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[Illustration: [_From an oil painting by the Author in the possession of
Edwin Jenkins, Esq._]]
SARONIA
A Romance of Ancient Ephesus
BY
RICHARD SHORT
[Illustration]
LONDON
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.
1900
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE AGORA 1
II. THE MESSENGER OF EROS 4
III. THE CURSE OF HECATE 9
IV. SANCTUARY 18
V. THE TEMPLE OF DIANA 23
VI. LUCIUS 28
VII. CAUGHT 34
VIII. PAYING THEIR VOWS 38
IX. THE STUDIO OF CHIOS 41
X. THE RIBBON OF GOLD 46
XI. THE PRIESTESS OF DIANA 50
XII. THE FESTIVAL OF ARTEMIS 53
XIII. CHIOS THE GREEK 60
XIV. THE GROVE OF HECATE 66
XV. AT VENUSTA'S HOUSE 76
XVI. A GARDEN ON CORESSUS 83
XVII. THE PICTURE 85
XVIII. WARNING 91
XIX. THE DAWN OF FAITH 97
XX. PLEADING 105
XXI. THE WITCH 108
XXII. THE LOVE-PHILTRE 111
XXIII. THE CHARMED WINE 120
XXIV. THE MINSTREL 125
XXV. THE SACRED HOUNDS 131
XXVI. ON THE VERGE 135
XXVII. ONE FOR ANOTHER 145
XXVIII. SPIRITS OF THE DEEP 153
XXIX. MYRTLE AND OLEANDER 162
XXX. BY THE RIVER CAYSTER 165
XXXI. THE DOOMED CITY 171
XXXII. ENDORA 175
XXXIII. NIKA 180
XXXIV. THE HOROSCOPE 184
XXXV. THE VIRGIN CAVE 191
XXXVI. REVERIE 195
XXXVII. THE MESSAGE 199
XXXVIII. THE DEAD PRIEST 204
XXXIX. CONSTERNATION 209
XL. TWO MASTER MINDS 212
XLI. DAYBREAK 221
XLII. VARRO 227
XLIII. MYSTERY 231
XLIV. ACRATUS, THE TEMPLE SPOILER 235
XLV. REVELATION 238
XLVI. THE CROWN OF LIFE 249
XLVII. PARTING 253
SARONIA
CHAPTER I
THE AGORA
The sun had risen in all its splendour, and was flooding the bay and
mountains with silvery light. The river Cayster moved on its course, and
mixed its waters with the blue of the AEgean Sea, and washed the shores
of Samos, appearing like a purple vision on the ocean. Boats and ships
of quaint form and gorgeous colouring, propelled by a gentle breeze,
moved to and fro, and glided up the shining way which led to the great
city of Ephesus, the chief of Ionia, and the home of the goddess. Not
far away was shining like a brilliant star the marble pillars of the
Temple of Diana. Ephesus was now fully awake, and the people were moving
along its streets, some wending their way to the temples to offer their
morning devotions, others hastening to the great theatre, and many more
directing their course towards their daily toil; for men must work, even
within the precincts of a city where all is splendour. The city, with
its wealth of art and stores of gold, was envied of conquerors. Situated
between the mountains, its inhabitants had a noble chance of making it
beautiful, and, being skilled in art and endowed with learning, they
built temples of the noblest design, erected statues of the richest
order, painted pictures of the grandest conception. Odeum and theatre
all sprang forth in magical beauty and power, whilst villas replete with
elegance combined to make it one of the loveliest cities, surrounded
with hills and groves and the traditions of a line of centuries.
The great market was being filled with men and women offering the most
tempting products of the land. Groups were selling and buying fruits,
flowers and perfumes, bread, fish and wine. Ribbon-sellers,
chaplet-weavers, money-changers--all were there; and the people
purchased for their daily needs, whilst others bought rich offerings for
the temples of their goddess and their gods.
Here and there the ground was covered with flowers of richest shades and
sweetest fragrance, and great branches with clustering blossoms of
crimson oleander and myrtle lay around.
From the house of the Roman Lady Venusta the slave Saronia had come to
buy. She was clothed in the simplest manner, tall and beautifully
formed, with eyes speaking a tale of sadness and a weariness of life; a
dignified slave, but a slave nevertheless, purchased but a year ago, and
brought hither by a trading-barque from Sidon, in Phoenicia, where she
had served as a slave from childhood.
She gathered together her pomegranates, citrons, almonds, olives, and
flowers, placed them in her basket of wickerwork, walked out of the
market, and passed up the way which led to the home of her mistress. But
the splendour to which she hastened was a prison to her. She so full of
young life, she who felt within her the rising for supremacy (an
unquenchable spirit), she with a mystic flame burning up her soul, felt
it was not a home but a waiting-place until the Fates passed by and led
her on.
True, Venusta treated Saronia fairly well, but Nika, her daughter, hated
her--from the first she hated her. And why this hate? Nika herself could
scarcely say; but who has not felt this subtle power to love or hate at
first sight--an intuitive something which draws or repels without our
reason or consent? Perhaps it was the great sadness of Saronia's eyes,
the overflowing influence of a mighty spirit, that Nika disliked so
much; or perhaps it was that when Chios, the Greek, came to visit the
Romans, he spoke kindly to the slave, and thus Nika detested her. It may
be so.
Passing by the great theatre and the Odeum, she went up the shaded way
over the side of Mount Coressus, and came to the beautiful home of
Venusta, passed in laden with fruit and flowers, great clusters of
sweet-scented blossoms falling from the basket as she raised it from her
head. For a moment she stood as in a dream, with girdled drapery falling
to her feet, and her gaze firmly fixed upon the great temple appearing
full in view as she looked through the window, which allowed the
sunlight to penetrate into her room.
That night, when her work was done, she mounted the marble steps
surrounding the house, and breathed the pleasant, perfumed air which
came down the mountain-side and danced through the myrtle groves.
The moon had well-nigh reached her meridian and sent forth her pale,
cool light, bathing the city in its glory, making the great hills look
so strange and lonely, as star after star struggled to show their
quivering rays; but the light of the Queen of Heaven, the great Moon
Goddess, absorbed them all.
'Twas then the spirit of the girl was moved, and she said to herself:
'Ah! what am I, most Holy Mother, most chaste Luna, great Orb which
symbols forth all Nature's mother, thou great Ashtoreth whom I was
taught to adore in childhood when in Sidon? Well do I remember when I
raised my tiny hand and kissed it unto thee. And they tell me here,
also, thou art the same mother, but under another name; that in Ionia
they call thee Diana instead of Ashtoreth, and that yonder mighty temple
is thy dwelling-place, around whose sacred pillars spreads a sanctuary
where those who flee are safe. Holy Mother! May I flee to thee? They say
even a slave may come to thy sanctuary, and once there with a just
cause, is ever safe from the fiercest Roman or the rudest Greek.'
And thus she spoke until a flock of night-birds flew along and like a
cloud obscured the moon, and a voice, sounding like a silver lute,
seemed to say:
'My face is veiled with earth-born things; those birds are dark to thee,
but every wing before my gaze is tipped with light and silver sheened.
So shalt thou see thy sorrows when thou fully knowest me.'