Shortly after, Cethegus once more stood before the still seductive
woman, whom he had known in youth. She was lying stretched upon her
couch in the room in which we have before seen her.
Galatea frequently handed to her a small onyx-cup, filled with the
drops prescribed by her Persian physician. Grecian doctors no longer
sufficed.
"I thank you, Theodora," said Cethegus, after a friendly greeting, "and
if I must thank any other than myself--and a woman!--I would rather owe
something to my early friend than to another."
"Listen, Prefect," said Theodora, looking gravely at him. "You would be
just the man--shall I say the barbarian or the Roman?--to first kiss a
Cleopatra whom a Caesar and an Antony had adored, and then take her in
triumph to the Capitol in order to strangle her, as, perhaps,
Octavianus once intended, if that sly Queen had not been beforehand
with him. Cleopatra has always been my model. 'Tis true, I have never
found a Caesar. But the asp, perhaps, will not be wanting. But you need
not thank me. I have spoken and acted out of conviction. The insolence
which we have suffered from these Goths must be smothered in blood.
Perhaps I have not always been such a faithful wife as Justinian
believed; but I was always his best and truest adviser. Belisarius and
Narses cannot be sent together, and still less singly, to Italy. You
shall go. You are a hero, a general, and a statesman, and yet you are
too weak to harm Justinian."
"Thanks for your good opinion," said Cethegus.
"Friend, you are a general without an army, an Emperor without an
empire, a pilot without a ship. But enough of this--you will not
believe me. I send you to Italy because I believe that you hate the
barbarians with all your heart. The second general, whom the imperial
distrust will undoubtedly send after you, shall be Areobindos. He will
not trouble you much! I am rejoiced that I can thus serve not only my
old companion but also the Empire. Ah, Cethegus, our youth! To you men
it is either golden hopes or golden memories: to a woman it is life
itself! Oh for a single day of the time when I sent you roses and you
sent me verses!"
"Your roses were beautiful, Theodora, but my verses were poor."
"They were fine to me, for they were addressed to me! My choice of you,
which is necessary for the Empire, is sweetened by old and new hate as
well as by old love. Belisarius must not rise to new honours. He must
fall, and this time fall low and for ever. As sure as I live!"
"And Narses? I should understand and like it better if you were to ruin
that head without an arm, than this arm without a head."
"Patience! One after the other."
"What has the good-natured hero done to you?"
"He? Nothing. But his wife! that clumsy Antonina, whose whole triumph
lies in her good health."
And the delicate Empress clenched her little white fist, the fingers of
which had become more transparent than ever.
"Ah," she exclaimed, "how I hate her! Yes, and I envy her too! Stupid
people are always healthy. But she shall not rejoice while I suffer!"
"And the fate of the Capitol depends upon such a woman's hatred!"
exclaimed Cethegus to himself. "Down with Cleopatra!"
"The foolish woman is in love with her husband's honour and glory.
There I can wound her fatally!" continued Theodora.
As she spoke the twitching of her delicate features betrayed an attack
of acute pain; she threw herself back upon her cushions.
"My little dove," said Galatea, "do not be angry. Thou knowest what the
Persian said. Every excitement, be it of love or of hate----"
"Yes. To hate and to love is life! And as one grows older, hatred is
almost sweeter than love. Love is false; hate is true."
"In both," said Cethegus, "I am a novice compared to you. I have always
called you the Siren of Cyprus. One can never be sure that you will not
suddenly tear your victim in the very act of embracing him--either from
love, or from hate. And what has suddenly changed your love of Antonina
into hatred?"
"She has become virtuous, the hypocrite! Or can she be really so
weak-minded? It is possible. Her fishy blood can never be made to boil.
For a strong passion or a bold crime she was always too cowardly. She
is too vain to forego admiration and too paltry to reciprocate it.
Since she accompanied her husband on his campaign she has become quite
virtuous. Ha, ha, ha! because she was obliged! Even as the devil fasts
when he has nothing to eat. Because I kept her lover a prisoner."
"Anicius, the son of Boethius? I heard of it."
"Yes, he. When in Italy Antonina again clung to her husband and shared
his fame and his misfortunes. And since that time she is a very
Penelope! When she returned here, what did the goose do? She reproached
me with having enticed her from the path of virtue! and swore that she
would save Anicius from my toils. And she succeeds, the snake! She
opens the gates of conscience and weans my unfaithful chamberlain more
and more from me--of course only to keep him for herself."
"So you cannot imagine," said Cethegus, "that any woman can try to save
a soul?"
"Without profit? No. But at the same time she deceives herself and him
by pious speeches. And oh! how gladly the youth allows himself to be
saved by this youthful blooming saint from the arms of the faded
woman--who is wasted before her time! Ha!" she added passionately,
starting from her seat, "how pitiable that the body must succumb from
fatigue before the soul has half satisfied its thirst for life! And to
live is to rule, to hate, and to love!"
"You seem insatiable in these arts and enjoyments."
"Yes," cried Theodora, "and I am proud of it. Must I indeed leave the
richly-spread table of existence, must I leave this imperial throne,
with all my ardent love of joy and power still unquenched? Shall I only
sip a few more drops? Oh, Nature is a miserable blunderer! Once in many
thousand ages she creates, amid a host of cripples, ugly in body and
weak in mind, a soul and body like mine, perfect and strong, and full
of the longing to live and to enjoy for an eternity. And, when only six
lustres have passed, when I have scarcely sipped of the full cup
offered to me. Nature dries up the spring of life! A curse upon the
envy of the gods! But men can envy too, and envy changes them into
demons. Others shall not enjoy when I can do so no longer! Others shall
no more laugh when I must writhe in agony all night long! Antonina
shall not rejoice in her youth with the false man who was once mine and
yet could think of another, or of virtue, or of heaven! Anicius has
told me this very day that he can bear this life without fame and
honour no more--that heaven and earth call him away. He shall repent
it--together with her. Come, Cethegus," she said furiously, grasping
his arm, "come; we will destroy them both!"
"You forget," said Cethegus coldly, "that I have no reason to hate
either her or him. So what I do will be done for your sake."
"Not so, you wise and icy Roman! Do you believe that I do not see
through you?"
"I hope not," thought Cethegus.
"You wish to keep Belisarius away from Italy. You wish to fight and
conquer alone. Or at most with a shadow beside you, such as Bessas was
and Areobindos will be. Do you think I did not understand why you so
cleverly managed the recall of Belisarius when before Ravenna? Anxiety
for Justinian! What is Justinian to you?"
Cethegus felt his heart beat.
"The freedom of Rome!" continued Theodora. "Nonsense! You know that
only strong and simple men can be trusted with freedom. And you know
your Quirites. No, your aim lies higher."
"Is it possible that this woman guesses what all my enemies and friends
do not even suspect?" thought Cethegus.
"You wish to free Italy alone, and alone rule her as Justinian's
vice-regent. To be next to his throne, high above Belisarius and
Narses, and second only to Theodora. And if there were any higher goal,
yours would be the spirit to fly at it."
Cethegus breathed again.
"That would hardly be worth the trouble," he thought.
"Oh," continued Theodora, "it is a proud feeling to be the first of
Justinian's servants!"
"Of course," thought Cethegus, "she is not capable of imagining
anything superior to her husband, although she deceives him daily."
"And," Theodora went on, "to rule _him_, the Emperor, in company with
me."
"The flattering atmosphere of this court dulls even the clearest
intellect," thought Cethegus. "It is the madness of the purple. She can
only think of herself as all-commanding."
"Yes, Cethegus," continued Theodora; "I would allow no other man even
to _think_ of this. But I will help you to obtain it. With you I will
share the mastery of the world. Perhaps only because I remember many a
foolish youthful dream. Do you still remember how, years ago, we shared
two cushions in my little villa? We called them the Orient and the
Occident. It was an omen. So will we now share the Orient and the
Occident. Through my Justinian I will rule the Orient. Through my
Cethegus I will rule the Occident!"
"Ambitious, insatiable woman!" thought Cethegus. "Oh that Mataswintha
had not died! She at this court--and you would sink for ever!"
"But to gain this," said Theodora, "Belisarius must be got out
of the way. Justinian had resolved to send him once more as your
commander-in-chief to Italy."
Cethegus frowned.
"He trusts again and again to his dog-like fidelity. He must be
thoroughly convinced of his falsity."
"That will be difficult to manage," said Cethegus. "Theodora will
sooner learn to be faithful than Belisarius to be false."
A blow from Theodora's little hand was the punishment for this speech.
"To you, foolishly, I have been ever faithful--that is, in affection.
Do you want Belisarius again in Italy?"
"On no account!"
"Then help me to ruin him, together with Anicius, the son of Boethius."
"So be it," said the Prefect. "I have no reason to spare the brother of
Severinus. But how can you possibly bring proofs against Belisarius? I
am really curious. If you accomplish _that_, I will declare myself no
less a novice in plots and machinations than in love and hatred."
"And that you are, you dull son of Latium! Now listen. But it is such a
dangerous subject, that I must beg thee, Galatea, to keep watch that no
one comes and listens. No, my good mother, not inside! I beg thee;
_outside_ the door. Leave me alone with the Prefect: it is--more's the
pity--no secret of love?"
When, after some time, the Prefect left the room, he said to himself:
"If this woman were a man--I should kill her! She would be more
dangerous than the barbarians and Belisarius together! But then,
certainly, the iniquity would be neither so inscrutable nor so
devilish!"