CHAPTER IV.
ANOTHER APPEAL.
On reaching the street, Domitia saw at once that the aspect of thepopulace was changed. Instead of the busy hum of trade, the calls ofhucksters, the laugh of the mirthful, a stillness had come on every one;no face smiled, no voice was raised, scarcely any person moved.
Those who had been bustling here and there stood motionless, trade hadceased. A sudden frost had arrested the flow of life and reduced all itsmanifestations to the lowest term. Such as had been running aboutcollected in clusters, and conversed in whispers. Blank faces looked atDomitia as she entered her litter, with awed respect.
"Eboracus! What is the meaning of this?" asked the lady.
"Madam, I know not. None will confide what they seem to know or tosuspect."
"Go forward," said she, "I will visit my mother in the Carinae. She willknow everything."
In another moment her train was in movement, and as she passed along, allbowed and saluted with their hands; they had done as much previously, butwithout the earnestness that was now observable. In the heart of Domitiawas as it were a blade of ice transpiercing it. She was in deadly alarmlest her surmise should prove true.
She would not draw the curtains of her litter, but looked at everything inthe streets, and saw that all were in the same condition of stupefaction.
On reaching the entrance to the palace occupied by her mother, Domitianoticed another palanquin and attendants.
"The Vestal Abbess, Cornelia, is with the Lady Duilia," said Eboracus.
"I will go in!--I know her well, and esteem her," said Domitia.
She passed the vestibule, traversed the Atrium and entered the Tablinum.But Longa Duilia was not there. A slave coming up, said that she hadentered with the Great Mother into a private apartment, where she mightnot be disturbed.
"Well! I am no stranger. Lead the way."
In another instant she was ushered into her mother's presence, and at onceDuilia bowed to her with profound respect.
"Mother--what does this mean?"
"Here is the Lady Abbess, Cornelia, let me present her to your Highness."
"Mother--I salute the Lady Cornelia--what is this that has cast a shadowover Rome and frightened the people as with an eclipse?"
"My dear, of course you have heard. It may be only rumor and yet,--he wassuffering when he left Rome."
"Ye Gods! do not say so! Mother, withdraw your words of bad omen. Naughthas befallen him! It was but a slight fever."
"So we esteemed it, but----"
"But, mother----" Domitia panted.
"The news are weighty, and concern you vastly, my daughter."
"It is too horrible for me to think. Surely, surely, mother, it is false."
"Hearken, my dear,--Lady Cornelia, come also to the top of the house. It isa fine situation for seeing and hearing, and out of all reach ofeavesdroppers. I hear shouts, I hear horns blowing. Come--speedily! let usto the house-top."
Laying hold of Domitia and the Vestal Superior by the wrists, she drewthem with her to the roof.
The silence that had fallen on Rome had passed away, the town was nowresonant with horns and trumpets pealing from the Praetorian camp, with theshouting of many voices from the same quarter. In the streets, messengerswere running, armed with knotted sticks, and were hammering at the doorsof Senators to summon them to an extraordinary meeting. The clash of armsresounded, so also the tramp of feet, as the city police marched in thedirection of the Palatine. Here and there rose loud cries, but what theysignified could not be judged.
In another moment Eboracus came out on the housetop, and hastening to hismistress, said:--
"Madam, the Augustus--Titus, _has been_. The Caesar Domitian is proclaimedEmperor by the troops. The _vigiles_ are hastening in cohorts to swearallegiance."
"I congratulate you--I congratulate you with all my heart!" exclaimed LongaDuilia, throwing her arms round her daughter. "I have reached the summitof my ambition. I vow a kid to Febronia for her opportune--ahem!--but whowould have thought the Roman fever would have been so speedy in bringingus luck. Run, Eboracus, summon the housekeeper; order the ancestral masksto be exposed, all the boxes opened, dust the noses with the featherbrush; let the _lares_ be garlanded. Tell Paulina to bring out the bestincense, not the cheapest this time, and I vow I will throw a double pinchon the altar of the household gods. Who would have thought it! I--I, motherto an empress. I would dance on the house-top, but that my wig is notproperly pinned, and might come off. I must, I positively must embrace youagain, Domitia; and you too, Cornelia, I am so happy!--As the Gods love me!Wig pinned or not, I must dance."
"Let us go down," said Domitia in a hard tone.
"Come down, by all means," acquiesced her mother. "I must see that theGods be properly thanked. I stepped this morning out of bed left legforemost.(9) I knew some happiness would come to me to-day. As the Godslove me! I'll give a little supper. Domitia! whom shall I invite? None ofyour second-class men now. There!--I thought as much; my wig has come off.Never mind! no men can see me, and women don't count."
On reaching the private apartment of the lady, Domitia said:--
"Mother--a word."
She was white, save that a flame was kindled on each cheek-bone and hereyes scintillated like burning coals.
"Well, my dear, I am all ears--even to my toes."
"Mother, he murdered him. I know it--I feared there was mischief meant,when Domitian attended him to Cutiliae and took Elymas with him. It was notfever that----"
"MOTHER, HE MURDERED HIM." _Page 240._]
"My dear, don't bother your head about these matters. They all do it. Wewomen, I thank the Gods, are outside of politics. But--well--well, you mustnot say such things, not even think them. It is all for the best in thebest of worlds. I never had the smallest wish to see behind the scenes.Always eat your meat cooked and spiced, and don't ask to see it as itcomes from the shambles. If you are quite positive, then I won't throwaway the kid on Febronia. It is of no use wasting money on a goddess whoreally has not helped."
"Mother," said Domitia, her whole frame quivering with excitement; "I amsure of it. Did not the Augustus give his daughter Julia to FlaviusSabinus? I know that Domitian was alarmed at that. I saw it in his looks,I heard it in his voice; his movements of hand and foot proclaimed it. Hefeared a rival. He feared what the will of Titus might be--whom he mightname as his successor. Mark me, my mother; the first to fall will beFlavius Sabinus."
"Hist! the word is of bad omen."
"It was of bad omen to Sabinus and to Titus alike when Julia was given toher cousin."
"Well, my dear," said Longa Duilia, "I do not see that we need concernourselves about politics. You see,--every night, stars drop out of theheavens; the firmament is overcrowded, and those stars that are firmestplanted elbow out the weakest. It is their way in heaven, and what othercan you expect on earth? Of course, it were much to be desired--and allthat sort of thing; but we did not make the world, neither do we rule it.All eggs in a nest do not hatch out, some addle."
"Mother, I will not go back to him."
"Folly! you cannot do other."
"I will not. My condition was bad enough before, it will be worse now."
"Domitia, set your mind at rest. I have no doubt that there have beenlittle unpleasantnesses. Man and wife do not always agree. Your poorfather would not be ruled by me. If he had--ah me!--Things would have beenvery different in Rome. But he suffered for his obstinacy. You must becontent to take things as you find them. Most certainly it would be betterin every way if peacocks had eyes on both sides of their tails, but asthey have not, only very silly peacocks turn about and expose the eyelessside. Make the best of matrimony. It is not many marriages are like youngwalnuts, that you can peel off the bitter and eat only the sweet. In most,the skin adheres so tightly that you have to take the sweet with the gall,and be content that there is any sweet at all."
"I shall go away. I will
not return to the palace."
"Go whither? the world belongs to Domitian. There is not a corner whereyou can hide. There are officials, and when not officials--spies. I have nodoubt that the fish in that tank put up their heads and wish they werebutterflies to soar above the roof and get away and sport among theflowers, instead of going interminably about the _impluvium_. But, mydear, they can't do it, so they acquiesce in tank existence. Yours is thefinest and best lot in the world,--and you would surrender it! From being alioness you would decline to be a house cat!"
Domitia turned abruptly away, tears of anger and disappointment were inher eyes.
She said in a muffled voice:--
"Lady Cornelia, will you come with me?"
"I am at your service," answered the Vestal.
The ladies departed together, and at the portal each entered her ownlitter.
"To the Atrium Vestae," said Domitia.
Her retinue started, and a moment after followed that of the VestalCornelia.
The streets were full of excited multitudes, currents running up one side,down another, meeting, coming to a standstill, clotting, and choking thethoroughfares, then breaking up and flowing again.
If it had not been for the liveries of the two heralds, the palanquin ofDomitia could not have got through, but when it was observed whose litterand servants were endeavoring to make way, the crowd readily divided, andevery obstacle gave way immediately. But the Vestal Superior needed notthat the Caesar's wife should open the road for her. As much respect wasaccorded to her as to Domitia.
Both trains, the one following immediately after the other, entered andtraversed the Forum, passed the Temple of Julius, and at the southextremity reached the Atrium of the Vestal Virgins, a long buildingwithout a window, communicating with the outer world by a single door.
At this door Domitia descended from her litter, and awaited the Abbess.
Cornelia also stepped from her litter. She was a tall and stately lady offorty years, who had once been beautiful, but whose charms were faded. Shesmiled--
"You will pay me a visit, as you go your way? that is a gracious favor."
"A lengthy visit," said Domitia.
"Time will never seem long in your sweet society," answered the Vestal andtaking Domitia's hand led her up the steps to the platform.
No sooner was Domitia there, than she ran to the altar of the Goddess onwhich burned the perpetual fire, within a domed Temple, and clasped it.Cornelia had followed her, and looked at her with surprise.
"I claim the protection of the Goddess," said Domitia. "I will not returnto the palace! I will be free from _him_."
Cornelia became grave.
"If your Goddess has any might, any grace, she will protect me. Do youfear? Have you lost your rights? I claim them."
"Be it so," said the Abbess. "None have appealed to the Goddess in vain,none taken sanctuary with her, who have been rejected. She will maintainyour cause."