CHAPTER VII.
When he reached the Caesareum the high-chamberlain was waiting toconduct him to Sabina who desired to speak with him notwithstandingthe lateness of the hour, and when Verus entered the presence ofhis patroness, he found her in the greatest excitement. She was notreclining as usual on her pillows but was pacing her room with stridesof very unfeminine length.
"It is well that you have come!" she exclaimed to the praetor. "Lentulusinsists that he has seen Mastor the slave, and Balbilla declares--but itis impossible!"
"You think that Caesar is here?" asked Verus.
"Did they tell you so too?"
"No. I do not linger to talk when you require my presence and thereis something important to be told just now then--but you must not bealarmed."
"No useless speeches!"
"Just now I met, in his own person--"
"Who?"
"Hadrian."
"You are not mistaken, you are sure you saw him?"
"With these eyes."
"Abominable, unworthy, disgraceful!" cried Sabina, so loudly andviolently that she was startled at the shrill tones of her own voice.Her tall thin figure quivered with excitement, and to any one else shewould have appeared in the highest degree graceless, unwomanly, andrepulsive: but Verus had been accustomed from his childhood to see herwith kinder eyes than other men, and it grieved him.
There are women who remind us of fading flowers, extinguished lights orvanishing shades, and they are not the least attractive of their sex:but the large-boned, stiff and meagre Sabina had none of the yieldingand tender grace of these gentle creatures. Her feeble health, which wasvery evident, became her particularly ill when, as at this moment,the harsh acrimony of her embittered soul came to light with hideousplainness.
She was deeply indignant at the affront her husband had put upon her.Not content with having a separate house established for her he keptaloof in Alexandria without informing her of his arrival. Her handstrembled with rage, and stammering rather than speaking she desired thepraetor to order a composing draught for her. When Verus returned shewas lying on her cushions, with her face turned to the wall, and saidlamentably:
"I am freezing; spread that coverlet over me. I am a miserable, ill-usedcreature."
"You are sensitive and take things too hardly," the praetor ventured toremonstrate.
She started up angrily, cut off his speech, and put him through as keena cross-examination as if he were an accused person and she his judge.Ere long she had learnt that Verus also had encountered Mastor, that herhusband was residing at Lochias, that he had taken part in the festivalin disguise, and had exposed himself to grave danger outside the houseof Apollodorus. She also made him tell her how the Israelite had beenrescued, and whom her friend had met in his house, and she blamed Veruswith bitter words for the heedless and foolhardy recklessness withwhich he had risked his life for a miserable Jew, forgetting the highdestinies that lay before him. The praetor had not interrupted her, butnow bowing over her, he kissed her hand and said:
"Your kind heart foresees for me things that I dare not hope for.Something is glimmering on the horizon of my fortune. Is it the dyingglow of my failing fortunes, is it the pale dawn of a coming and moreglorious day? Who can tell? I await with patience whatever may beimpending--an early day must decide."
"That will bring certainty, and put an end to this suspense," murmuredSabina.
"Now rest and try to sleep," said Verus with a tender fervency, that waspeculiar to his tones. "It is past midnight and the physician has oftenforbidden you to sit up late. Farewell, dream sweetly, and always be thesame to me as a man, that you were to me in my childhood and youth."
Sabina withdrew the hand he had taken, saying:
"But you must not leave me. I want you. I cannot exist without yourpresence."
"Till to-morrow--always--forever I will stay with you whenever you needme."
The Empress gave him her hand again, and sighed softly as he again bowedover it, and pressed it long to his lips.
"You are my friend, Verus, truly my friend; yes, I am sure of it," shesaid at last, breaking the silence.
"Oh Sabina, my Mother!" he answered tenderly. "You spoiled me withkindness even when I was a boy, and what can I do to thank you for allthis?"
"Be always the same to me that you are to-day. Will you always--for alltime be the same, whatever your fortunes may be?"
"In joy and in adversity always the same; always your friend, alwaysready to give my life for you."
"In spite of my husband, always, even when you think you no longer needmy favor!"
"Always, for without you I should be nothing--utterly miserable."
The Empress heaved a deep sigh and sat bolt upright on her couch. Shehad formed a great resolve, and she said slowly, emphasizing every word:
"If nothing utterly unforeseen occurs in the heavens on yourbirth-night, you shall be our son, and so Hadrian's successor and heir.I swear it."
There was something solemn in her voice, and her small eyes were wideopen.
"Sabina, Mother, guardian spirit of my life!" cried Verus, and he fellon his knees by her couch. She looked in his handsome face with deepemotion, laid her hands on his temples, and pressed her lips on his darkcurls.
A moist brilliancy sparkled in those eyes, unapt to tears, and in a softand appealing tone that no one had ever before heard in her voice shesaid:
"Even at the summit of fortune, after your adoption, even in the purpleall will be the same between us two. Will it? Tell me, will it?"
"Always, always!" cried Verus. "And if our hopes are fulfilled--"
"Then, then," interrupted Sabina and she shivered as she spoke. "Then,still you will be to me the same that you are now; but to be sure, to besure--the temples of the gods would be empty if mortals had nothing leftto wish for."
"Ah! no. Then they would bring thank-offerings to the divinity," criedVerus, and he looked up at the Empress; but she turned away from hissmiling glance and exclaimed in a tone of reproof and alarm:
"No playing with words, no empty speeches or rash jesting! in the nameof all the gods, not at this time! For this hour, this night is amongits fellows what a hallowed temple is among other buildings--what thefervent sun is among the other lights of heaven. You know not how Ifeel, nay, I hardly know myself. Not now, not now, one lightly-spokenword!"
Verus gazed at Sabina with growing astonishment. She had always beenkinder to him than to any one else in the world and he felt bound to herby all the ties of gratitude and the sweet memories of childhood. Evenas a boy, out of all his playfellows he was the only one who, far fromfearing her had clung to her. But to-night! who had ever seen Sabina insuch a mood? Was this the harsh bitter woman whose heart seemed filledwith gall, whose tongue cut like a dagger every one against whom sheused it? Was this Sabina who no doubt was kindly disposed towards himbut who loved no one else, not even herself? Did he see rightly, or washe under some delusion? Tears, genuine, honest, unaffected tears filledher eyes as she went on:
"Here I he, a poor sickly woman, sensitive in body and in soul as ifI were covered with wounds. Every movement, and even the gaze and thevoice of most of my fellow-creatures is a pain to me. I am old, mucholder than you think and so wretched, so wretched, none of you canimagine how wretched. I was never happy as a child, never as a girl,and as a wife--merciful gods!--every kind word that Hadrian has evervouchsafed me I have paid for with a thousand humiliations."
"He always treats you with the utmost esteem," interrupted Verus.
"Before you, before the world! But what do I care for esteem! I maydemand the respect, the adoration of millions and it will be mine. Love,love, a little unselfish love is what I ask--and if only I were sure, ifonly I dared to hope that you give me such love, I would thank youwith all that I have, then this hour would be hallowed to me above allothers."
"How can you doubt me Mother? My dearly beloved Mother!"
"That is comfort, that is happiness!" answered Sabina. "Your voice
isnever too loud for me, and I believe you, I dare trust you. This hourmakes you my son, makes me your mother."
Tender emotion, the emotion that softens the heart, thrilled throughSabina's dried-up nature and sparkled in her eyes. She felt like a youngwife of whom a child is born, and the voice of her heart sings to her insoothing tones: "It lives, it is mine, I am the providence of a livingsoul, I am a mother."
She gazed blissfully into Verus' eyes and exclaimed, "Give me your handmy son, help me up, for I will be here no longer. What good spirits Ifeel in! Yes, this is the joy that is allotted to other women beforetheir hair is grey! But child--dear and only child--you must love mereally as a mother. I am too old for tender trifling, and yet I couldnot bear it if you gave me nothing but a child's reverence. No, no, youmust be my friend whose heart warns him of my wishes, who can laugh withme to-day, and weep with me to-morrow--and who shows that he is happierwhen his eye meets mine. You are now my son; and soon you shall havethe name of son; that is happiness enough for one evening. Not anotherword--this hour is like the finished masterpiece of some great painter;every touch that could be added might spoil it. You may kiss myforehead, I will kiss yours; now I will go to rest, and to-morrow when Iwake I shall say to myself that I possess something worth living for--achild, a son."
When the Empress was alone she raised her hand in prayer but she couldfind no words of thanksgiving. One hour of pure happiness she had indeedenjoyed, but how many days, months, years of joylessness and sufferinglay behind her! Gratitude knocked at the door of her heart but it wasinstantly met by bitter defiance; what was one hour of happiness in thebalance against a ruined lifetime?
Foolish woman! she had never sown the seeds of love, and now she blamedthe gods for niggardliness and cruelty in denying her a harvest of love.And now, on what soil had the seed of maternal tenderness fallen?
Verus it is true had left her content and full of hope--Sabina's altereddemeanor, it is true, had touched his heart--he purposed to cling to herfaithfully even after his formal adoption; but the light in his eye wasnot that of a proud and happy son, on the contrary it sparkled like thatof a warrior who hopes to gain the victory.
Notwithstanding the late hour, his wife had not yet gone to bed. She hadheard that he had been summoned to the Empress on his return home, andawaited him not without anxiety, for she was not accustomed to anythingpleasant from Sabina. Her husband's hasty step echoed loudly from thestone walls of the sleeping palace. She heard it at some distance, andwent to the door of her room to meet him. Radiant, excited, and withflushed cheeks, he held out both his hands to her. She looked so fairin her white night-wrapper of fine white material, and his heart wasso full that he clasped her in his arms as fondly as when she was hisbride; and she loved him even now no less than she had done then,and felt for the hundredth time with grateful joy that the faithlessscapegrace had once more returned to her unchangeable and faithfulheart, like a sailor who, after wandering through many lands seeks hisnative port.
"Lucilla," he cried, disengaging her arms from round his neck."Oh, Lucilla! what an evening this has been! I always judged Sabinadifferently from you, and have felt with gratitude that she really caredfor me. Now all is clear between her and me! She called me her son. Icalled her mother. I owe it to her, and the purple--the purple is ours!You are the wife of Verus Caesar; you are certain of it if no signs andomens come to frighten Hadrian."
In a few eager words, which betrayed not merely the triumph of a luckygambler, but also true emotion and gratitude, he related all that hadpassed in Sabina's room. His frank and confident contentment silencedher doubts, her dread of the stupendous fate which, beckoning her, yetthreatening her, drew visibly nearer and nearer. In her mind's eye shesaw the husband she loved, she saw her son, seated on the throne of theCaesars, and she herself crowned with the radiant diadem of the womanwhom she hated with all the force of her soul. Her husband's kindlyfeeling towards the Empress and the faithful allegiance which had tiedhim to her from his boyhood did not disquiet her; but a wife allows thehusband of her choice every happiness, every gift excepting only thelove of another woman, and will forgive her hatred and abuse rather thansuch love.
Lucilla was greatly excited, and a thought, that for years had beenlocked in the inmost shrine of her heart, to-day proved too strongfor her powers of reticence. Hadrian was supposed to have murderedher father, but no one could positively assert it, though either he oranother man had certainly slain the noble Nigrinus. At this moment theold suspicion stirred her soul with revived force, and lifting her righthand, as if in attestation, she exclaimed:
"Oh, Fate, Fate! that my husband should be heir of the man who murderedmy father!"
"Lucilla," interrupted Verus, "it is unjust even to think of suchhorrors, and to speak of them is madness. Do not utter it a second time,least of all to-day. What may have occurred formerly must not spoil thepresent and the future which belong to us and to our children."
"Nigrinus was the grandfather of those children," cried the Roman motherwith flashing eyes.
"That is to say that you harbor in your soul the wish to avenge yourfather's death on Caesar."
"I am the daughter of the butchered man."
"But you do not know the murderer, and the purple must outweigh the lifeof one man, for it is often bought with many thousand lives. And then,Lucilla, as you know, I love happy faces, and Revenge has a sinisterbrow. Let us be happy, oh wife of Caesar! Tomorrow I shall have much totell you, now I must go to a splendid banquet which the son of Plutarchis giving in my honor. I cannot stay with you--truly I cannot, I havebeen expected long since. And when we are in Rome never let me find youtelling the children those old dismal stories--I will not have it."
As Verus, preceded by his slaves bearing torches, made his way throughthe garden of the Caesareum he saw a light in the rooms of Balbilla, thepoetess, and he called up merrily:
"Good-night, fair Muse!"
"Good-night, sham Eros!" she retorted.
"You are decking yourself in borrowed feathers, Poetess," replied he,laughing. "It is not you but the ill-mannered Alexandrians who inventedthat name!"
"Oh! and other and better ones," cried she. "What I have heard and seento-day passes all belief!"
"And you will celebrate it in your poems?"
"Only some of it, and that in a satire which I propose to aim at you."
"I tremble!"
"With delight, it is to be hoped; my poem will embalm your memory forposterity."
"That is true, and the more spiteful your verses, the more certainlywill future generations believe that Verus was the Phaon of Balbilla'sSappho, and that love scorned filled the fair singer with bitterness."
"I thank you for the caution. To-day at any rate you are safe from myverse, for I am tired to death."
"Did you venture into the streets?"
"It was quite safe, for I had a trustworthy escort."
"May I be allowed to ask who?"
"Why not? It was Pontius the architect who was with me."
"He knows the town well."
"And in his care I would trust myself to descend, like Orpheus, intoHades."
"Happy Pontius!"
"Most happy Verus!"
"What am I to understand by those words, charming Balbilla?"
"The poor architect is able to please by being a good guide, while toyou belongs the whole heart of Lucilla, your sweet wife."
"And she has the whole of mine so far as it is not full of Balbilla.Good-night, saucy Muse; sleep well."
"Sleep ill, you incorrigible tormentor!" cried the girl, drawing thecurtain across her window.