Meanwhile, slowly walking up the high-road, the two men whom Crispus
had announced were approaching the villa; they often stood still,
interrupting their progress with an animated conversation.
"No, no," warned the money-dealer, shaking his bald head, which, in
spite of the sun, was uncovered, and striking with his staff on the
hard road, "such haste, such violence, such impetuosity, as thy
passionate longing craves, will not answer, O friend Tribune. Only
leave me alone! We are on the right, the safe way."
"Thy way is a crooked, weary, roundabout way, a snail-pace," cried the
soldier impatiently, and he threw back his proud head so that the black
plume of his helmet rustled on the links of his armour. "To what
purpose are these ceremonies? They do not hasten the time when you
shall add the little property to your vast possessions. And I--I cannot
sleep since the sight of this young woman has inflamed my passions. My
heart beats to breaking. All night I toss on my hot couch. By the
ungirdled Astarte of Tripolis! I _will_ have this slender Felicitas!
And I _must_ have her, or my veins will burst." And his fiery black
eyes flashed.
"Thou shalt have her, only patience."
"No! no patience. A sword-thrust will make the milk-sop of a husband
cold; in these arms will I lift the struggling one on Pluto, my black
horse, and quick to the Capitol, even if all the market-women of
Juvavum raise an outcry behind me."
"Murder and rape! Thou knowest the punishment."
"Bah! Would an accuser come forward? And the Emperor? The Emperor of
_Juvavum_--is myself. Let us see who will climb the walls of my
Capitolium."
"The Cross, my roaring Leo, the Cross and the Presbyter. No, no, it
must not be an open sin crying to heaven. True, the Judge and his
lictors are weak in this land, which is almost given up by Rome. But
the Church is so much the stronger. If the haggard, white-bearded
Johannes thrust thee out, thou art a lost man. No pound of meat, no cup
of wine, will the people of Juvavum again sell to thee."
"I will take what I need with my lancers."
"But thy lancers are Mauritanians: pious Christians, baptised by the
Presbyter. See if they will follow, if the old man have cursed thee."
"I will strike him dead after, or rather, before the curse," cried the
officer, and he made a quick step forwards; his long dark-red mantle
floated in the wind.
But the money-changer again stopped, adjusting with his bony fingers
his yellow tunic.
"How useless! Dost thou not know that _they_ are immortal? If thou
strikest _one_ dead, the Bishop sends another. And they are all
alike--much more than thy soldiers resemble each other. And I--I would
not look at thee across the street if thou wert thrust out from the
Holy Church."
But now the soldier stopped and laughed aloud: "Thou! Zeno of
Byzantium! Thou believest as little in the Holy Church as Leo himself.
And it is my opinion, that thy soul-destroying usury is not regarded
more favourably by the saints, than my trifle of pleasure in love and
murder. What hast thou to do with the Church?"
"I will tell thee, thou rash son of Mars. I _fear_ her! She is the only
power now left in these lands. The Emperor is far away, his officers
are all venal; the barbarians are like the storm, they bluster around
us, we bend to them, and they again bluster away; but the Church is
everywhere, even if only a single priest says mass in a half-ruined
house of prayer. And the priest is not to be bought. The miserable
creature dares not live like a man, so he needs nothing; and all who
hope for heaven follow him, that is to say: all fools. But woe to the
man who has the fools against him--he is lost. No, no! we must not
rouse the Church against us."
"I need him yet, the sneak!" grated Leo through his teeth, with an
angry look at his companion; and he impatiently pushed aside his short,
broad sword in the finely-worked scabbard.
"For that reason truly, I have to serve you," continued the merchant.
"For a good reward," interrupted Leo scornfully.
"But which, alas! I have yet only received in half."
"The other half when I have the gazelle-eyed beauty in my chamber."
"For that reason I have taken all this trouble, woven all these meshes,
and gathered them in my hand; one jerk, and the net closes over the
head of the stone-mason; he and the sweet nymph struggle therein,
defenceless, powerless, and best of all, without a right. Emperor and
Church can look on whilst thou seizest the bird, and I the land. Not
that it is valuable; but it rounds off my fields here. I can then more
easily sell the whole to a great lord in Italy."
"I also do not intend to keep the fragile creature long; only through
the autumn and winter. When the slave-dealers come here in summer from
Antioch, I shall sell her at a high price. This half-bluish white of
the eyes is much sought for. Whence has she it?"
"From Hellas or Ionia. Her parents were slaves of a Greek trader in
purple, who died here on the return journey from Pannonia. They declare
that the old man set them free before his death; they then carried on a
little trade in salt. When they also died, the child became the wife of
their neighbour's son, the stone-mason, who had grown up with her. I am
eager to know if they have preserved the letter of emancipation. If
not, then good-night, Felicitas! We are now at our goal; the foot-path
here turns down, from the main road towards the Mercurius Hill.
Moderate, I beseech thee, the violence and the eagerness in thine eyes,
or thou wilt spoil all."
"I have not been born or trained to wait."
Thereupon the Tribune approached the open entrance of the garden. Zeno
followed slowly. The setting sun threw its beams fully on the
threshold-stone and the newly-cut inscription.
"Hic habitat Felicitas!" read the Tribune. "For yet how long?" asked
he, laughing.
"Nihil mali intret!" concluded the merchant. "It is well that wishes
are not bolts."
"Or _we_ should not come in!" said the other; and he trod scornfully
with a quick step on the neat letters. These were rubbed smooth as a
mirror with fresh oil. Leo's foot slipped, he staggered, tried to
recover himself, stumbled again, and fell with a cry of pain on the
stone slab, helmet and armour loudly rattling.