seemed to proceed from the walls, the
floor beneath her, and the statue itself, and to cradle her soul in
lulling witchery; while, at the same instant, pale tongues of flame
broke out over the two censers and danced fitfully, but, as it seemed,
lovingly up to the shrouded goddess.
“Isis! O Isis!” sobbed the girl, raising her snowy arms to the
divinity. “First-born of the ages![254] Highest among the Immortals!
Sovereign lady of departed souls! One and perfect revelation of all
the gods and goddesses! Almighty Queen, whose nod the heavens and
earth obey! Eternal Power, who art blest under a thousand forms and
by a thousand names, by the sages of every land! Hear, O hear me! I
have all thou canst bestow of earthly joys; I am young, fair and rich,
and have the love of the noblest and best heart that beats among the
youth of Rome! And yet, one thing is lacking to me, O Goddess! One
thing, which I crave of thy mercy with floods of tears: Peace, inward,
all-sufficient peace of heart. Isis! mother of heaven, hear me! Over
my head there lowers a forecast of evil; my spirit wanders groping
in darkness. Thou hast sent me a dream, a warning; but alas! thine
ignorant child strives in vain to read it.--Teach me thyself to know
thy will; reveal thyself to me! Give me peace and the calm beatitude,
the grace of heaven! Save, oh! save me! All that I dare call mine
must ere long fade.--The storms of time must sweep it away! Give me
salvation, the true love which is eternal! Isis, all-loving Isis, have
pity on me!”
The goddess’s veil was lifted a little from her face; half-appalled,
half-fascinated, Cornelia gazed up at it. A tender radiance like
moonlight fell upon the pale, marble features, and a benevolent smile
parted the lips. But before the tremulous worshipper was fully aware of
what was happening, the light vanished, the veil was softly dropped--it
was all gone like a dream, and the music as suddenly ceased. Cornelia
was aware of a violent shock as of an earthquake. Hardly mistress
of herself, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against
the pedestal of the statue. When she looked up again, Barbillus was
standing by her side in a white robe[255] made of byssus tissue, and he
smiled as he held out his hand to her.
“The goddess has heard your prayer,” he said in an agitated voice.
“Tell me now what the vision was, and listen to the words of her
servant.”
As he spoke he drew the curtain aside from a studded door, and led
Cornelia up a narrow stair to an attic room, where he carefully closed
the shutters and desired Cornelia to be seated on a couch. No sooner
had she obeyed, than the tapers on a small altar were lighted--as the
censers before had been--without any visible agency.
Barbillus knelt down, bowing his face over a sacred book which lay
unrolled between the tapers, and he remained in this position, while
Cornelia related her dream. Then, after putting up a silent prayer, he
suddenly went up to the girl, bending down over her in such a way that
she could perceive the small tonsure[256] on the crown of his head in
the middle of his dark curls.
“Daughter!” he said, as he drew himself up again, “your dream betokens
no good. A fatality is hovering over you and yours, which can only be
averted by the direct intervention of the goddess. To this end it is
needful that you should, for the next four weeks, bring an offering
daily at the same hour as to-night. Gold, incense and roses are
pleasing in the eyes of the divinity.”
“I knew it, oh! I knew it,” groaned Cornelia. “Not for nothing has my
heart been held in a cold and deathlike grasp! But, tell me, what is
the meaning of the desert place, of the shining city, and of my lover’s
appearance?”
“All this I will tell you, when the month is out. Trust me, daughter,
and do that which you are enjoined.”
“Oh! I will do it!” cried Cornelia ecstatically, and she pressed the
priest’s hand to her lips. “My pearls, my jewels--everything will
I sacrifice joyfully, if only I may appease Fate. Ah! my lord, you
could never, never guess how sad my soul is! Tell me only one thing, I
entreat you, does the danger threaten me through my beloved Quintus?”
The priest closed his eyes.
“I dare not answer you,” he said with an effort. “My part is only to
announce inevitable doom; when I am still permitted to hope that the
favor of the all-gracious mother may yet prevail, silence is the first
duty of my office.”
“Well then, I must submit. Meanwhile--as a proof of my infinite
gratitude--accept this trifling offering. Pray for me, Barbillus,
intercede for me with the almighty goddess.”
She gave him a costly brooch set with rubies, emeralds and
chrysolites,[257] and as she stood--her eyes cast down in maidenly
shyness--she did not see the flash of greed that sparkled under the
Asiatic’s long fine lashes, giving place immediately to the lofty and
dignified expression, that usually characterized him.
“Thanks, my daughter,” he said graciously. “I will offer the gifts
on the shrine of the goddess. And you too, my child, do not fail to
entreat the immortals that all may yet be well.”
He gave her his hand, and led her by a circuitous route back again to
the anteroom, where Parmenio stood in a corner, as upright as a soldier
on guard, while Chloe had gone to sleep in her comfortable seat.
“Come,” said Cornelia, shaking her by the shoulder.
Chloe started up.
“You have been a long time,” she exclaimed. “It cannot be far short of
midnight.”
Just as the three were about to step out into the street again, a
female form flew past them, and close behind, puffing and panting, ran
a man, while farther away, where the streets crossed, they heard loud
laughter.
“Give it up, the roe is too fleet!” cried a coarse bass voice, and the
pursuer turned on his heel, while two other men slowly came to meet
him. All three were wrapped in thick cloaks,[258] with the hoods pulled
down in spite of the heat. For a second Cornelia hesitated; then she
boldly went forth and walked past the strange trio. They were talking
together in an undertone, and yet not so softly but that Cornelia could
hear a few words.
“By Pluto!” said one. “There goes a beauty! I saw her face, as the
boy’s lantern lighted it up.”
“Aphrodite is gracious,” said the second, “to give us a substitute for
the one who has escaped. I am just in the mood for an adventure. Let us
follow the fair one.”
Cornelia hastened her step, but before she had reached the main road
she was surrounded.
“Well, pretty pigeon,” a harsh voice croaked in her ear. “Out and about
so late! And where are you flying, if I am allowed to ask?”
Cornelia was at once aware, that these were not highway plunderers,
but idle adventurers, and evidently men of rank and position. This at
once restored her presence of mind, and she walked on faster than ever.
But in vain. The man who had addressed her, a stout figure of medium
height, with an extraordinarily confident and swaggering address, came
close up to her and laid his left hand on her shoulder to detain her.
Furious indignation boiled in her soul; she shook herself free and
stood still.
“Parmenio,” she said resolutely, “as you love your life, do as I bid
you--I, the niece of the illustrious Cornelius Cinna. The first man who
dares to lay a finger on the hem of this robe--strike him dead.”
“That can be done in no time!” cried Parmenio, taking the bold intruder
by the throat. The other two started back as if struck by lightning.
“Mad fool, you shall die on the cross!” shrieked the man he had
seized, directing a well-aimed blow with his fist. The slave dropped
his arm in terror. There was a ring of such wild and tiger-like
ferocity in the harsh tones, that the sturdy nature of the man was for
the moment paralyzed. Cornelia and Chloe meanwhile had reached the
high-road; Parmenio caught them up in a few strides, and they reached
home safely under cover of the darkness.
“You helpless idiots!” exclaimed the worsted victim, feeling at his
throat. “What do you mean by staring as if it were a good joke, when
a villain throttles me? You, Clodianus, have I loaded you with every
honor and heaps of gold, that you should leave me in the lurch in this
fashion? Take that for your loutish cowardice!”
And Domitian flew at him with the fury of a panther, and struck him a
tremendous blow in the face. Clodianus shrank back.
“Forgive me!” he stammered, groaning with pain and rage. “I was so
confounded at the man’s daring....”
“Away! traitor.--Never let me set eyes on you again.”
“Nay, pardon, my lord!” entreated the other, forgetting all else in
his dread of losing his place. “Pardon and grace, my lord and god, I
beseech thee. Do not withdraw thy favors from the most faithful of thy
servants.”
“Yes, my lord and god,” added Parthenius, the chamberlain. “Forgive us,
for nothing but reverence and consternation could have betrayed us into
such a crime. Do not let it spoil a jovial night. It is the first time
for long, that we have wandered through the streets in disguise, and
shall a spiteful accident....”
“You are right,” interrupted the Emperor. “I was in the best of
humors....”
“Then bid it return. Even his moods must surely obey the sovereign,
whose sway extends over the whole world....”
“Curse it all! To think that of all women in the world.... Cinna’s
niece?... I did not even know, that the old fool had a niece. Whose
house had she come out of?”
“That of Barbillus, the priest of Isis.”
“Ah ha! One of the praying ninnies, that the juggler knows how to
beguile so well! Capital! The girl pleases me. I should like--if it
were only to spite the old curmudgeon--I hate Cinna like poison. He
wants a lesson--he always carries his head as high as a conqueror in
a triumph. As if it were not in my power to see those haughty iron
features flung in the dust at my feet--Parthenius, we will talk of
that, again. But now, away with all gloomy reflections, and long live
folly!”
“Thanks, all thanks!” cried Clodianus, kissing the sovereign’s hand.
“Pull the hood over my face, so--now my cloak over my chin--and we
will go back into the streets. I should like to see the man, who
can discover Caesar in such a guise. We must find an adventure yet,
Parthenius--[259] some mad and absurd diversion, if it were only that
the lips, which pronounce the fate of nations, should kiss some swarthy
negress.”[260]
He led the way, and the others followed. Domitian did not see how his
companions clenched their fists under their cloaks, nor hear the bitter
curses, hardly uttered by their quivering lips.
FOOTNOTES:
[252] THE BACK DOOR. (_Posticum_) was the name given to the little
door, leading from the back of the cavaedium or peristyle to
the street.
[253] PERFUME OF INCENSE. Incense (_thus_) was generally used not
only in the temple of Isis, but at the ceremonies attending
the offering of sacrifices in the Roman national worship. It
was the resin from an Arabian tree, and the so-called liquid
incense was considered the best.
[254] FIRST-BORN OF THE AGES. The invocation to the goddess Isis
is partly borrowed from the metamorphoses of Appuleius (XI,
5) where the goddess calls herself: “first-born of all the
centuries, highest of the gods, queen of the Manes, princess
of the heavenly powers,” etc., repeating the names under which
she is revered throughout the world.
[255] WHITE ROBE. The priests of Isis wore light robes, usually of
linen (_linum_) from which the goddess is called in Ovid:
“Isis in linen garments,” (_Isis linigera_). Byssus is a kind
of cotton.
[256] SMALL TONSURE. The ancient Oriental custom of shaving the
crown of the head was enjoined upon the priests of Isis.
Herodotus, II, 37.
[257] RUBIES, EMERALDS AND CHRYSOLITES. In ancient times the
chrysolite ranked next to the diamond among precious stones.
The finest came from Scythia. Next to the emerald, the beryl
and opal were highly esteemed. (Plin. _Hist. Nat._ XXXVII, 85.)
[258] ALL THREE WERE WRAPPED IN THICK CLOAKS. The lacerna, the
outer garment worn over the toga, not infrequently had a hood
(_cucullus_).
[259] WE MUST FIND AN ADVENTURE YET, PARTHENIUS. Such nocturnal
rambles incognito were not at all unusual among aristocratic
gentlemen. The incident is not expressly related of Domitian,
but is told of Nero, Suet. _Ner._ 26, where the author says:
“As soon as night came, he put on a hat or cap, went to the
taverns and roamed about the streets, only in jest, it is
true, but not without working mischief.” Domitian’s encounter
with the slave Parmenio has its counterpart in an adventure of
Nero, who once, assailing a noble lady, was almost beaten to
death by her husband. (Suet.)
[260] SWARTHY NEGRESS. See Suet. _Dom._ 22, where it is stated that
the emperor now and then associated with the lowest wenches.