Chapter XXIV
Battling for Life
And then it was,--with the chariots bearing the guests almost drivingin at the gates of the palace,--that Cerrinius, Caesar's barber, camebefore his master with an alarming tale. The worthy man declared thathe had lighted on nothing less than a plot to murder the Romans, oneand all, by admitting Achillas's soldiery to the palace enclosure,while all the banqueters were helpless with drugged wine. Pratinas,who had been supposed to be at Pelusium, Cerrinius had caught inretired conference with Pothinus, planning the arrangement of thefeast. Achillas's mercenary army was advancing by stealthy marches toenter the city in the course of the evening. The mob had been arousedby agitators, until it was in a mood to rise en masse against theRomans, and join in destroying them. Such, in short, was the barber'sstory.
There was no time to delay. Caesar was a stranger in a strange andprobably hostile land, and to fail to take warning were suicide. Hesent for Pothinus, and demanded the whereabouts of Achillas's army.The regent stammered that it was at Pelusium. Caesar followed up thecharge by inquiring about Pratinas. Pothinus swore that he was atPelusium also. But Caesar cut his network of lies short, by commandingthat a malefactor should be forced to swallow a beaker of the wineprepared for the banquet. In a few moments the man was in a helplessstupor.
The case was proved and Caesar became all action. A squad oflegionaries haled Pothinus away to an execution not long delayed.Other legionaries disarmed and replaced the detachment of the royalguard that controlled the palace gates and walls. And barely had thesesteps been taken, when a courier thundered into the palace, hardlyescaped through the raging mob that was gaining control of the city.Achillas, he reported, had wantonly murdered Dioscorides and Serapion,whom Caesar had sent as envoys to Pelusium, and was marching on thecity with his whole army of Italian renegades, Syrian banditti,convicts, and runaway slaves, twenty thousand strong.
There was nothing to do but to prepare to weather the storm in thepalace enclosure, which, with its high walls, was practically afortress in itself. There were only four thousand Romans, and yetthere was a long circuit of defences to man. But Drusus never saw hisgeneral putting forth greater energy. That night, instead of feasting,the soldiers laboured, piling up the ramparts by the light of torches.The city was surging and thundering without the palace gates. Caesarhad placed the king under guard, but Arsinoe--his younger sister--hadslipped out of the palace to join herself to the advancing host ofAchillas, and speedily that general would be at hand. Caesar as usualwas everywhere, with new schemes for the defences, new enthusiasm forhis officers, new inspiration for his men. No one slept nor cared tosleep inside the palace walls. They toiled for dear life, for withmorning, at most, Achillas would be upon them; and by morning, ifPothinus's plans had not failed, they would have been drugged andhelpless to a man, none able to draw sword from scabbard. It was a newexperience to one and all, for these Romans to stand on the defensive.For once Caesar had made a false step--he ought to have taken on hisvoyage more men. He stood with his handful, with the sea on one sideof him and a great city and a nation in arms against him on the other.The struggle was not to be for empire, but for life. But the Romanswere too busy that night to realize anything save the need of untiringexertion. If they had counted the odds against them, four thousandagainst a nation, they might well have despaired, though theirchieftain were Caesar.
Two years earlier Drusus, as he hurried to and fro transmitting ordersfor his general, might have been fain to draw aside and muse on thestrangeness of the night scene. The sky was clear, as almost always ina land where a thunder-storm is often as rare as an eclipse; the starstwinkled out of heavens of soft blackness; the crescent of a new moonhung like a silvered bow out over the harbour, and made a thin pathwayof lustre across the moving, shimmering waters. Dimly the sky-line wasvisible; by the Pharos and its mole loomed the vague tracery of masts.On the west and the south lay the white and dark masses of the city,now and then brought into clearer relief as the moonbeams swept acrosssome stately pile, and touched on its Corinthian columns and noblywrought pediments. But Drusus was a soldier; and the best of poetsdoubtless work poorly when their lives are hanging in the balance.Over the flower-strewn walks, under the festooned colonnades, ran thebusy legionaries, bestirring themselves as never before; whileDiomedes, and Hector, and Patroclus, and fifty other heroic worthieswaged perpetual battle on their marble heights above the soldiers'heads. On occasion Drusus was called to one of the upper terraces andpinnacles of the palace buildings, and then he could catch a glimpseof the whole sweep of the mighty city. Over to the southeast, wherewas the Jewish quarter, the sky was beginning to redden. The mob hadbegun to vent its passions on the innocent Israelites, and theincendiary was at his work. A deep, low, growling hum, as of tenthousand angry voices, drifted upon the night air. The beast calledthe Alexandrian rabble was loose, and it was a terrible animal.
It was midnight. Drusus had toiled since noon. He had hardly tastedfood or drink since morning, but there were three feet more of brick,stone, and rubbish to be added still to this and that rampart beforeit would be secure, and a whole wing of the overgrown palace must bepulled down to furnish the material. He had climbed out upon the roofto aid in tearing up the tiles and to encourage the men by hisexample, when some one plucked him from behind on the cloak--it wasCaesar.
"You are not needed here," said the general, in a voice that seemed abit strained to keep calm. "Read this--take all the men you want."
And the Imperator himself held up the torch, while Drusus took thetablet thrust into his hands and read the hastily scribbled lines:--
"Cleomenes to Drusus. The ladies are in danger. I will resist the mobas long as I can. Send help."
Drusus threw down the tablet; forgot to so much as salute hiscommander. He had laid off his armour during the work on the ramparts;he ran for it, put it on with feverish haste. A moment more and he wasrunning among the soldiers, calling this and that legionary by name.The troops all knew him, and would have followed him to the death.When he asked for thirty volunteers for dangerous service, nonedemanded of him the occasion; he simply selected his men as fast as hemight. He secured four chariots and placed in them the fastest horsesin the royal stables and trusted men for drivers. He mounted the restof his thirty on other steeds, and the preparations were over. Thegate was thrown open; Decimus Mamercus, who was his subaltern, led outthe little company. Drusus rode out last, in one of the chariots. Thetroops on the walls cheered them as they departed.
In the immediate neighbourhood of the palace there prevailed anominous silence. Earlier in the night a few cohorts had charged outand scattered the street rabble; and the mob had kept at a distance.There was no light save that of the moon and the distant glow of theburning buildings. Drusus felt his breath coming thick and fast, thedrops of sweat were hanging on his forehead, something within wasdriving his heart into his throat. "If--" he never went further;unless he brought Cornelia and Fabia back to the palace unscathed, heknew the Alexandrian rabble would howl over his unconscious body.
"Ride!" he commanded, as if the rush of the chariots and horses woulddrown the fears that nearly drove him frantic. "Ride!"
The drivers lashed the teams, the horsemen pricked with the spur.Drusus caught the reins from his chariot companion, and swung the lashhimself over the four steeds. Faster and faster they flew down thesplendidly paved and built highways. Temples and majestic publicbuildings rose in sombre grandeur above their heads; above them winged"Victories" seemed springing up into dark void, their sculpturedsymmetries just visible in the moonlight. On and on, swift and moreswift--persons began shouting from the buildings which they passed,now a few voices, now many, now a hundred. A volley of stones wasdashed down from the safe recesses of the pillars at the head of thelong flight of steps leading up to a temple. Presently an arrowwhirred over Drusus's head and smote on the masonry across the street.There were lights ahead--scores of torches waving--a small buildingwas on fire; the glare grew redder and brighte
r every instant; and adin, a din lifted by ten thousand men when their brute instincts areenkindled, grew and grew. Drusus dashed the cold sweat from his brow,his hand was trembling. He had a quiver and bow in the chariot,--apowerful Parthian bow, and the arrows were abundant. Mamercus hadtaught him to be a good archer, as a boy. Could he turn his old skillto account? Not unless his hand became more steady.
Women screamed out at him and his band from the house roofs; a tilestruck one of the chariot horses and made it plunge wildly; Drususflung his strength into the reins, and curbed in the raging beast; hetossed the lines back to his driver and tore the bow from its casings.His car had rushed on ahead of Decimus Mamercus and the rest; twofurlongs more would bring him to the house of Cleomenes on one of thesquares of the city. The chariot swung around a street corner for thefinal stretch, the way was broad, the buildings on either side (theresidences of the Alexandrian gentry) high; but the whole street fromwall to wall was a seething mass of human forms. The fire wasspreading; the brightening flames shone down on the tossing, howlingmultitude--excited Egyptians from the quarter of Rhacotis, frenziedAsiatics in their turbans, mad sailors from the Eunostian port and thePharos island. At the head of the street the flames were pressing inupon a stately mansion around which the raging mob was packed thickly.On the roof of the threatened house figures could be seen in the luridlight, running to and fro, flinging down bricks and stones, and tryingto beat back the fire. It was the house of Cleomenes. Insensibly theveteran who had been driving reined in the horses, who themselves drewback, loath to plunge into the living barriers ahead. But Drusus waspast fear or prudence; with his own hands he sent the lash stingingover all the four, and the team, that had won more than a singletrophy in the games, shot forward. The chariot struck the multitudeand went, not through it, but over it. The on-rush was too rapid, toounexpected, for resistance. To right and left, as the water gives waybefore the bows of an on-rushing ship, the crowd surged back, theinstinct of panic reigning in every breast. Thick and fast, as quicklyas he might set shaft to string, flew Drusus's arrows--not a shaftthat failed a mark, as it cut into the living masses. The chariotreeled again and again, as this wheel or that passed over somethinganimate and struggling. The horses caught the fire of conflict; theyraced, they ran--and the others sped after them. The mob left offhowling: it screamed with a single voice of mortal dread. And beforeDrusus or any one else realized, the deed was done, the long lane wascleared, and the drivers were drawing rein before the house ofCleomenes.
The heavily barred carriage-way was thrown open, the valiant merchantand his faithful employees and slaves greeted their rescuers as thelittle cavalcade drove in. There was not a moment to lose. Cleomenesand his household might indeed have long made good the house againstthe mere attacks of the mob; but the rioters had set the torch to someadjacent buildings, and all efforts to beat back the flames wereproving futile. There was no time to condole with the merchant overthe loss of his house. The mob had surged again into the streets andwas pressing back, this time more or less prepared to resist theRomans. The colonnades and the house roofs were swarming, the din wasindescribable, and the crackling and roar of the advancing flames grewever louder.
The only alternative was a return to the palace. Cleomenes's employeesand slaves were to scatter into the crowd, where they would easilyescape notice; he himself, with his daughters, Artemisia, and theRoman ladies, must go in the chariots to the palace. Cornelia camedown from her chamber, her face more flushed with excitement thanalarm. Troubles enough she had had, but never before personal danger;and she could not easily grasp the peril.
"Are you afraid, carissima," said Drusus, lifting her into hischariot, "to ride back with me to the palace, through that wolf pack?"
"With you?" she said, admiring the ease with which he sprang about infull armour; "I would laugh at Medusa or the Hydra of Lerna with youbeside me."
Cleomenes had been again upon the housetop to watch the progress ofthe fire. He came down, and Drusus instantly saw that there was dismaywritten on his face. The merchant, who was himself armed with swordand target, drew the officer aside and whispered:--
"Pray, Roman, to all your native gods! I can see a _lochos_[184] ofregular troops filing into the square before the house. Achillas isentering the city with his men. We shall have to fight our way throughhis thousands."
[184] A company of about one hundred men.
Drusus uttered a deep and silent curse on himself for the mad bravadothat led him to leave the palace with but thirty men; why had he notwaited to assemble more? He could ride over the mob; to masterAchillas's disciplined forces was otherwise.
A freedman came running down from the roof, crying out that it wasalready on fire. It was a time for action, not thought, yet even atthe moment Drusus's schoolboy Polybius was running through hismind--the description of the great riot when Agathocles, the wickedregent of Ptolemaeus Philopator, and his sister Agathocleia, and hismother Oenanthe, had been seized by the multitude and torn in pieces,bit by bit, while yet they lived. Cornelia seemed to have caught somenew cause for fear; she was trembling and shivering when Drusus tookher in his arms and swung her into the chariot. He lifted in Fabialikewise, but the Vestal only bowed her head in calm silence. She hadoverheard Cleomenes's tidings, but, by stress of all the force of herstrong nature, remained composed. Decimus Mamercus took Artemisia,frightened and crying, into his own chariot. Monime, Berenice, andtheir father were to go in the other cars. The fire was gaining on theroof, smoke was pouring down into the court-yard, and now and then agleam came from a firebrand. The horses were growing restive andfrightened.
"Throw open the gate!" commanded Drusus; his anxieties and despairwere driving him almost to frenzy, but the gods, if gods there were,knew that it was not for himself that he was fearful. His voicesounded hollow in his throat; he would have given a talent of gold fora draught of water. One of his men flung back the gateway, and in atthe entrance came the glare of great bonfires lighted in the streets,of hundreds of tossing torches. The yelling of the multitude waslouder than ever. There it was, packed thick on all sides: in itsmidst Drusus could see bright lines of tossing steel--the armour ofAchillas's soldiery! As the portal opened, a mighty howl of triumphburst from the people; the fire had driven forth to the mob its prey.Cornelia heard the howl--the voice of a wild and raging beast--andtrembled more.
"Cornelia," said Drusus, lowering his head so as to make himselfheard, "do not look above the framework of the chariot. Cling to ittightly, for we may have to pass over obstacles. Above all, do notspring out, however much we may be swayed and shaken."
"I will not, Quintus," and that was all she could be heard to say inthe din.
And so the little cavalcade drove forth. Cornelia cowered in thechariot and saw nothing and heard everything, which was the same asnothing. Was she frightened? She did not know. The peril was awful. Ofcourse she realized that; but how could calamity come to pass, when itwas Drusus whose powerful form towered above her, when it was Drususwhose voice rang like a trumpet out into the press swaying around?
It was very dark crouching in the body of the chariot. She could justsee the face of Fabia opposite, very white, but, she knew, very calm.She reached out and caught the Vestal's hand, and discovered that herown was trembling, while the other's was perfectly steady. But thecontest, the fighting all about! Now the horses were dashing forward,making the chariot spring as though it were a thing of life; nowreined in sharply, and the heavily loaded car swayed this way andthat, almost to overturning. The uproar above her head passed thetelling by words; but there was one shout, now in Greek, now inEgyptian, that drowned all others: "Death to the Romans! tear them inpieces!" Missiles smote against the chariot; an arrow went cuttinginto the wood, driving its keen point home, and Cornelia experienced athrill of pain in her shoulder. She felt for the smart, found the meretip of the point only had penetrated the wood; but her fingers werewet when she took them away. Drusus was shooting; his bow-stringsnapped and snapped. Once a soldier in arm
our sprang behind thechariot when it came to a stop, and his javelin was poised todischarge; but an arrow tore through his throat, and he went down tothe pavement with a crash. The car rocked more and more; once thewheels slipped without revolving, as though sliding over some smoothliquid--not water. Cornelia felt powers of discriminating sensationbecoming fainter and fainter; a great force seemed pressing out fromwithin her; the clamour and shocks were maddening. She felt driven toraise her head, to look out into the raging chaos, though the firstglance were death. Peering back out of the body of the chariot now andthen, she saw a little. The Romans were charging this way and that,forcing their passage down the street, barred no longer by a mere mob,but by Achillas's infantrymen, who were hastening into action. Thechariot horses were wounded, some seriously; she was sure of that.They could not be driven through the spearmen, and the little handfulof cavalry was trying to break through the enemy and make space for arush. It was thirty against thousands; yet even in the mortal peril,which Cornelia realized now if she had never before, she had a strangesort of pride. Her countrymen were showing these Orientals how oneRoman could slay his tens, could put in terror his hundreds. Drususwas giving orders with the same mechanical exactitude of the drill,albeit his voice was high-pitched and strained--not entirely, perhaps,because of the need of calling above the din.
"Form in line by fours!"
Cornelia raised her head above the chariot frame. The Romans hadworked their way down into a square formed by the intersection ofstreets. Behind them and on every building were swarming the people;right across the eastern avenue, where their escape lay, stood thebristling files of one of Achillas's companies. Stones and roof-tileswere being tossed in a perfect hail from the houses, and now and thenan arrow or a dart. The four chariots--one had only three horsesleft--were standing in the little plaza, and the troopers were formingbefore them. The arrows of the chariot warriors made the mob behindkeep a respectful distance. It was the triumph of discipline overman's animal sense of fear. Even the mob felt this, when it saw thelittle squadron fall into line with as much precision as on the paradeground. A tile smote one soldier upon the head, and he tumbled fromhis horse like a stone. His comrades never paused in their evolution.Then, for the first time, Cornelia screamed with horror and fright.Drusus, who was setting a new arrow to his bow, looked down upon her;he had never seemed so handsome before, with the fierce light of thebattle in his eyes, with his whole form swelling with the exertions ofconflict.
"Down, Cornelia!" commanded the officer; and Cornelia did soimplicitly--to disobey him at that moment was inconceivable.
"At them, men!"
And then came a new bound from the horses, and then a mighty crash andclash of bodies, blades, and shields, the snort of dying beasts, thesplintering of spear-shafts, the groans and cries of men in battle fortheir lives. The car rose on one wheel higher and higher; Cornelia wasthrown against Fabia, and the two women clung to each other, tooterrified and crushed to scream; then on a sudden it righted, and asit did so the soldier who had acted as charioteer reeled, his facebathed in blood, the death-rattle in his throat. Back he fell, piercedin face and breast, and tumbled from the car; and, as if answering tothis lightening of their burden, the hoofs of the hard-pressed horsesbit on the pavement, and the team bounded onward.
"_Io triumphe!_" It was Drusus who called; and in answer to his shoutcame the deep Caesarian battle-cry from hundreds of throats, "_VenusVictrix!_"
The chariot was advancing, but less rapidly. Cornelia rose and lookedforth again, not this time to be rebuked. Down the moon-lighted streetwere moving several infantry cohorts from the palace; the avenue wasclear, the mob and hostile soldiery had melted away like a mist; amounted officer came flying down the street ahead of the legionaries.
"The ladies are safe, Imperator!" Drusus was reporting with militaryexactitude. "I have lost twelve men."
Caesar galloped along beside the chariot. He had his horse underabsolute control, and he extended his hand, first to Fabia, then toCornelia.
"Fortune has been kind to us," said he, smiling.
"Vesta has protected us," said Fabia, bowing her head.
Caesar cast a single inquiring, keen glance at the Vestal.
"Your excellency doubts the omnipotence of the goddess," continuedshe, looking him steadily in the face.
"That a power has protected you," was his answer, "I am the last todeny."
But the Imperator and Drusus were exchanging glances; that a woman ofthe intelligence of Fabia could believe in the regular, personalintervention of the Deity in human affairs was to them, not anabsurdity, but a mystery unfathomable.
And so, safe-guarded by the troops, they rode back to the palace,where the preparations for defence were ready, and all were awaitingthe onset of Achillas. The weary men on the walls cheered as thecarriages with their precious burdens rolled in at the gate; andcheered again for Drusus and his eighteen who had taught theAlexandrian rabble how Roman steel could bite. But Drusus himself wassad when he thought of the twelve good men that he had leftbehind--who need not have been sacrificed but for his headlongrashness.
And how had the mob come to attack the house of Cleomenes? It was along story, but in a few words probably this. Pratinas had come anddemanded of Cleomenes that he surrender the ladies (doubtless becausethey would be useful hostages) to go with him to Achillas. Cleomeneshad refused, the more especially as Cornelia adjured him not todeliver them over to the clutches of such a creature; and Pratinaswent away full of anger and threatenings. How he came to be inAlexandria, and had returned so soon from Achillas's forces, if he hadindeed gone to Achillas, was neither clear nor important. But that hehad excited the mob to assail Cleomenes's mansion needed no greatproof. Cleomenes himself had seen his artful fellow-countrymansurveying the riot from a housetop, though doubtless he had kept at aprudent distance during the fighting.
So ended that exciting day, or rather that night. It was Cleopatra whowith her own hands laid the bandages on Cornelia's wounded shoulder,but the hurt was not serious; only, as Drusus laughingly assured her,it was an honourable scar, as became the descendant of so manyfighting Claudii and Cornelii.
"Ah! delectissime," replied she, "it isn't the hurt that gives mepain; it is that I was frightened--frightened when you were actinglike one of the Heroes!"
"_Mehercle!_" laughed Drusus, before he left her to snatch a few hoursof well-earned rest and see to the dressing of his own bruises, "Iwould not blame a veteran for being panic-struck in that melee, if hedidn't have a chance to swing a weapon and so keep his heart fromstanding still."
II
On the next day Achillas moved up his thousands and attacked thepalace fortifications. There was a desperate struggle in the streetsoutside the royal residence; the assailants were five to thedefenders' one, and the mob was arming to aid in the assault; but theEgyptians soon realized that it was no light thing to carry barricadesheld by men who had fought in Gaul, Britain, Germany, Spain, Italy,and Greece, and never tasted overthrow. Fiercest of all was the fightat the harbour, where the navy of the king lay, and which, if seized,would have put Caesar at his enemies' mercy. But here, also, Romanvalour prevailed over Oriental temerity. All the ships that Caesarcould not use were burned. With the rest he sailed over to the Pharosisland, and landed men to make good the tower on that point ofvantage. So ended the first round of battle; and the initial danger ofbeing overwhelmed by sheer force was over.
But day after day of conflict followed. Princess Arsinoe and Achillasquarrelled in the camp of the besiegers, and this occasioned somerespite to the Romans. Still there was no end to the fighting. Caesarsent off to Asia Minor, Syria, and Crete for reenforcements; butthese, all knew, could not come at once. A sharp struggle cleared thehouses nearest to the palace, and the general caused them to be razedand the positions thoroughly fortified. He seized the low-lying groundwhich ran as an insignificant valley down between the halves of thecity and tried to cut his enemies' position in twain. So the struggledragged on. Achilla
s had been murdered by Arsinoe, and she had placedin command her governor, the eunuch Ganymed, who was more dangerous byhis sly craft than fifty common generals. One day a frightenedcenturion reported to Caesar that all the cisterns used by the troopswere becoming flooded with sea-water. It was a contrivance of Ganymed.The soldiers were in a panic, and it was all that their leader coulddo to pacify them. And then one of those strokes of fortune which willalways come to a favoured few was vouchsafed; as the terrified Romansdelved in the earth where rain had seldom fallen, lo! on the veryfirst night of their toil fresh water bubbled up, and all the dangerwas at an end.
But it is needless to tell how the contest was waged; how thethirty-seventh legion arrived as help, how the wind kept them off portexposed to the enemy, and how Caesar sailed out and succoured them, andworsted the Alexandrian ships. Then, again, Ganymed stirred thedisheartened citizens to build another fleet, and, by tremendousexertions, a new flotilla arose to threaten to cut Caesar off; andthere was a second battle for dear life--this time on sea close by thecity; while Roman and Alexandrian stood staring on the housetops, withtheir hearts beating quickly, for defeat meant ruin to the Romans.And, again, the gods of the waters fought for Caesar, and the beatenAlexandrian fleet drifted back to the shelter of its mole in theharbour of Eunostus.
Next came a great struggle for the possession of the Pharos. Thefighting was severe, the footing on the island hard to win, up steepcrags and rocks swept by volleys of missiles; but Italian courageseemed inexhaustible. The legionaries, without ladders or fascines,stormed towers and battlements. The town on the island was taken andthe fort by it; then came the contest along the mole, driving theAlexandrians to the fort at the lower end. On the next day the secondfort, too, was taken. There was a bridge at the lower end of the mole,and the Alexandrians had tried to sail under to attack the Caesariansin the western harbour. The legionaries toiled to fill up the passage.All seemed going well, but of a sudden befell calamity.
* * * * *
Panic will seize the most hardened veterans, and so it was that day. Aflank attack from the Alexandrian ships, and of other foes by land, asudden giving way on the part of some sailors who were defending theworking party, and then terror spread among the three veteran cohortsat the lower fort. Caesar had been among his men directing the work,with him had gone Drusus, as aide-de-camp, and Agias, who had longbeen chafing under the restraints of the beleaguered palace andimagined the position safe and unassailable. The panic came morequickly than words may tell: a few hostile shouts from behind, criesof fear and alarm, a volley of darts, and the men who had hunted theMagnus to his death fled like raw recruits at their first arrow.
The Caesarian ships beside the mole began to thrust back, lest theenemy seize them. The terrified legionaries rushed from their ranks,cast away shield and cuirass, sword and dart. Every man cared but tosave himself, the spirit of mere fear uppermost. Caesar and Drususrushed into the press, and commanded and exhorted; they might havebetter striven to turn the flight of a herd of frightened cattle;their words fell on deaf ears; the panic-struck soldiers swept themaside in a mad dash to get on board the receding shipping. The dangerwas terrible. On either side the enemy were rushing down the mole, andover the defences just forsaken by the Romans. Caesar had been caughtin the swirl of his men and carried along despite his resistance. Hefell, and Drusus, who struggled to be near him, ran to his side.
"We must escape, Imperator!" cried he, in his commander's ear. He sawthat there was blood on the general's face, and for an instant thatthought overpowered all others.
"Save yourselves," gasped Caesar, striving to struggle to his feet."You cannot aid me."
A burly Egyptian soldier was running toward them, far ahead of theother enemies, flourishing a battle-axe. Did he realize the prize thatlay almost in his power? Drusus had not been fighting, but his swordwas now out. One blow of the terrible weapon of the legionary sent theoncomer sprawling in his own gore. A trifling respite had been gained.Caesar steadied himself and looked about him. They were alone withAgias facing the foe; the legionaries were struggling one over anotherat the edge of the causeway, battling for dear life to force their wayinto the only galley that had not thrust off.
"Come," said Caesar, turning; and the three joined in the flight. Tolinger were madness.
It was only a trifling distance across the mole, but a frightfultragedy was enacted before their eyes as they ran. The galley by themole was none too large; as the frightened men piled into her, theshifting and increasing weight threw her on an uneven keel; and thencame the horror. A cry of mortal agony burst from hundreds of throatsas the ship capsized. Drusus, as he ran, saw, but for a twinkling, herdeck black with writhing men, then her curving sides and keel, ere allvanished behind the embankment of the mole. The three fugitives ran tothe edge of the causeway: below them, the water full of men battlingfor life; behind, the foe, now fully aware of their advantage andpressing on with exultant shouts. Never had the Imperator been ingreater peril. Drusus glanced at his chief and saw that he was verypale, evidently hurt in the scuffle. There was not a ship within hail,not a ship within two arrow-flights; and all seemed pulling back as ifto escape from the danger.
"Leap, swim!" cried Caesar, casting off his breastplate.[185]
[185] _Lorica_.
"There is no ship within reach, Imperator," replied the young man,gravely.
"You are young and strong," was his answer, "and will come away safe."Caesar was preparing to spring over the edge.
"And you?" cried Drusus, catching him by the wrist. He knew that Caesarcould never swim the distance to the nearest ship.
"In the hands of the Fates."
But Agias, whose eyes had been straining out into the western harbour,cried, "Help! A galley is coming!"
"Imperator," said Drusus, "you must wait for this galley."
The foe were almost on them.
"Are you mad?" was the exclamation of the general.
"I can hold them off until it is safe to swim," and Drusus had coveredhimself behind a coping in the masonry.
Caesar measured the distance with his eye.
"We play at dice with Fortuna, whatever we do," was his comment."Come, then." And the three steadied themselves on the narrow footingbehind the parapet, one thrust being enough to send them headlong.Fortunately weapons were ready--thrown away by the luckless fugitives.When the Alexandrians rushed up, three pila crashed in upon them, and,caught unawares by the little volley, they held back an instant. Thethree desperate men were counting their hearts' beats, while thedistance from the friendly galley lessened. Then the rush came, but itwas met, and, narrow as was the ledge, the attempt to carry it failed.The victors were stripping the dead, and, thus engaged, few joined inthe attack. Caesar had laid down his paludamentum, and the attackersthought they had to deal simply with three ordinary Romans, who meantto sell their lives dearly. Another rush; the Imperator was forcedhard, so that another push would have sent him plunging into the sea;but his companions sent the attackers reeling back, and there was morebreathing time. The Alexandrians had received a taste of these Romanblades, and they did not enjoy it. Stripping the dead and picking uplost arms was more profitable than bearding the three lions. Thegalley was drawing nearer. Drusus began to think of something elsebesides thrusting at men before him.
"They will give us time to escape, Imperator."
"I think so;" but as Caesar spoke all three started in dismay. Therewas a new face among the little band immediately opposed tothem--Pratinas.
The Greek had never looked so handsome as in armour. His beautifullypolished mail sat on him with perfect grace; he was a model for anartist's Ares, the beautiful genius of battle. _He_, at least, knewwhose were those three stern, set faces defiantly peering over the lowparapet that ran waist-high along the edge of the mole.
"At them!" cried the Hellene. "A thousand drachmas to the man whobrings the middle Roman down!"
The "middle Roman" was Caesar. The enemy came
on again, this time somespringing over the parapet to run along the narrow outer platform andattack from either side. But the galley was still nearer.
"Throw off your armour and leap!" It was Drusus who commanded now, andCaesar who obeyed. The Imperator tore off his greaves and helmet,caught his general's cloak in his teeth, that it might not fall as atrophy to the foe, and sprang down into the waves; it was all done ina twinkling. But, quick as the leap had been, it was but just in time.A rush of irresistible numbers carried Drusus off of his feet, and hefell also--but fell in all his armour. It was an instant too crowdedfor sensations. He just realized that his helmet tumbled from his headas he fell backward. The weight of his greaves righted him while hewas in the air. He struck the water with his feet. There was achilling shock; and then, as he went down, the shield on his left armcaught the water in its hollow and bore him upward. Nature reasserteditself; by a mighty tug at the straps he wrenched away hisbreastplate, and could make shift to float. The short harbour waveslifted him, and he saw Caesar striking out boldly toward the nowrapidly approaching galley. Even as the general swam, Drusus observedthat he held up a package of papyri in his left hand to keep it out ofthe wet; in uttermost perils Caesar could not forget his books. Butwhile the young man gazed seaward, shook the water from his eyes, andstruck out to reach the friendly galley, groans and shouts arose fromthe waters near beside him. A voice--Agias's voice--was calling outfor help. The sound of his freedman's cries drove the Roman to action.Twice the waves lifted him, and he saw nothing; but at the third timehe lit on two forms clinging to a bit of wreckage, and yet strugglingtogether. A few powerful strokes sent him beside them, and, to hisunutterable astonishment, he beheld in the person who was battlingwith Agias for possession of the float none other than Pratinas. Thereare times when nothing has opportunity to appear wonderful. Thismoment was one of these. Actions, not words, were wanted. The elderGreek had made shift to draw a dagger, and was making a vicious effortto stab the other, who had gripped him round the neck with a tenacitythat would end only with life. One stroke of Drusus's fist as hesurged alongside the wreckage sent the dagger flying; and in atwinkling he had borne Pratinas down and had him pinioned fast on theplanking of the rude raft. There was a great shout rising from theenemy on the mole. A few darts spat in the water beside the fugitives;but at the sight of the approaching galley the Alexandrians gave way,for on her decks were swarming archers and slingers, and her powerfulballistae were already working havoc. The pulsations of her banks ofoars grew slower as she swept up to the fugitives, the great column ofwhite spray curling around her prow sank, and while she drifted pastthem a boat shot forth. In a minute Drusus was standing on her deck,and the sailors were passing up Pratinas, still feebly resisting, andAgias, who was weak and helpless with his wounds. On the poop Caesarwas conversing with a seaman of magnificent presence, who was in theact of assuring the Imperator that his vessel and crew were at thegeneral's service.
III
The boats of the rescuer were pulling about, taking up such few Romansas had been able to keep afloat; but Drusus was too exhausted to givethem further heed. He realized that the vessel he was aboard was nomember of the Roman squadron, that its crew were neither Caesarians norAlexandrians. Deft hands aided him off with his water-soaked clothing,and placed bandages on his bruises and cuts. A beaker of spiced wine,the like of which he had never drunk before, sent a thrill ofreinvigorated life through his veins. When he came back upon the deckhe found Caesar--pale, yet, as ever, active and untiring--stillconversing with the captain of the vessel. The Imperator had a bandagedrawn across his forehead, but otherwise he seemed none the worse forhis recent danger. The galley, under a swinging oar, was pulling backacross the "Great Harbour" to the palace quay. The battle was over;four hundred good Roman lives had been lost, but the disaster had notentailed any serious compromise of Caesar's position. There was no needof continuing at the Pharos, and it was well to assure the anxiousgarrison at the palace-fortress that their general was safe and sound.
Drusus, as the one thing natural under the circumstances, went to thecaptain of his rescuers to express his obligation and gratitude.
"This is Quintus Livius Drusus," said Caesar, good-naturedly, alreadyat his ease, to the strange commander, "who serves on my staff. Insaving him I owe you a debt, O Demetrius, in addition to my ownrescue."
The stranger caught Drusus by both hands.
"Are you indeed the son of Sextus Drusus of Praeneste?" he questionedwith eagerness.
"Assuredly, my good sir," replied the young Roman, a bit confused atthe other's impetuosity.
"And did your father never tell you of a certain Demetrius, a Greek,who was his friend?"
"He did; this Demetrius was cast into prison and condemned byPompeius; my father secured his escape;" and Drusus hesitated. Hismind had worked rapidly, and he could jump at a conclusion.
"Say it out, your excellency," pressed the seaman.
"He became a pirate, though my father did not blame him overmuch."
"_Eu!_" interrupted Caesar, as if to prevent a moment of awkwardness."Before King Minos's days nothing was more honourable. I have knownsome excellent men who were pirates."
But Demetrius had, in true Eastern fashion, fallen on his knees andkissed the feet of Drusus.
"The son of my preserver! I have saved him! Praises to Mithras!"
After this, there was no longer any constraint on the part of rescuersor rescued. And that evening, when all were safe behind the palacewalls, Caesar called the pirate chief into the hall where he had beenbanqueting with Cleopatra, Fabia, and Cornelia, and his favouriteofficers, and asked for an account of his life. A strange enough storyit was Demetrius had to tell, though Cornelia had heard it before; oftwo voyages to wealthy Taprobane,[186] one as far as the GoldenChersonesos,[187] almost to the Silk Land, Serica, of voyages outbeyond the Pillars of Hercules into the Sea of Darkness,--everywherethat keel of ship had ploughed within the memory of man.
[186] Ceylon.
[187] Malay Peninsula.
"And the men that drove you to freebooting?" asked Caesar, when thecompany had ceased applauding this recital, which the sailor set forthwith a spontaneous elegance that made it charming.
"I have said that they were Lucius Domitius, whom the gods haverewarded, and a certain Greek."
"The Greek's name was--"
"Kyrios," said Demetrius, his fine features contracting with pain anddisgust, "I do not willingly mention his name. He has done me so greata wrong, that I only breathe his name with a curse. Must you know whoit was that took my child, my Daphne,--though proof I have not againsthim, but only the warnings of an angry heart?"
"But he was--" pressed Caesar.
"Menon." And as he spoke he hissed the words between his teeth. "He isone knave among ten thousand. Why burden your excellency withremembering him?"
So the conversation went on, and Caesar told how he had been takenprisoner, when a young man, by pirates near Rhodes, and how he hadbeen kept captive by them on a little isle while his ransom wascoming.
"Ah!" interrupted Demetrius, "I have heard the whole tale from one ofmy men who was there. You, kyrios, behaved like a prince. You badeyour captors take fifty talents instead of twenty, as they asked, andwrote verses and declaimed to your guards all the time you wereawaiting the money, and joined in all their sports; howbeit, you kepttelling them that you would crucify them all for the matter."
"_Hem!_" laughed Caesar. "Didn't I make good the threat?"
"You did with all save this man, who got away," was his unflinchinganswer. "Although in mercy you strangled all your captors before youhad them put on the crosses."
"_Hei!_" quoth the Imperator. "I should have spared them to give mecriticism of those verses now."
"Kyrios," rejoined Demetrius, "the man who survived assures me thatthe verses at least were wretched, though your excellency was a verygood wrestler."
"_Euge!_ Bravo!" cried Caesar, and all the company joined in. "I musttake a few of your
men back to Rome, for we need critics for our roughLatin versifiers."
Drusus, as soon as the laugh passed away, arose, and addressed hischief:--
"Imperator," he said, "Agias this morning dragged from off the molewith him into the water one of the most dangerous men in the councilsof our enemies. I mean, as you know, Pratinas the Greek. He is now inthe palace prison, but every one is aware that, so long as he so muchas lives, we are hardly safe. What shall be done?"
Caesar frowned.
"This is hardly a basilica for a trial," he replied, "but '_inter armasilent leges_.' Tell the centurions on guard to bring him here. Iimagine we must grant him the form of an examination."
Drusus went out to give the necessary orders.
"You did not see Agias's prisoner?" asked Cornelia of Demetrius, whowas now an old friend.
"I did not," answered the pirate prince, pouring down the contents ofa prodigious beaker at a single draught. "A very desperate man, Iimagine. But it is hard for me to blame any one so long as he fightsopenly. Still," he added, with a laugh, "I mustn't express suchsentiments, now that his excellency has given me this." And he tossedover to Cornelia a little roll, tiny but precious, for it was ageneral pardon, in the name of the Republic, for all past offences, byland or sea, against the peace. "_Babai!_" continued Demetrius,lolling back his great length on the couch, "who would have imaginedthat I, just returning from a mere voyage to Delos to get rid of someslaves, should save the lives of my cousin, my benefactor's son, andCaesar himself, and become once more an honest man. Gods! gods! avertthe misfortunes that come from too much good fortune!"
"Was Agias badly wounded?" asked Cornelia, with some concern.
"Oh," replied his cousin, "he will do well. If his precious captivehad thrust his dagger a bit deeper, we might have a sorry timeexplaining it all to that pretty little girl--Artemisia he callsher--whom he dotes upon. By the bye," continued Demetrius, as entirelyat his ease in the company as though he had been one of the world'shigh-born and mighty, "can your ladyship tell me where Artemisia isjust now? She was a very attractive child."
"Assuredly," said Cornelia. "She is here in the palace, very anxious,I doubt not, about Agias. Come, I will send for her. You shall tellher all about his escape."
Demetrius appeared pleased, and Cornelia whispered to a serving-lad,who immediately went out.
The tramp of heavy feet sounded on the mosaics outside the banquetingroom; the tapestry over the doorway was thrust aside, and in the dimlamplight--for it had long been dark--two rigid soldiers in armourcould be seen, standing at attention. Drusus stepped past them, andsaluted.
"The prisoner is here, Imperator," he said.
"Bring him in," replied Caesar, laying down his wine-cup.
The curtain swayed again, and the rest of a decuria of troops entered.In their centre was a figure whose manacles were clinking ominously.In the uncertain light it was only possible to see that the prisonerwas bent and shivering with fright. The general shrugged his shouldersin disgust.
"This is the sort of creature, Drusus," quoth he, derisively, "that isso dangerous that we must despatch him at once? _Phui!_ Let him standforth. I suppose he can still speak?"
Pratinas made a pitiable picture. The scuffle and wetting had donelittle benefit to his clothes; his armour the pirates had long sinceappropriated; his hair, rather long through affectation, hung indisorder around his neck. He had shaved off his "philosopher's" beard,and his smooth cheeks showed ugly scratches. He was as pale as whitelinen, and quaking like a blade of grass in the wind, the veryantithesis of the splendid Ares of the fight on the mole.
"Your name is Pratinas?" began Caesar, with the snappish energy of aman who discharges a disagreeable formality.
"Yes, despotes," began the other, meekly; but as he did so he raisedhis head, and the rays of one of the great candelabra fell full on hisface. In a twinkling a shout, or rather a scream, had broken fromDemetrius. The pirate had leaped from his couch, and, with strainingframe and dilated eyes, sprang between the prisoner and his judge.
"Menon!" The word smote on the captive like the missile of a catapult.He reeled back, almost to falling; his eyes closed involuntarily. Hisface had been pale before, now it was swollen, as with the sight of ahorror.
"Demetrius!" and at this counter exclamation, the cornered man burstinto a howl of animal fear. And well he might, for Demetrius hadsprung upon him as a tiger upon an antelope. One of the guardsindiscreetly interposed, and a stroke of the pirate's fist sent thesoldier sprawling. Demetrius caught his victim around the body, andcrushed the wretched man in beneath his grasp. The pseudo-Pratinas didnot cry out twice. He had no breath. Demetrius tore him off of hisfeet and shook him in mid-air.
"Daphne! Daphne!" thundered the awful pirate; "speak--or by theinfernal gods--"
"Put him down!" shouted Caesar and Drusus. They were almost appealingto an unchained lion roaring over his prey, Drusus caught one ofDemetrius's arms, and with all his strength tore it from its grasp.
"The man cannot say a word! you are choking him," he cried in thepirate's ear.
Demetrius relaxed his mighty grip. Pratinas, for so we still call him,leaned back against one of the soldiers, panting and gasping. Drusustook his assailant by the arm, and led him back to a seat. Caesar satwaiting until the prisoner could speak.
"Pratinas," said the Imperator, sternly, "as you hope for an easydeath or a hard one, tell this man the truth about his daughter."
Pratinas drew himself together by a mighty effort. For an instant hewas the former easy, elegant, versatile Hellene. When he answered itwas with the ring of triumph and defiance.
"Imperator, it would be easy to tell a lie, for there is no means ofproof at hand. This man," with a derisive glance at his enemy, "saysthat I know something about his daughter. Doubtless, though, since hehas pursued for recent years so noble an avocation, it were moregrateful if he thanked me for caring for the deserted girl. Well, Ikept her until she was sufficiently old, and then--for I was at thetime quite poor--disposed of her to a dealer at Antioch, who wasplanning to take a slave caravan to Seleucia. My good friend probablywill find his daughter in some Parthian harem, unless--"
Cornelia had arisen and was whispering to Drusus; the latter turnedand held the raging pirate in his seat. Pratinas had made of everyword a venomed arrow, and each and all struck home. The workings ofDemetrius's face were frightful, the beads of agony stood on hisbrows,--doubtless he had always feared nothing less,--the certaintywas awful. Cornelia looked upon him half-anxious, yet serene andsmiling. Drusus, too, seemed composed and expectant. The Imperatorgazed straight before him, his eyes searching the prisoner through andthrough, and under the glance the Greek again showed signs of fear andnervousness.
The curtain at the opposite end of the hall rustled, Cornelia rose andwalked to the doorway, and returned, leading Artemisia by the hand.The girl was dressed in a pure white chiton; her thick hair was boundback with a white fillet, but in the midst of its mass shone a singlegolden crescent studded with little gems. She came with shy steps anddowncast eyes--abashed before so many strangers; and, as she came, allgazed at her in admiration, not as upon the bright beauty of a rose,but the perfect sweetness of a modest lily. Cornelia led her on, untilthey stood before the prisoner.
"Artemisia," said Cornelia, in a low voice, "have you ever seen thisman before?"
Artemisia raised her eyes, and, as they lit on Pratinas, there was inthem a gleam of wonder, then of fear, and she shrank back in dread, sothat Cornelia threw her arm about her to comfort her.
"_A! A!_" and the girl began to cry. "Has he found me? Will he takeme? Pity! mercy! Pratinas!"
But no one had paid her any more attention. It was Caesar who hadsprung from his seat.
"Wretch!" and his terrible eyes burned into Pratinas's guilty breast,so that he writhed, and held down his head, and began to mutter wordsinaudible. "Can you tell the truth to save yourself the most horribletortures human wit can devise?"
But Pratinas had
nothing to say.
Again Demetrius leaped upon him. The pirate was a frantic animal. Hisfingers moved as though they were claws to pluck the truth from theoffender's heart. He hissed his question between teeth that groundtogether in frenzy.
"How did you get her? Where from? When?"
Pratinas choked for utterance.
"Artemisia! Daphne! Yours! I lost her! Ran away at Rome!"
The words shook out of him like water from a well-filled flask.Demetrius relaxed his hold. A whole flood of conflicting emotions wasdisplayed upon his manly face. He turned to Artemisia.
"_Makaira!_ dearest! don't you know me?" he cried, holdingoutstretched his mighty arms.
"I am afraid!" sobbed poor Artemisia in dismay.
"Come!" It was Cornelia who spoke; and, with the daughter cryingsoftly on one arm, and the father dragged along in a confused state ofecstasy on the other, she led them both out of the room.
Pratinas was on his knees before Caesar. The Hellene was againeloquent--eloquent as never before. In the hour of extremity hissophistry and his rhetoric did not leave him. His antitheses,epigrams, well-rounded maxims, figures of speech, never were at abetter command. For a time, charmed by the flow of his own language,he gathered strength and confidence, and launched out into bolderflights of subtly wrought rhetoric. He excused, explained away eachfault, vivified and magnified a hundred non-existent virtues, reared asplendid word-fabric in praise of clemency. To what end? Before himsat Caesar, and Drusus, and a dozen Romans more, who, with cold,unmoved Italian faces, listened to his artificial eloquence, and gaveno sign of pity. And as he went on, the sense of his hopeless positionovercame the wretched man, and his skill began to leave him. He becamethick and confused of speech; his periods tripped; his thought movedbackward. Then his supple tongue failed him utterly, and, in cries andincoherent groans, he pleaded for the right to exist.
"Man," said the Imperator, when the storm of prayers and moans wasover, "you conspired against Quintus Drusus, my friend. Youfailed--that is forgiven. You conspired, I have cause to believe,against Pompeius, my enemy, but a Roman--that is unproved, andtherefore forgiven. You conspired with Pothinus against me--that wasan offence touching me alone, and so that, too, may be forgiven. Butto the prayers of a father you had wronged, you answered so that youmight gloat over his pain. Therefore you shall die and not live. Takehim away, guards, and strike off his head, for his body is too vile tonail to any cross."
The face of the Greek was livid. He raised his manacled hands, andstrained at the irons in sheer despair. The soldiers caught himroughly to hale him away.
"Mercy! kyrios! kyrios!" he shrieked. "Spare me the torments of Hades!The Furies will pursue me forever! Pity! Mercy!"
Cornelia had reentered the room, and saw this last scene.
"When my uncle and Ahenobarbus were nigh their deaths," she saidstingingly, "this man observed that often, in times of mortal peril,skeptics call on the gods."
"The rule is proved," said Caesar, casting a cynical smile after thesoldiers with their victim. "All men need gods, either to worship whenthey live, or to dread when they die."
Chapter XXV
Calm after Storm
I
Like all human things, the war ended. The Alexandrians might rage anddash their numbers against the palace walls. Ganymed and youngPtolemaeus, who had gone out to him, pressed the siege, but all invain. And help came to the hard-pressed Romans at last. Mithridates, afaithful vassal king, advanced his army over Syria, and came down intothe Delta, sweeping all before him. Then Caesar effected a junctionwith the forces of his ally, and there was one pitched battle on thebanks of the Nile, where Ptolemaeus was defeated, and drowned in hisflight. Less than a month later Alexandria capitulated, and saw thehated consular insignia again within her gates. There was work to doin Egypt, and Caesar--just named dictator at Rome and consul for fiveyears--devoted himself to the task of reform and reorganization.Cleopatra was to be set back upon her throne, and her younger brother,another Ptolemaeus, was to be her colleague. So out of war came peace,and the great Imperator gave laws to yet another kingdom.
But before Caesar sailed away to chastise Pharnaces of Pontus, andclose up his work in the East, ere returning to break down the standof the desperate Pompeians in Africa, there was joy and high festivalin the palace of Alexandria; and all the noble and great of thecapital were at the feast,--the wedding feast of Cornelia and thefavourite staff officer of the Imperator. The soft warm air of theEgyptian springtime blew over the festoons of flowers and over thecarpets of blossoms; never before was the music more sweet and joyous.And overhead hung the great light-laden dome of the glowing azure,where the storks were drifting northward with the northward march ofthe sun.
And they sang the bridal hymns, both Greek and Latin, and cried"Hymen" and "Talasio"; and when evening came,
"The torches tossed their tresses of flame,"
as said the marriage song of Catullus; and underneath the yellow veilof the bride gleamed forth the great diamond necklace, the gift ofCleopatra, which once had been the joy of some Persian princess beforethe Greeks took the hoard at Persepolis.
Agias was there; and Cleomenes and his daughters; and Demetrius, withArtemisia, the most beautiful of girls,--as Cornelia was the fairestof women,--clinging fondly to her father's side. So there was joy thatday and night at the Alexandrian palace. And on the next morning thefleet trireme was ready which Demetrius had provided to bear Drususand Cornelia and Fabia back to Italy. Many were the partings at theroyal quay, and Agias wept when he said farewell to his late patronand patroness; but he had some comfort, for his cousin (who hadarranged with Cleomenes that, since his freebooting days were happilyover, the two should join in a partnership for the India trade) hadmade him a promise to be fulfilled in due course of time--forArtemisia was still very young.
"You are no Ichomachus, Xenophon's perfect wife-educator," theex-pirate had said to his importunate cousin; "wait a few years."
And Agias was fain to be content, with this hope before him.
There were other partings than his; but at last the adieus were over,and all save Caesar went back upon the quay. The Imperator alonetarried on the poop of the vessel for an instant. His features werehalf wistful as he held Drusus by the hand, but his eyes were kindlyas ever to the young man.
"Ah, amice!" he said, "we who play at philosophy may not know all thetime that there are gods, but at all times we know that there is themost godlike of divine attributes--love undefiled. Therefore let ushope, for we see little, and the cosmos is past finding out."
He sprang back on to the quay. The musicians on the bow struck up withpipe and lyre; the friends on the pier flung aboard the last garlandsof rose and lily and scented thyme; the rowers bent to their task; theone hundred and seventy blades--pumiced white--smote the yellow wavesof the harbour, and the ship sped away. Cornelia, Fabia, and Drususstood on the poop gazing toward the receding quay. Long after they hadceased to recognize forms and faces they stared backward, until thepier itself was a speck, and the great buildings of the city grew dim.Then they passed the Pharos, and the land dwindled more and more intoa narrow, dark ribbon betwixt blue water and bluer sky. The longswells of the open sea caught the trireme, and she rode gallantly overthem--while the music still played, and her hardy crew, pirates nolonger, but pardoned men,--seamen, employees of the honest merchantDemetrius,--sent the good ship bounding faster and faster, as theypressed their strength against the springing oars. Higher and higherrose the column of foam around the cutwater; louder and louder sangthe foam under the stern, as they swept it past. The distant landfaded to a thread, to a line, was gone; and to north and south andeast and west were but the water and the cloudless ether. Fabia,Cornelia, and Drusus said little for a long time. Their eyes wandered,sometimes, over the track of the foam, and in their minds they sawagain the water-birds plashing among lotus plants, and heard theancient Egyptian litanies softly chanted behind the propylons of atemple built by some king two thousand years de
parted. But oftenertheir eyes ran ahead over the prow, and they walked again across theForum of the city of their fathers, and drove across the Latinplain-land, and spoke their own dear, sonorous, yet half-polishednative tongue.
At last came evening; the sun sank lower and lower; now his broad reddisk hung over the crest of the western waves; now it touched them;now it was gone, and only the lines of dying fire streamed behindhim--the last runners in his chariot train. Up from the cabin belowcame the voice of the ship's steward, "Would their excellencies takeany refreshment?" But they did not go at once. They watched the firegrow dimmer and dimmer, the pure light change to red gold, the redgold to crimson, and the crimson sink away.
"Ah, carissima!" cried Drusus, "would that when the orbs of our livesgo down to their setting, they might go down like the sunlight, morebeautiful in each act of the very dying, as they approach the finalgoal!"
"Yes, surely," replied Cornelia, touching her hands upon his head;"but who knows but that Catullus the poet is wrong when he says thesun of life will never rise save once; who knows but that, if our sunset in beauty, it will rise again in grandeur even more?"
"My children," said Fabia, gently, "the future lies in the knowledgeof the gods; but out of the present we must shape our own future."
"No, delectissima," replied her nephew, "to do that we are all tooweak; except it be true, as Aratus the poet has said, 'that we men arealso the offspring of gods,' in which case Heaven itself must stoop togive us aid."
But Cornelia's eyes had wandered down into the foam, still gleaming assnow in the failing light.
"Ah!" she said, "the ages are long; if there be gods, their days areour lifetimes, and we but see a little and know not what to think. Butto live a noble life will always be the fairest thing, whether deathbe an unending sleep or the threshold to Pindar's Elysium."
And what more of grave wisdom might have dropped from her lips nonemay relate, for her husband had shaken off the spell, and laughedaloud in the joy of his strong life and buoyant hopes. Then they allthree laughed, and thought no more of sober things. They went downinto the cabin just as the last bars of light flickered out in thewest, and only the starlight broke the darkness that spread out overthe face of the sea.
II
Drusus, as he himself had predicted, never wrote a great treatise onphilosophy, and never drew up a cosmology that set at rest all theproblems of the universe; nor did Cornelia become a Latin Sappho orCorinna, and her wise lore never went further than to make her friendsafraid to affect a shammed learning in her presence. But they both didthe tasks that fell to them better because they had "tasted the wellof Parnassus" and "walked in the grove with the sages." And Drusus,through an active life, played an honourable part as a soldier and astatesman: with his beloved Imperator in the battles of Thapsus andMunda, when the last of the oligarchs were beaten down; then, afterthe great crime of murder, with his friend Marcus Antonius; and then,when Cleopatra's evil star lured both her and Antonius to their ruin,he turned to the only man whose wisdom and firmness promised safety tothe state--and he joined himself to the rising fortunes of Octavius,the great Augustus, and fought with him to the end, until there was nolonger a foreign or civil enemy, and the "Pax Romana" gave quiet to asubject world.
So Drusus had share with Maecenas and Agrippa and the other imperialstatesmen in shaping the fabric of the mighty Roman Empire. Not in hisday did he or Cornelia know that it was wrong to buy slaves likecattle, or to harbour an implacable hate. They were but pagans. Tothem the truth was but seen in a glass darkly; enough if they lived upto such truth as was vouchsafed. But in their children's day thebrightness arose in the East, and spread westward, and ever westward,until the Capitoline Jupiter was nigh forgotten, the glories of theRoman eagles became a tradition, the splendour of the imperial city adream. For there came to the world a better Deity, a diviner glory, amore heavenly city. The greater grew out of the less. Out of theworld-fabric prepared by Julius Caesar grew the fabric of the ChristianChurch, and out of the Christian Church shall rise a yet noblerspiritual edifice when the stars have all grown cold.
THE END
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends