Not long after Porphyrius and the philosopher had retired to a private
room Herse returned with Dada. Gorgo's blue spangled dress, which Damia
had sent her, suited the girl to perfection; but she was quite out of
breath, and her hair was in disorder. Herse, too, looked agitated, her
face was red and she dragged little Papias, whose hand she held, rather
roughly at her heels.
Dada was evidently abashed; less by reason of the splendor that
surrounded her than because her foster-mother had strictly enjoined her
to be very quiet and mannerly in the presence of their patrons. She felt
shy and strange as she made her low courtesy to the old lady; but Damia
seemed to be pleased with the timid grace of her demeanor, for she
offered her her hand--an honor she usually conferred only on her
intimates, bid her stoop, and gave her a kiss, saying kindly: "You are a
good brave girl. Fidelity to your friends is pleasing in the sight of
the gods, and finds its reward even among men."
Dada, obeying a happy impulse, threw herself on her knees before the old
woman, kissed her hands, and then, sitting on her heels, nestled at her
feet.
Gorgo, however, noticing Herse's agitation, asked what had happened to
them. Some monks, Herse explained, had followed them on the road hither,
had snatched Dada's lyre from the slave who was carrying it and pulled
the wreath out of her hair. Damia was furious as she heard it, and
trembled with rage as she railed at the wild hordes who disgraced and
desecrated Alexandria, the sacred home of the Muses; then she began to
speak once more of the young captain, Mary's son, to whom the troupe of
singers owed their lives.
"Marcus," said she, "is said to be a paragon of chastity. He races in
the hippodrome with all the gallants of the town and yet--if it is true
it is a miracle--he shuns women as though he were a priest already. His
mother is very anxious that he should become one; but he, by the grace of
Aphrodite, is the son of my handsome Appelles, who, if he had gazed into
those blue eyes all the way from Rome to Alexandria, would have
surrendered at mercy; but then he would also have conquered them--as
surely as I hope to live till autumn. You need not blush so, child.
After all, Marcus is a man like other men. Keep your eyes open, Dame
Herse!"
"Never fear!" cried Herse. "And I have need to keep them open I am
sorry to say. The young captain, who on board ship was so bashful and
retiring, as soon as he was on land altered his time. While we were away
this morning he crept into his own mother's inn like a ferret, opened the
door of our room with the keys of which he has the command--it is
shameful!--and proposed to the girl to fly, to leave us--she is the
daughter of a dear sister of mine--and go with him; who but he knows
where!"
Damia struck the floor with her crutch and, interrupting the indignant
matron with a spiteful laugh, exclaimed:
"Ha, ha! The saintly Mary's most saintly son! Such wonders do not
happen every day! Here, Dada--here; take this ring, it has been worn by
a woman who once was young and who has had many lovers. Close--come
close, my sweet child."
Dada looked up at the old lady with puzzled eyes; Damia bent her head
close to the girl's, and whispered, softly but vehemently in her ear:
"Only turn that milksop's head, make him so madly and desperately in love
with you that he does not know which way to turn for delicious torment.
You can do it I know, and if you do--well, I make no promises; but on the
day when all Alexandria is talking of that woman's son as wandering out,
night after night, to watch under the window of the fair Dada, the
heathen singer--when he drives you out in the face of day and in his own
chariot, down the Canopic Way and past his mother's door--then child,
ask, claim whatever you will, and old Damia will not refuse it."
Then raising her head she added to the others:
"In the afternoon, my friends, you can take possession of your new
quarters. Go with them, Dada. By-and-bye we will find you a pretty room
in the tower. Come and see me very often, sweet one, and tell me all
your prettiest tales. When I am not too busy I shall always be glad to
see you, for you and I have a secret you know."
The girl stood up, looking uneasily at the old woman; Damia nodded
knowingly, as much as to say that they quite understood each other and
again offered her hand to Dada; but Dada could not kiss it; she turned
and followed the others more gravely than usual.
Gorgo guessed what the old lady would be at with Dada; as soon as the
party of singers had taken leave she went up to her grandmother and said
reproachfully:
"That little fair thing will find no difficulty in making a fool of
Marcus; for my part I hardly know him, but why should he pay for his
mother's sins against you? How can he help. . ."
"He cannot help it," interrupted Damia with decisive abruptness. "He can
do nothing to save his mother, any more than you can help being a child
of twenty and bound to hold your tongue till your opinion is asked."
...........................
The family of musicians had all met on board the barge which was lying at
anchor in the lake, off the ship-yard. Orpheus had just been an eye-
witness of the disturbance which prevailed throughout the city, and the
wild howls and cries that were audible in the distance confirmed his
report; but the waters of the lake were an unruffled mirror of blue, the
slaves in the ship-yard were at work as usual, and the cooing turtle-
doves flew from palm to palm.
No signs of troubled times were to be seen in the floating home of the
wanderers. The steward had provided for everything. There were rooms
and beds to spare in the vessel; the large deck-cabin was a comfortable
sitting-room, and from the little galley at the prow came a savory smell
of cooking and a cheerful clang of pots and pans.
"This is living!" exclaimed Karnis, stretching himself comfortably on a
divan. "This abode seems made on purpose for our noble selves! Sit
down, mother, make yourself at home. Here we are people of consequence,
and if it were only to make things pleasant for the slaves we must behave
as though we had never known people who take their meals squatted round
an earthen bowl, and clawing out the broken meat. Enjoy the gifts of the
present--who knows how long this golden hour may last! Ah, wife, it
reminds us of former times! It would be very pleasant to be like this,
side by side, and help ourselves from a table all our own to dainty
dishes which we had not assisted in cooking. For you, old woman, have
done everything with your own hands for so long, that you deserve to have
some one to wait on you for once."
A little table was placed by each divan and covered with appetizing food;
the steward mixed some fine wine of the country with fresh, clear water,
Orpheus offered the libation, and Karnis spiced the meal with jests and
tales of his youth, of which he had been reminded by his meeting with his
old friend and comrade Olympius.
Dada interrupted him frequently, laughing more loudly and recklessly than
usual; she was in a fever of excitement and Herse did not fail to remark
it. The good woman was somewhat uneasy. The very fact that her husband
always gave himself up heart and soul to the influences of the hour--
though she was glad that he should enjoy this good fortune to the utmost-
-made her look beyond the present into the future. She had seen with her
own eyes the tumult that was rife in Alexandria, and felt that they had
arrived at an inauspicious moment. If it should come to a struggle
between the Christians and the Heathen, Karnis, finding that his old
friend Olympius was the head of his party, would infallibly seize the
sword, and if, then, the victory remained with the Christians no mercy
would be shown to those who had fought for the old gods. Gorgo's wish
that Agne should sing in the temple of Isis was another source of
anxiety; for if it came to that they might, only too probably, be accused
of perverting a Christian to heathen worship, and be condemned to a
severe penalty. All this had worn a very different aspect yesterday when
she had thought of Alexandria as the gay home of her youth; but now she
saw what a change had taken place in these thirty years. The Church had
risen on the ruins of the Temple, and monks had forced the sacrificing
priests into the background.
Karnis and his troupe were musicians of no ordinary stamp; still the law
concerning singing-girls might place him in peril, especially now that--
to make matters worse--a young Christian was paying court to his pretty
niece. What catastrophes might not be called down on his hapless head if
so influential a woman as Marcus' mother Mary should come to know of her
son's backsliding! Herse had long perceived how attractive that little
simpleton was to all men--old and young--and when one of the lovers, of
whom she had no lack, happened to take her fancy she was apt to forget
herself and play a too audacious game; but as soon as she found she had
gone too far and somewhat committed herself she would draw back and meet
him, if she could not avoid him, with repellent and even unmannerly
coldness. Again and again had Herse scolded and warned her, but Dada
always answered her reproofs by saying that she could not make herself
different from what she was, and Herse had never been able to remain
stern and severe in the face of the foolish excuses that Dada put forward
so convincingly.
To-day the good woman could not quite make up her mind whether it would
be wiser to warn Dada against Marcus and desire her to repel any advances
he might attempt to make, or to let bygones be bygones. She knew full
well how a trifling incident gains importance when undue emphasis is laid
on it; she therefore had merely asked the girl what secret she could have
with old Damia and had accepted some evasive subterfuge in reply, while,
at the same time, she guessed the truth and was quite determined not to
remit her watchfulness. For a time, at any rate, she thought she would
let matters go their own way, and never mention the young fellow's name;
but her husband spoilt this plan, for with the eager jollity of a man
very much at his ease after a good dinner he called upon Dada to tell
their the whole history of the young Christian's invasion in the morning.
Dada at first was reticent, but the old man's communicative humor proved
infectious and she presently told her story:
"I was sitting alone with the poor little boy, like--well I do not know
what like--you must find a comparison for yourselves. I was comforting
myself with the reflection that the key was on the inside and the door
locked, for I was getting frightened as the monks began to sing in the
yard below, one part going off to the left, as it were, and the other
part to the right. Did you ever see two drunken men walking arm in arm,
and lurching first to one side and then to the other? You may laugh,
but by the nine Muses it was just like that. Then Papias grew tired and
cross and kept asking where Agne was, till at last he began to cry. When
I asked him what he was crying for, he said he had forgotten, I really am
patient--you must all allow that--I did not do anything to him, but, just
to give him something to play with, I took out the key, for there was
nothing else at hand that he could not break, and gave it to him and told
him to play a tune on it. This delighted him, and he really did it quite
prettily. Then I looked over my burnt dress and was horrified to see how
large the holes were, and it struck me that I might turn it, because when
you turn a thing the spots, you know, do not show."
"You have invented that this very minute," cried Orpheus laughing.
"We know you. If you can only turn the laugh against yourself. . ."
"No, really," cried Dada, "the idea flew through my head like a bird
through a room; but I remembered at once that a hole burnt through shows
on both sides, so I threw the dress aside as past mending and sat down on
the low stool to peep through the wicket by the door out at the yard; the
singing had stopped and the silence frightened me almost as much. Papias
had stopped his piping too, and was sitting in the corner where Orpheus
sat to write his letter to Tauromenium."
"I know," said Orpheus, "the inkstand was there, that the steward of the
inn had lent us the day before."
"Just so; and when mother came in, there he was, dipping his finger in
the ink, and painting his white dress--you can study the pattern at your
leisure.--But no not interrupt me.--Well, I was looking into the court-
yard; it was quite empty; all the monks were gone. Suddenly a tall young
man in a white dress with a beautiful sky-blue border appeared through
the great gate. The gate-keeper crawled after him very humbly as far as
his rope would allow and even the steward spoke to him with both hands
pressed to his breast as if he had a faithful heart on the right side as
well as the one on the left. This young man--it was our kind friend
Marcus, of course--crossed the court, taking a zigzag at first, as a
snipe flies, and then came towards our door. The steward and the gate-
keeper had both vanished.--Do you remember the young Goths whom their
father took to bathe in the Tiber last winter, when it was so cold? And
how they first stood on the brink and dipped their toes in, and then ran
away and when they came back again just wetted their heads and chests?
But they had to jump in at last when their father shouted some barbaric
words to them--I can see them now. Well, Marcus was exactly like those
boys; but at last he suddenly walked straight up to our door and
knocked."
"He remembered your pretty face no doubt," laughed Karnis.
"May be. However, I did not stir. I kept as still as a mouse, sitting
on my stool and watching him through the key-hole, till presently he
called out: 'Is no one there?' Then I forgot and answered: 'They are all
out!' Of course I had betrayed myself--but it is impossible to think of
everything at once. Oh! yes--you may laugh. And he smiled too--he is a
very handsome fellow--and desired me most pressingly to open the door as
he had something of the greatest importance to say to me. I said he
could talk very well through the gap at the top; that Pyramus and Thisbe
had even kissed through a chink in a wall. But he would not see the
joke; he got graver and more earnest, and insisted, saying that our fate,
his and mine, hung on that hour, and that not a soul must overhear what
he had to say. The top of the door was too high to whisper through, so
there was nothing for it but to ask Papias for the key; however, he did
not know where he had put it. I afterwards thought of asking him what he
had done with his flute and he fetched it then at once.--In short, the
key was nowhere to be found. I told Marcus this and he wrung his hands
with vexation; but in a few minutes the inn-steward, who must have been
hiding to listen behind a pillar, suddenly appeared as if he had dropped
from the skies, took a key out of his girdle, threw the door wide open,
and vanished as if the earth had swallowed him.
"There we stood, Marcus and I, face to face. He was quite agitated; I
really believe the poor fellow was trembling, and I did not feel very
confident; however, I asked him what it was that he wanted. Then he
recovered himself a little: 'I wished,'--he began; so I went on: 'Thou
wishedst,'--and it might have gone on to the end: 'he wished, we wished'
---and so forth, like the children at school at Rome, when we were
learning Greek; but, Papias came to the rescue, for he ran up to Marcus
and asked him to toss him up high, as he used to do on board ship.
Marcus did as he was asked, and then he suddenly broke out into such a
torrent of words that I was quite terrified. First he said so many fine
things that I quite expected a declaration of love, and was trying to
make up my mind whether I would laugh him out of it or throw myself into
his arms--for he really is a dear, good, handsome fellow--and if you
would like to know the truth I should have been very willing to oblige
him--to a certain extent. But he asked me nothing, and from talking of
me--listen to this Father Karnis--and saying that the great Father in
Heaven had granted me every good gift, he went on to speak of you as a
wicked, perverse and reprobate old heathen."
"I will teach him!" exclaimed Karnis shaking his fist.
"Nay, but listen," Dada went on. "He praised you and mother for a great
many things; but do you know what he says is wrong? He says you will
imperil my psyche--my soul, my immortal soul. As if I had ever heard of
any Psyche but the Psyche whom Eros loved!"
"That is quite another thing," said Karnis very seriously. "In many
songs, you know, I have tried to make you uplift your soul to a higher
flight. You have learnt to sing, and there is no better school for a
woman's soul than music and singing. If that conceited simpleton--why,
he is young enough to be my grandson--if he talks any such nonsense to
you again you may tell him from me . . ."
"You will tell him nothing," cried Herse, "for we can have nothing
whatever to do with the Christian. You are my own sister's child and I
desire and order you--do you hear--to keep out of his way, if he ever
tries to come near you again . . ."
"Who is likely to find us here?" said Dada. "Besides, he has no such
ideas and motives as you suppose. It is what he calls my soul that he
cares for and not myself; and he wanted to take me away, not to his own
house, but to some man who would be the physician of my soul, he said.
I am generally ready enough to laugh, but what he said was so impressive
and solemn, and so wonderfully earnest and startling that I could not
jest over it. At last I was more angry at his daring to speak to me in
such a way than any of you ever thought I could be, and that drove him
half mad. You came in, mother, just as the gentleman had fallen on his
knees to implore me to leave you."
"And I gave him my mind on the subject," retorted Herse with grim
satisfaction. "I let him know what I thought of him. He may talk about
the soul--what he is after is the girl. I know these Christians and I
know what the upshot will be. He will take advantage of the edict to
gain his ends, and then you will be separated from us and shut up in a
reformatory or a refuge or a cloister or whatever they call their dismal
prisons, and will learn more about your soul than you will care to know.
It will be all over then with singing, and laughter, and amusement. Now
you know the truth, and if you are wise you will keep out of his way till
we leave Alexandria; and that will be as soon as possible, if you listen
to reason, Karnis."
She spoke with such earnest conviction that Dada remained silent with
downcast eyes, and Karnis sat up to think the matter over.
However, there was no time now for further reflection; the steward came
in and desired that he, with his son and Agne should go at once to Gorgo
to practise the lament of Isis.
This command did not include Herse and Dada, who remained on the barge.
Herse having plenty to occupy her in the lower rooms, Dada went on deck
and watched the others on their way to the house; then she sat looking at
the shipwrights at their work and tossed fruit and sweetmeats, the
remains of their dessert, for the children to catch who were playing on
the shore. Meanwhile she thought over Marcus' startling speech, Damia's
injunctions and Herse's warnings.
At first it seemed to her that Herse might be right, but by degrees she
fell back into her old conviction that the young Christian could mean no
harm by her; and she felt as sure that he would find her out wherever she
might hide herself, as that it was her pretty and much-admired little
person that he sought to win, and not her soul--for what could such an
airy nothing as a soul profit a lover? How rapturously he had described
her charms, how candidly he had owned that her image was always before
him even in his dreams, that he could not and would not give her up--nay,
that he was ready to lay down his life to save her soul. Only a man in
love could speak like this and a man so desperately in love can achieve
whatever he will. On her way from the Xenodochium to the house of
Porphyrius she had passed him in his chariot, and had admired the
splendid horses which he turned and guided with perfect skill and grace.
He was scarcely three years older than herself; he was eighteen--but in
spite of his youth and simplicity he was not unmanly; and there was
something in him--something that compelled her to be constantly thinking
of him and asking herself what that something was. Old Damia's
instructions troubled her; they took much of the charm from her dream
of being loved by Marcus, clasped in his arms, and driven through the
city in his chariot.
It was impossible--yes, quite impossible, she was sure--that they should
have parted forever; as she sat, thinking still of him and glancing from
time to time at the toiling carpenters, a boat pulled up at the landing
close to the barge out of which jumped an officer of the imperial guard.
Such a handsome man! with such a noble, powerful, sunburnt face, a
lightly waving black beard, and hair that fell from under his gold
helmet! The short-sword at his side showed him to be a tribune or
prefect of cavalry, and what gallant deeds must not this brilliant and
glittering young warrior have performed to have risen to such high rank
while still so young! He stood on the shore, looking all round, his eyes
met hers and she felt herself color; he seemed surprised to see her there
and greeted her respectfully with a military salute; then he went on
towards the unfinished hulk of a large ship whose bare curved ribs one
or two foremen were busily measuring with tape and rule.
An elderly man of dignified aspect was standing close by, who, as Dada
had already discovered, was the head of the ship-yard, and the warrior
hastened towards him. She heard him say: "Father," and in the next
instant she saw the old man open his arms and the officer rush to
embrace him.
Dada never took her eyes off the couple who walked on, arm in arm and
talking eagerly, till they disappeared into a large house on the further
side of the dockyard.
"What a handsome man!" Dada repeated to herself, but while she waited to
see him return she gazed across the lake by which Marcus might find his
way to her. And as she lingered, idly dreaming, she involuntarily
compared the two men. There were fine soldiers in plenty in Rome, and
the ship-builder's son was in no particular superior to a hundred others;
but such a man as Marcus she had never before seen--there could hardly
be such another in the world. The young guard was one fine tree among a
grove of fine trees; but Marcus had something peculiar to himself, that
distinguished him from the crowd, and which made him exceptionally
attractive and lovable. His image at length so completely filled her
mind that she forgot the handsome officer, and the shipmaster and every
one else.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Christian hypocrites who pretend to hate life and love death
He may talk about the soul--what he is after is the girl
Love means suffering--those who love drag a chain with them
To her it was not a belief but a certainty
Trifling incident gains importance when undue emphasis is laid