CHAPTER XXII.
QUONIAM TU CAIUS, EGO CAIA!
At the earliest rays of dawn the auguries were taken, not as of old by theflight of birds, but by inspection of the liver and heart of a sheep, thatwas slaughtered for the purpose by the Aruspices, and this done they cameto the palace of Duilia, bearing the skin of the sheep, to announce thatthe portents were favorable, in fact, were of extraordinarily goodpromise.
"That is as I hoped," said Longa Duilia, "and that will counteract andbring to naught the disastrous tokens of the wreath. Why, by Venus'sgirdle, the girl has not been able to get her hands white yet. The stainof that nefast herb is on them still. But--ah! here she comes in herflame-colored veil. By the Body of Bacchus! after all it means no ill, fordo not her hands agree in hue with her head-gear?"(6)
Domitia had laid aside her maidenly dress, the _toga praetextata_ wovenwith horizontal stripes, for the dress of a married woman, the _togarecta_, with vertical stripes. About her waist was a woollen girdlefastened in a peculiar manner, with the so-called knot of Hercules, thatwas regarded as a charm against the evil eye, and was also employed inbinding up wounds and fractured bones. The girl's dress, as well as a netof red silk threads in which her hair had been tied up on the previousday, had been offered on the altars of the ancestral deities worshipped inthe house.
Her hair had been divided that morning, not by a comb, but by the head ofa lance, into six tresses that were plaited with colored ribbons. Andabout her head, beneath the veil, was the virgin's wreath woven out of theflowers she had herself picked--but the ill-omened cypress and the blooddistilling _androsoemum_ had been omitted.
And now with pipes and cymbals came the bridegroom attended by all hisfriends, to fetch the bride home. The house door was decorated withlaurels, and incense smoked on the domestic altars, in the vestibule, andin the atrium. The boxes that contained the ancestral wax masks were open,and each face was wreathed about with flowers. Green lines connecting theboxes united all to one trunk forming a family tree. The household godswere not ignored, lamps burned before them, flowers adorned their heads,and cakes and wine were placed on shelves below them.
Slaves ran to and fro, and ran against each other. Ten witnesses, kinsmenof the bride and bridegroom, assembled to take cognizance of the marriagecontract. Two seats were introduced into the hall, and the legs boundtogether, and over both was spread the skin of the sheep slaughtered thatmorning for the auspices.
Then bride and bridegroom were seated on these stools, the marriagecontract was read aloud, and they received the salutations of theirfriends. The _pronuba_, a married female relative united their hands, andthat accomplished, the bridegroom rose, and attended by the friends andkinsfolk of both parties, departed for the Temple of Jupiter, where theflamen Dialis offered sacrifice to the gods of marriage, to Jupiter, Juno,Tellus, and the old Latin half-forgotten deities of Picumnus and Pilumnus.
Whilst the sacred sacrifice was being performed, in the house of the brideall was being made ready for the wedding or meal after midday.
The bride was now esteemed to have passed out of the family of her fatherinto that of her husband, his gods would be her gods, his house her house,his name hers. In signification of this the formula was used by her,"Since thou art Caius, I am Caia." At a remote period it would have been"Since thou art Lucius I am Lucia," and she would have lost her name ofDomitia. But this was no longer customary, only the liturgical form ofsurrender was employed.
It was past noon when the procession returned, swelled by more friends andby all well-wishers, and as it entered the house, with a shiver Domitiaobserved the glowing face and water-blue eyes of the young prince,attended by his lictors. She caught his glance, but he dropped his eyesthe moment they encountered hers, and she saw his cheeks pucker, as thoughwith laughter. But she had no time to give thought to him; she wasrequired to acknowledge the felicitations of the visitors, and to entreatthem to partake of the hospitality of the hour, and to offer a pinch ofincense and a libation to her happiness.
The supper was lengthy--many partook and came in relays, so that the entireafternoon was consumed by it. To the relief of Domitia, the princeDomitian had withdrawn. As each left the table he saluted the bride withthe exclamation, _Feliciter_.
For this long and tedious ceremonial feast, she was allowed to rest on acouch, next to her husband, at the table, in the place of honor.
The meal lasted till evening, and then there ensued a movement.
The household goods of the bride, her spindle and distaff, her chestcontaining robes, were brought forth, and placed on biers to be conveyedto the new house.
Then Domitia rose, with tears in her eyes, and went to the severalchambers she had occupied, to say farewell to the kitchen, to salute thehearth, to the shelf that served as chapel, to bid farewell to theancestral gods, to the wax forefathers in the hall, then to kiss hermother, finally to turn, kneel and embrace the doorposts of the paternaldwelling, and kiss the threshold from which she parted.
Without, the procession waited. She was gently disengaged from hermother's arms, and to the cries of _Talasse!_ amidst a shower of walnutsthrown among the boys by the bridegroom, the procession started.
Domitia was attended by three lads, one went before carrying a torch, theother two walked, one on each side, carrying spindle and distaff. Thetorch, according to rule, was of whitethorn wood, and on arrival at thehouse of the bridegroom would be scrambled for and ripped to pieces by theguests, as every shred was esteemed to carry good luck.
Now rose a burst of song, the so-called Fescennian lays, some old and somenew, accompanied by the flutes of musicians and the clash of castanets andcymbals of dancing girls.
The procession descended the hill to the Forum, crowds lining the way andshouting _Feliciter_!
At a corner there was a little clearing, for there lay a pallet, and on ita sick woman, who had been brought from her dwelling to see the sight. Sheextended and waved her hand, holding something as Domitia approached, andthe bride through her tears noticed her, halted, went towards her, andsaid:--
"Glyceria! you here to wish me happiness!"
"And to give thee, dear lady, a little present."
She extended to her a small amulet, that Domitia accepted gratefully, andstooping kissed the paralyzed woman on the brow.
An unheard-of thing! unparalleled! A thing she would not have done, hadshe been in full control over herself--a thing she would not have done, hadnot her heart brimmed with love for all, at that moment. She, a noblelady, belonging to one of the greatest houses in Rome, kissed a pooractor's wife, an enfranchised slave--and that before all eyes.
About Glyceria was a dense throng of men and women and children, theoccupants of the "Island" in which she lived. It was they, who, pityingher sufferings, desirous that she should see the procession, had opened aspace before her, and held it open, that none might impede a full view ofthe marriage train.
And this throng of rude artisans, shoemakers, cordwainers,leather-sellers, hawkers and their wives and children saw this act ofDomitia. For a moment they were silent, and then they broke into a roar of"Feliciter! feliciter! the Gods be with thee, dear lady! The Gods protectthee! The Gods shower blessings on thee!"
But Domitia might not tarry; confused, half ashamed of what she had done,half carried off her feet by the thrill of joy that went from the crowd toher, she advanced.
The train descended by the lake of Nero, now occupied by the Colosseum,then ascended the Celian Hill to the house of Lamia.
On reaching his door, the procession spread out, and gave space for thebride to advance.
Modestly, trembling with love, timidity, hope in her heart, she anointedthe doorposts with oil and then passed woollen strings round them.
This accomplished, two young men started forward, caught her up, made aseat for her of their hands, and bore her over the threshold, which shemight not touch with her feet, lest by accident or nervousness she shouldstum
ble, and so her entry into the new house be ill-omened. On beingadmitted into the habitation of her husband, it was her duty to go to thehearth and make up the fire, then to the fountain and draw water; next toworship the household gods.
The house was pretty. It had been fresh painted, and was bright withcolor, and sweet with flowers, for every pillar was wreathed and each doorgarlanded. Numerous lamps illumined the chambers, and in the atrium werereflected in the water tank. The air was vibrating with music, as choirssang Fescennian songs, and timbrels tinkled and pipes twittered.
Domitia was received by the wife of L. AElius Lamia, who had adoptedDomitia's husband. He was a quiet man, who had no ambition, had taken nooffices, and had passed his time in taming birds. He was the son of abetter known man, who had been a friend of Horace.
The old woman, gentle in manner, took Domitia by the hand and led her intothe tablinum, where was old Lamia, a cripple through gout, and he kissedthe girl, patted her hands and spoke an affectionate welcome.
"Claudia and I," said he, "were childless and so we adopted Lucius. He hasbeen a good son to us, and this is a happy day to all three,--to him whohas secured the sweetest flower of Rome, and to Claudia and me who obtainso good a daughter. But, ah! we are old and have our humors, I, with mygout, am liable to be peevish. You must bear with our infirmities. Youwill have a worthy husband, one cut out of the old rock of which were theancient Romans, and not of the Tiberine mud of which the presentgeneration are moulded."
"Come now," said the old woman, "the guests are about to depart, bid themfarewell."
Then she led the young girl back into the atrium.
There stood the Chaldaean, dark, stern, ominous.
Domitia in exuberant joy smiled at him, and said:
"Elymas! You see my happiness. Isis has for once been in error--we, myLamia and I, are united, and there have been no hands thrust forth to partus."
"My lady," said the astrologer, "the day is not yet over."
"And the auguries were all propitious."
"The promise of the augurs may not jump with thy desire," he replied.
She had no time for more words, as her hand was caught by L. AElius Lamia,who drew her aside into the _lararium_ or chapel.
"My dearest," he said, "this is a day of trial to thee--but we shall beleft undisturbed shortly. The guests depart and the riot will cease."
She looked at him, with eyes that brimmed with tears, and a sob relievedher heart, as she cast herself on his breast and said:--
"Quoniam tu Caius, ego Caia."