THE PICTURE
The day arrived for the election of High Priestess of Diana, and, as was
generally expected within the Temple, Saronia was chosen to occupy that
exalted position. When the people heard of this they were amazed, for
amongst them she was scarcely known, excepting for her kindly manner and
beautiful presence. Few, if any, outside the Temple recognised in her
any of those superior intellectual attainments which were expected in
the person who undertook the highest and most sacred duties of the
Temple. Consequent on the election of a comparatively unknown girl,
inquiries were numerous, asking who she was and whence she came,
springing like a comet out of the gray depths of the sky; and when reply
was made that she had been a slave to the wife of Lucius, many
marvelled, and said it was the hand of the goddess who raised one of low
degree to sit upon the golden throne; whilst among the noble families of
Rome great curiosity was manifested to glean from her former mistress
what she was like--what was thought of her; in fact, they wished to know
all about the former slave. And thus, in a brief period, Saronia became
the most notable person in all Ephesus and throughout Ionia, into Lydia,
Caria, Pamphylia and Phrygia, and over the sea to Greece.
It was during this excitement Nika came to the studio of Chios. It was
her first visit. Never did the girl look more beautiful. She greeted the
artist with a smile, and sat down upon one of the lovely couches.
Casting aside her richly-embroidered cloak, she revealed her snow-white
garments clinging in folds around her graceful form. Her hair fell
forward on either side, leaving an arched temple smooth as marble, and
waved away over her ears till it was caught by an azure ribbon flecked
with gold. Then she laughed a merry peal of laughter, and said:
'Art thou glad to see me?'
'I am, Nika. Thou bringest sunshine into the place. It lights up thy
face and twinkles like stars in thy beautiful hair. One requires a
cheerful sitter to make a good likeness, for, after all, the poor artist
has only a few pigments to portray the loveliest of creatures.'
'Now, now, silence, flatterer! To business. How intendest thou to treat
the subject which may represent me? Say, wilt thou paint me as Ariadne
in Naxos?'
'No; the subject ill befits these joyous times. Ariadne lost her lover;
thou hast gained one, and retainest him with chains of brass. I will
paint thee as thou reclinest. Keep thou the cheerful mood, and Nika
shall see how she looks when she is happy.'
'Must I not rearrange those wandering locks?'
'No; the light dances between the shadows like children at play. Let
them remain.'
'Very well, Chios. Thou art an obliging man. I will do my best to remain
as steady as Olympus. May I converse?'
'Freely, if thou pleasest.'
After the sitting was completed, she felt that she had never spent a
happier day, and said:
'When may I come again?'
'To-morrow, at the same hour. I will paint thee whilst in such merry
mood. Good-bye, Nika; greetings to thy mother.'
The next day, and from time to time, she came to Chios, until the
painting was well-nigh finished.
One evil day she came and reclined upon her accustomed couch. Chios was
absent. After a while she arose, and moved around the room. Behind a
curtain of splendid tapestry, half hid, she saw a picture o'er which was
thrown a screen of yellow silk. She would see the painting on the hidden
panel; she would lift the veil--see the goddess. What fun she would have
with Chios! Perchance 'twas some Ionian beauty or Carian girl who had
smitten him suddenly. Should she risk it? Yes--no--perhaps he might come
swiftly and be annoyed. So she moved away--stood still for a moment.
'See it I must. If caught, I will laugh away his censure--shine out on
him in all my splendour and burn up his reproof.'
So she stepped forward and raised the yellow silk concealing the picture
of Saronia as High Priestess of Diana, and as that dark, mysterious face
met her gaze, she uttered a piercing shriek, and fell to the ground.
Chios heard it, and rushed within. Seeing the curtain disturbed, he took
in the whole position, and, darting forward, found Nika lying
unconscious. He raised her and laid her on the couch. Her flowing hair
had burst its bands and fallen over her shoulders. He tried to rouse
her, called her name, and said: 'Chios is here, Nika, awake!' But she
lay as one who was dead.
What could be done? Her bosom heaved--she was not dead--she would come
to again. He could not leave her for assistance, for if she awoke and
found herself alone, she might die. He knelt by her side, and chafed her
hands; but it was of no avail. Just then a thought came into his mind.
He would paint her as she slumbered in that death-like swoon. He seized
his brushes, and quickly wrought a picture--sketchy, but true--and when
it was drawn he called it 'Death.' Then came signs of awakening. Tears
flowed from the half-opened eyes, and rushes of colour, like the morning
sunrise, stole over her cheeks. Then the mists cleared away, and she saw
Chios kneeling before her, and, with a wild, convulsive start, she fell
upon his neck, crying, 'Save me! save me!'
And Chios answered:
'Thou art safe. What fearest thou?'
'I fear the face of Saronia. I shall never forget it. It is like when I
fell before her as she cursed me.'
'Calm thyself! I tell thee again there is nothing to fear. I am with
thee--no harm shall befall.'
'Dost thou not fear her thyself?'
'No.'
'Then--thou lovest her?'
'What madness seizes thee? How can I love a sacred priestess of the holy
Temple?'
'A woman is quick to read a man. Whether thou knowest it fully or not, I
tell thee thou lovest Saronia, the chief of the priestesses of the
mighty goddess. Chios, thou hast power over this fearful being! Oh that
she were not a priestess!'
'Why so? What difference would it make to thee?'
'All.'
'Tell me what thou meanest.'
'This. If it were possible for thee to approach her, thou couldst
intercede for me. The curse might be removed from off this soul; bit by
bit, as the sun darkens by eclipse, so my spirit grows more night-like,
and soon my lamp shall go out in darkness. I know it is impossible for
thee to speak to her, or I would ask thee, but canst thou not send to
her privately? Love thee I am certain she does. This curse somehow
sharpens my intellect, and my inner sight is clearer. I perceive things
which wound me sorely. If she loves thee, she cannot deny thee. Wilt
thou help me? Thou hatest me not, neither dost thou love me. All this I
have seen long since; but I love thee dearly. What need have I to say
this? Thou art already aware of it. It is not meet I should thus speak,
seeing I am betrothed to Varro. It is not chaste to unburden my feelings
in this manner, but my so doing will not injure the Roman or conjure up
the fire of love in Chios for Nika. No, it will not harm.'
'Nika!'
'Listen, Chios. I would die for thee. Is not this love worthy of thy
regard, worthy of an effort on thy part? Wilt thou not take pity on a
poor outcast soul? And, Chios, if thou art vexed with me for divining
thy love for Saronia--vexed with my love for thee--then, if I cannot
banish such love--the curse of a love for thee without a love in
return--then, forgive me, and I will bury it, that it may never rise
again from the grave of my heart. Oh, help me--help me!'
'Nika, hear me calmly. There was a time when I could speak to Saronia;
but she now soars to an altitude unapproachable, and I can follow her
only afar off. I dare not send a message to her. She, who stands first
of Ionian women, Queen of the World next the goddess, how is it
possible?'
'Chios, all things are possible whilst life lasts. If death cut us down
in the endeavour, then there is an end of it; but to dare unto death
requires love stronger than life. Command me to see her on thy behalf,
and I will speak to her or die in the attempt.'
'Good girl, I do not require thine assistance. I have no message for
her. How can I help thee? Would that I could! Let me think for a moment.
I have a plan--the Roman! Thou hast influence with him, say?'
'He adores me.'
'Then propose to him that I paint Saronia. Thou hast seen the picture.
It is like her, is it not?'
'It is, truly so.'
'Well, no one knows I am engaged on this work but Varro, and he caught a
glimpse of it; we can make it necessary that I should see her at the
Temple. If the Roman offer to present the picture, this will be granted.
He is wealthy and can pay a large sum for the painting, but I will
return every coin. If my greatest work can aid you, freely, freely will
I give it; but, hear me, this will be a fruitless endeavour.'
'How so?'
'Because, if such a curse is on thee, it is not the curse of Saronia.
She would not blast thee. If such a thing exists, it is the curse of
Hecate. The priestess had never the power to conceive it, neither the
strength to kill it; but hear me further. I do not believe thou art
cursed. My view of a presiding demon or divinity runs not in such
direction. Gods and goddesses roam not to and fro blasting spirits of
mortals in such manner. It is an idea born of older times, and doubtless
will survive down the ages until men grow wiser; then such nonsense will
be looked upon with ridicule, and become a thing of the past.'
Nika shuddered, and said:
'Would I could think so! I know what I say is true--I am as certain of
it as that I exist. Were I bereft of reason and madness clothed me as
with a garment, yet this curse, burnt into my soul with letters of fire,
would be understood in all its power to me.'
'It is useless talking to thee, foolish girl. I will do as thou wishest
with the picture of Saronia.'
'And I will away and do my part, and hope, ere many days are ended, thy
project may bear fruit.'
Pale and agitated, she arose to go. Chios said:
'I will accompany thee and pay my respects to thy mother;' and gathering
a bunch of orange-blossom and roses, he gave them to Nika.