neither heard nor said anything further. Nor had I planned, nor ever
thought of, what then occurred. . . . But suddenly I felt as if a
mountain of oppressive lead had fallen from my breast. How easily I
could breathe again! All that had just before turned round me in a mad,
whirling dance stood still. The sun shone brightly in the large room; a
shaft of light, showing dancing dust, fell on Geta. He sank on his knees
close to me, with my sword in his breast. My mother made a fruitless
effort to shield him. His blood trickled over her hand. I can still see
every ring on those slender, white fingers. I also remember distinctly
how, when I raised my sword against him, my mother rushed in between us
to protect her favorite. The sharp blade, as she tried to seize it,
accidentally grazed her hand--I know not how--only the skin was slightly
cut. Yet what a scream she gave over the wound which the son had given
his mother! Julia Maesa, her daughter Mammara, and the other women,
rushed in. How they exaggerated! They made a river out of every drop of
blood.
"So the dreadful deed was done; and yet, had I let the wretch live, I
should have been a traitor to Rome, to myself, and to my father's life's
work. That day, for the first time, I was ruler of the world. Those who
accuse me of fratricide no doubt believe themselves to be right. But
they certainly are not. I know better. You also know now with me that
destiny, and not I, struck Geta out from among the living."
Here he sat for some time in breathless silence. Then he asked Melissa:
"You understand now how I came to shed my brother's blood?"
She started, and repeated gently after him: "Yes, I understand it."
Deep compassion filled her heart, and yet she felt she dare not sanction
what she had heard and deplored. Torn by deep and conflicting feelings
she threw back her head, brushed her hair off her face, and cried: "Let
me go now; I can bear it no longer!"
"So soft-hearted?" asked he, and shook his head disapprovingly. "Life
rages more wildly round the throne than in an artist's home. You will
have to learn to swim through the roaring torrent with me. Believe me,
even enormities can become quite commonplace. And, besides, why does it
still shock you when you yourself know that it was indispensable?"
"I am only a weak girl, and I feel as if I had witnessed these fearful
deeds, and had to bear the terrible blood-guiltiness with you!" broke
from her lips.
"That is what you must and shall do! It is to that end that I have
confided to you what no one else has ever heard from my mouth!" cried
Caracalla, his eyes flashing more brightly. She felt as though this cry
called her from her slumbers and revealed the precipice to which she had
strayed in her sleepwalking.
When Caracalla had begun telling her of his youth, she had only listened
with half an ear; for she could not forget Berenike's rescuing ship. But
soon his confessions completely attracted her attention, and the lament
of this powerful man on whom so many injuries and wrongs had fallen, who
even in childhood had been deprived of the happiness of a mother's love,
had touched her tender heart. That which was afterward told to her she
had identified with her own humble life; she heard with a shudder that it
was to the malice of his brother that this unhappy being owed the injury
which, like a poisonous blight, had marred for him all the joys of
existence, while she owed all that was loveliest and best in her
young life to a brother's love.
The grounds on which Caracalla had based the assertion that destiny had
compelled him to murder Geta appeared to her young and inexperienced mind
as indisputable. He was only the pitiable victim of his birth and of a
cruel fate. Besides, the humblest and most sober-minded can not resist
the charm of majesty; and this hapless man, who had honored Melissa with
his confidence, and who had assured her so earnestly that she was of such
importance to him and could do so much for him, was the ruler of the
universe.
She had also felt, after Caesar's confession, that she had a right to be
proud, since he had thought her worthy to take an interest in the tragedy
in the imperial palace, as if she had been a member of the court. In her
lively imagination she had witnessed the ghastly act to which he--as she
had certainly believed, even when she had replied to his question--had
been forced by fate.
But the demand which had followed her answer now recurred to her. The
picture of Diodoros, which had completely vanished from her thoughts
while she had been listening, suddenly appeared to her, and, as she
fancied, he looked at her reproachfully.
Had she, then, transgressed against her betrothed?
No, no, indeed she had not!
She loved him, and only him; and for that very reason, her upright
judgment told her now, that it would be sinning against her lover to
carry out Caracalla's wish, as if she had become his fellow-culprit,
or certainly the advocate of the bloody outrage. She could think of no
answer to his "That is what you must and shall do!" that would not awaken
his wrath. Cautiously, and with sincere thanks for his confidence in
her, she begged him once more to allow her to leave him, because she
needed rest after such a shock to her mind. And it would also do him
good to grant himself a short rest. But he assured her he knew that he
could only rest when he had fulfilled his duty as a sovereign. His
father had said, a few minutes before he drew his last breath:
"If there is anything more to be done, give it me to do," and he, the
son, would do likewise.
"Moreover," he concluded, "it has done me good to bring to light that
which I had for so long kept sealed within me. To gaze in your face at
the same time was, perhaps, even better physic."
At this he rose and, seizing the startled girl by both hands, he cried:
"You, child, can satisfy the insatiable! The love which I offer you
resembles a full bunch of grapes, and yet I am quite content if you will
give me back but one berry."
At the very commencement, this declaration was drowned by a loud shout
which rang through the room in waves of sound.
Caracalla started, but, before he could reach the window, old Adventus
rushed in breathless; and he was followed, though in a more dignified
manner, with a not less hasty step and every sign of excitement, by
Macrinus, the prefect of the praetorians, with his handsome young son and
a few of Caesar's friends.
"This is how I rest!" exclaimed Caracalla, bitterly, as he released
Melissa's hand and turned inquiringly to the intruders.
The news had spread among the praetorians and the Macedonian legions,
that the emperor, who, contrary to his custom, had not shown himself for
two days, was seriously ill, and at the point of death. Feeling
extremely anxious about one who had showered gold on them, and given them
such a degree of freedom as no other imperator had ever allowed them,
they had collected before the Serapeum and demanded to see Caesar.
Caracalla's eyes lighted up at this information, and, excitedly pleased,
he cried:
"They only are really faithful!"
He asked for his sword and helmet, and sent for the 'paludamentum',
the general's cloak of purple, embroidered with gold, which he never
otherwise wore except on the field. The soldiers should see that he
intended leading in future battles.
While they waited, he conversed quietly with Macrinus and the others;
when, however, the costly garment covered his shoulders, and when his
favorite, Theocritus, who had known best how to support him during his
illness, offered him an arm, he answered imperiously that he required no
assistance.
"Nevertheless, you should, after so serious an attack--" the physician in
ordinary ventured to exhort him; but he interrupted him scornfully, and,
glancing toward Melissa, exclaimed:
"Those little hands there contain more healing power than yours and the
great Galenus's put together."
Thereupon he beckoned to the young girl, and when she once more besought
his permission to go, he left the room with the commanding cry, "You are
to wait!"
He had rather far to go and some steps to mount in order to reach the
balcony which ran round the base of the cupola of the Pantheon which his
father had joined to the Serapeum, yet he undertook this willingly, as
thence he could best be seen and heard.
A few hours earlier it would have been impossible for him to reach this
point, and Epagathos had arranged that a sedan-chair and strong bearers
should be waiting at the foot of the steps; but he refused it, for he
felt entirely restored, and the shouts of his warriors intoxicated him
like sparkling wine.
Meanwhile Melissa remained behind in the audience-chamber. She must obey
Caesar's command. Yet it frightened her; and, besides, she was woman
enough to feel it as an offense that the man who had assured her so
sincerely of his gratitude, and who even feigned to love her, should have
refused so harshly her desire to rest. She foresaw that, as long as he
remained in Alexandria, she would have to be his constant companion. She
trembled at the idea; yet, if she tried to fly from him, all she loved
would be lost. No, this must not be thought of! She must remain.
She threw herself on a divan, lost in thought, and as she realized the
confidence of which the unapproachable, proud emperor had thought her
worthy, a secret voice whispered to her that it was certainly a
delightful thing to share the overwhelming agitations of the highest
and greatest. And was he then really bad, he who felt the necessity of
vindicating himself before a simple girl, and to whom it appeared so
intolerable to be misjudged and condemned even by her? Besides being
the emperor and a suffering man, Caracalla had also become her wooer.
It never once entered her mind to accept him; but still it flattered
her extremely that the greatest of men should declare his love for her.
Why, then, need she fear him? She was so important to him, she could do
so much for him, that he would surely take care not to insult or offend
her. This modest child, who till quite lately had trembled before her
own father's temper, now, in the consciousness of Caesar's favor, felt
herself strong to triumph over the wrath and passions of the most
powerful and most terrible of men. In the mean time she dared not risk
confessing to him that she was another's bride, for that might determine
him to let Diodoros feel his power. The thought that the emperor could
care about her good opinion greatly pleased her; it even had the effect
of raising the hope in her inexperienced mind that Caracalla would
moderate his passion for her sake--when old Adventus came into the room.
He was in a hurry; for preparations had to be made in the dining-hall
for the reception of the ambassadors. But when at his appearance Melissa
rose from the divan he begged her good-naturedly to continue resting.
No one could tell what humor Caracalla might be in when he returned.
She had often seen how rapidly that chameleon could change color.
Who that had seen him just now, going to meet his soldiers, would believe
that he had a few hours before sent away, with hard words, the widow of
the Egyptian governor, who had come to beg mercy for her husband?
"So that wretch, Theocritus, has really carried out his intention of
ruining the honest Titianus?" asked Melissa, horrified.
"Not only of ruining him," answered the chamberlain; "Titianus is by this
time beheaded."
The old man bowed and left the room; but Melissa remained behind, feeling
as if the floor had opened in front of her. He, whose ardent assurance
she had just now believed, that he had been forced to shed the blood of
an impious wretch, in obedience to an overpowering fate, was capable of
allowing the noblest of men to be beheaded, unjudged, merely to please
a mercenary favorite! His confession, then, had been nothing but a
revolting piece of acting! He had endeavored to vanquish the disgust she
felt for him merely to ensnare her and her healing hand more surely--as
his plaything, his physic, his sleeping draught. And she had entered the
trap, and acquitted him of the most horrible blood-guiltiness.
He had that very day rejected, without pity, a noble Roman lady who
petitioned for her husband's life, and with the same breath he had
afterwards befooled her!
She started up, indignant and deeply wounded. Was it not ignominious
even to wait here like a prisoner in obedience to the command of this
wretch? And she had dared for one moment to compare this monster with
Diodoros, the handsomest, the best, and most amiable of youths!
It seemed to her inconceivable. If only he had not the power to destroy
all that was dearest to her heart, what pleasure it would have been to
shout in his face:
"I detest you, murderer, and I am the betrothed of another, who is as
good and beautiful as you are vile and odious!"
Then the question occurred to her whether it was only for the sake of her
healing hands that he had felt attracted to her, and had made her an
avowal as if she were his equal.
The blood mounted to her face at this thought, and with a burning brow
she walked to the open window.
A crowd of presentiments rushed into her innocent and, till then,
unsuspecting heart, and they were all so alarming that it was a relief to
her when a shout of joy from the panoplied breasts of several thousand
armed men rent the air. Mingling with this overpowering demonstration of
united rejoicing from such huge masses, came the blare of the trumpets
and horns of the assembled legions. What a maddening noise!
Before her lay the square, filled with many legions of warriors who
surrounded the Serapeum in their shining armor, with their eagles and
vexilla. The praetorians stood by the picked men of the Macedonian
phalanx, and with these were all the troops who had escorted the imperial
general hither, and the garrisons of the city of Alexander who hoped to
be called out in the next war.
On the balcony, decorated with statues which surrounded the colonnade of
the Pantheon on which the cupola rested, she saw Caracalla, and at a
respectful distance a superb escort of his friends, in red and white
togas, bordered with purple stripes, and wearing armor. Having taken off
his gold helmet, the imperial general bowed to his people, and at every
nod of his head, and each more vigorous movement, the enthusiastic cheers
were renewed more loudly than ever.
Macrinus then stepped up to Caesar's side, and the lictors who followed
him, by lowering their fasces, signaled to the warriors to keep silence.
Instantly the ear-splitting din changed to a speechless lull.
At first she still heard the lances and shields, which several of the
warriors had waved in enthusiastic joy, ringing against the ground, and
the clatter of the swords being put back in their sheaths; then this also
ceased, and finally, although only the superior officers had arrived on
horseback, the stamping of hoofs, the snorting of the horses, and the
rattle of the chains at their bits, were the only sounds.
Melissa listened breathlessly, looking first at the square and the
soldiers below, then at the balcony where the emperor stood. In spite
of the aversion she felt, her heart beat quicker. It was as if this
immeasurable army had only one voice; as if an irresistible force drew
all these thousands of eyes toward one point--the one little man up there
on the Pantheon.
Directly he began to speak, Melissa's glance was also fixed on Caracalla.
She only heard the closing sentence, as, with raised voice, he shouted to
the soldiers; and from it she gathered that he thanked his companions in
arms for their anxiety, but that he still felt strong enough to share all
their difficulties with them. Severe exertions lay behind them. The
rest in this luxurious city would do them all good. There was still much
to be conquered in the rich East, and to add to what they had already
won, before they could return to Rome to celebrate a well-earned triumph.
The weary should make themselves comfortable here. The wealthy merchants
in whose houses he had quartered them had been told to attend to their
wants, and if they neglected to do so every single warrior was man enough
to show them what a soldier needed for his comfort. The people here
looked askance at him and his soldiers, but too much moderation would be
misplaced.
There certainly were some things even here which the host was not bound
to supply to his military; he, Caesar, would provide them with these, and
for that purpose he had put aside two million denarii out of his own
poverty to distribute among them.
This speech had several times been interrupted by applause, but now such
a tremendous shout of joy went up that it would have drowned the loudest
thunder. The number of voices as well as their power seemed to have
doubled.
Caracalla had added another link to the golden chain which already bound
him to these faithful people; and, as he smiled and nodded to the
delighted crowd from the balcony, he looked like a happy, light-hearted
youth who had prepared a great treat for himself and several beloved
friends.
What he said further was lost in the confusion of voices in the square.
The ranks were broken up, and the cuirasses, helmets, and arms of the
moving warriors caught the sun and sent bright beams of light crossing
one another over the wide space surrounded with dazzling white marble
statues.
When Caracalla left the balcony, Melissa drew back from the window.
The compassionate impulse to lighten the lot of a sufferer, which had
before drawn her so strongly to Caracalla, had now lost its sense and
meaning for this healthy, high-spirited man. She considered herself
cheated, as if she had been fooled by sham suffering into giving
excessively large alms to an artful beggar.
Besides, she loved her native town, and Caracalla's advice to the
soldiers to force the citizens to provide luxurious living for them,
had made her considerably more rebellious. If he ever put her again
in a position to speak her mind freely to him, she would tell him all
undisguisedly; but instantly it again rushed into her mind that she must
keep guard over her tongue before the easily unchained wrath of this
despot, until her father and brothers were in safety once more.
Before the emperor returned, the room was filled with people, of whom she
knew none, excepting her old friend the white-haired, learned Samonicus.
She was the aim and center of all eyes, and when even the kindly old man
greeted her from a distance, and so contemptuously, that the blood rushed
to her face, she begged Adventus to take her into the next room.
The Chamberlain did as she wished, but before he left her he whispered to
her: "Innocence is trusting; but it is not of much avail here. Take
care, child! They say there are sand-banks in the Nile which, like soft
pillows, entice one to rest. But if you use them they become alive, and
a crocodile creeps out, with open jaws. I am talking already in
metaphor, like an Alexandrian, but you will understand me."
Melissa bowed acknowledgment to him, and the old man went on:
"He may perhaps forget you; for many things had accumulated during his
illness. If the mass of business, as it comes in, is not settled for
twenty four hours, it swells like a mill-stream that has the sluice down.
But when work is begun, it quite carries him away. He forgets then to
eat and drink. Ambassadors have arrived also from the Empress-mother,
from Armenia, and Parthia. If he does not ask for you in half an hour,
it will be suppertime, and I will let you out through that door."
"Do so at once," begged Melissa, with raised, petitioning hands; but the
old man replied: "I should then reward you but ill for having warmed my
feet for me. Remember the crocodile under the sand! Patience, child!
There is Caesar's zithern. If you can play, amuse yourself with that.
The door shuts closely and the curtains are thick. My old ears just now
were listening to no purpose."
But Caracalla was so far from forgetting Melissa that although he had
attended to the communication brought to him by the ambassadors, and
the various dispatches from the senate, he asked for her even at the door
of the tablinum. He had seen her from the balcony looking out on the
square; so she had witnessed the reception his soldiers had given him.
The magnificent spectacle must have impressed her and filled her with
joy. He was anxious to hear all this from her own lips, before he
settled down to work.
Adverntus whispered to him where he had taken her, to avoid the
persecuting glances of the numerous strangers, and Caracalla nodded
to him approvingly and went into the next room.
She sat there with the zithern, letting her fingers glide gently over the
strings.
On his entering, she drew back hastily; but he cried to her brightly:
"Do not disturb yourself. I love that instrument. I am having a statue
erected to Mesomedes, the great zithern-player--you perhaps know his
songs. This evening, when the feast and the press of work are over, I
will hear how you play. I will also playa few airs to you."
Melissa then plucked up courage and said, decidedly: "No, my lord; I am
about to bid you farewell for to-day."
"That sounds very determined," he answered, half surprised and half
amused. "But may I be allowed to know what has made you decide on this
step?"
"There is a great deal of work waiting for you," she replied, quietly.
"That is my affair, not yours," was the crushing answer.
"It is also mine," she said, endeavoring to keep calm; "for you have not
yet completely recovered, and, should you require my help again this
evening, I could not attend to your call."
"No?" he asked, wrathfully, and his eyelids began to twitch.
"No, my lord; for it would not be seemly in a maiden to visit you by
night, unless you were ill and needed nursing. As it is, I shall meet
your friends--my heart stands still only to think of it--"
"I will teach them what is due to you!" Caracalla bellowed out, and his
brow was knit once more.
"But you can not compel me," she replied, firmly, "to change my mind as
to what is seemly," and the courage which failed her if she met a spider,
but which stood by her in serious danger as a faithful ally, made her
perfectly steadfast as she eagerly added: "Not an hour since you promised
me that so long as I remained with you I should need no other protector,
and might count on your gratitude. But those were mere words, for, when
I besought you to grant me some repose, you scorned my very reasonable
request, and roughly ordered me to remain and attend on you."
At this Caesar laughed aloud.
"Just so! You are a woman, and like all the rest. You are sweet and
gentle only so long as you have your own way."
"No, indeed," cried Melissa, and her eyes filled with tears. "I only
look further than from one hour to the next. If I should sacrifice what
I think right, merely to come and go at my own will, I should soon be not
only miserable myself, but the object of your contempt."
Overcome by irresistible distress, she broke into loud sobs; but
Caracalla, with a furious stamp of his foot, exclaimed:
"No tears! I can not, I will not see you weep. Can any harm come to
you? Nothing but good; nothing but the best of happiness do I propose
for you. By Apollo and Zeus, that is the truth! Till now you have been
unlike other women, but when you behave like them, you shall--I swear it
--you shall feel which of us two is the stronger!"
He roughly snatched her hand away from her face and thereby achieved his
end, for her indignation at being thus touched by a man's brutal hand
gave Melissa strength to suppress her sobs. Only her wet cheeks showed
what a flood of tears she had shed, as, almost beside herself with anger,
she exclaimed:
"Let my hand go! Shame on the man who insults a defenseless girl! You
swear! Then I, too, may take an oath, and, by the head of my mother, you
shall never see me again excepting as a corpse, if you ever attempt
violence! You are Caesar--you are the stronger. Who ever doubted it?
But you will never compel me to a vile action, not if you could inflict a
thousand deaths on me instead of one!"
Caracalla, without a word, had released her hand and was staring at her
in amazement.
A woman, and so gentle a woman, defying him as no man would have dared to
do!