CHAPTER VIII.
THE LOWER STOOL.
"Come now!" said the Emperor, rising from his seat; "it is time that weshould eat. My lady Longina, may it please you to sup with us?"
There was a malevolent glance in his pale watery eye. But Domitia did notsee it, she looked at him as little as might be.
She rose at once. So also did Julia, the daughter of Titus, and theEmperor and his train left the circus; but as they withdrew there roseringing cheers, the people standing on their benches and applauding--notthe Caesar, the Augustus, the Imperator--but her, Domitia, the blue. Thepeople's own true blue. He heard it, and ground his teeth--his face waxedred as blood. Domitia heard it, and her heart filled and her eyes brimmedwith tears.
Then Domitian turned and looked at her savagely, as a dog might look atanother against which it was meditating an onslaught, and said:--
"Remove that blue--I hate it, and come to the banquet." Then with an uglyleer--"I have sent for the actor to amuse you."
"What actor?"
"Paris, madam, the inimitable, the admired Paris, that he may recite fromGreek plays to our pleasure. These Greek tragedians are at a discount. Ourpeople do not care for the dismals. But they are wrong, do not estimatetrue art. You do that really! You like tragedy! and tragedy you shallhave, I warrant you."
The blood mounted to the brow of Domitia at the sneers and covertinsinuations. Paris! what was Paris to her? what but the strugglinghusband of Glyceria? Was it impossible for her to do a kind act, to giveexpansion to her heart, without misinterpretation, without the certaintyof incurring outrage?
She withdrew to her apartments and changed her dress, from the blue towhite with purple stripe and fringes. Then she entered the _triclinium_where the meal was spread.
Domitian was already there, together with Julia, Messalinus, Ursus, andsome other friends. The Emperor, standing apart from the latter, said witha sneer to Domitia,--
"So you have shed your blue--a cloud has passed over the azure! That iswell. And now, madam, I granted you the first place at the games, in thecircus, to humor the people; but in my palace it shall be as I will, notas they. Julia shall take the precedence, and she shall occupy the firstposition at table, and everywhere. She is the daughter of the God Titus,granddaughter of the God Vespasian-"
"And great grand-daughter of the Commissioner of Nuisances."
"Silence," roared Domitian, "she has the sacred Flavian blood, she is ofDivine race, and shall sit by me, recline by me, in the position of honor,and you occupy a stool at my feet. Julia and I will have a lectisterniumof the Gods! Am not I divine?--and she divine?"
"Certainly," answered Domitia, "she is the daughter of a victor who hastriumphed, I the wife of a man who will filch laurels from his generals,and himself has never seen a battle."
Domitian clenched his teeth and hands, and glared at her.
"I wish to the Gods I could find it in my heart to have thee strangled,thou demon cat."
"I can understand that, having let out the divine blood of the Flavii fromthe throat of your cousin Sabinus, you would stoop to me."
"What--what--what is this?" exclaimed Messalinus, thrusting his pointed facein the direction of the prince and Domitia; he scented an altercation.
As for her--she wondered at herself, having the courage to defy the Lord ofthe World. She could not keep down the disgust, the hatred she felt forthe man who had wrecked her life, it must out, and she valued not her lifesufficiently to deny herself the gratification of throwing off her mindthe taunts that rose in it, and lodged on her tongue.
Domitian signed to table--Julia, with a flutter of clumsy timidity, shrankfrom the place of honor, and looked hesitatingly at her sister-in-law, whowithout a word seated herself on the stool indicated by the Emperor. Therewas no vulgar pride, no ambition in the daughter of Titus.
The guests looked at each other, as Julia was forced by the command of heruncle to recline on the couch properly belonging to his wife, andwhispered to each other.
"What, what? Who is where?" asked the ferret-faced Messalinus. "What hasbeen done? Here, Lycus," to a slave, who always attended him, "Tell me,what has been done. In my ear, quick, I burn to know."
Something was communicated in an undertone, and Messalinus broke into acackle, that he quickly smothered--
"That is admirable, great and god-like is our prince! As a Jew physiciansaid to me, he sets down one and setteth up another, at his pleasure. Thatis divine caprice. The Gods alone can act without having to account forwhat they do. I like it--vastly."
And now at once the sycophant herd began to pay their addresses to Julia,and to neglect Domitia. The former was overloaded with flattery, her everyword was repeated, passed on from one to another, as though oracular.Domitian, conspicuously and purposely ignored his wife made to sit at hisfeet; and raising himself on the left elbow upon his _pulvinar_, orcushion of gold brocade, talked with his niece, who also reclined insteadof sitting.
Domitia remained silent with lowered eyes, carnations flowered in hercheeks. She made no attempt to speak; eat she could not. She felt theslight. Her pride was cut to the quick. The humiliation, before such asMessalinus was numbing. She would have endured being ordered to execution,she would have arranged her hair with alacrity, for the bowstring thatwould have finished her troubles, but this outrage before members of thecourt, before the imperial slaves,--and the knowledge that it would be thetalk on the morrow of Roman society, covered her with confusion, andfilled her soul with wrath, for she had pride--not a little.
Ursus, a kinsman of the Emperor, an elderly man, of good character andupright walk, was near her. He alone seemed to feel the indignity put uponthe Empress. His eyes, full of pity, rested on her, and he waited anopportunity to speak to her unheard by others. Then he said, turning hishead towards Domitia,--
"Lady, recall the fable of the oak and the bulrush. Humor the prince andyou can do with him what you will. Believe me, and I speak sincerely,--heloves you still, loves you madly--but you repel him and that offends hispride. All things are his, in earth,--I may almost say in heaven--and hecannot endure that one frail woman's heart should alone be denied him."
"There are certain waters," answered Domitia, "that turn to stone whateveris exposed to them--even a bird's feather. It is as though I had beensubjected to this treatment. My heart is petrified."
"Not so, dear lady, it beats at the present moment with anger. It can alsobeat with love."
"Never towards him who has maltreated me."
"By the Gods! forbear. I am endangered by listening to such words."
"What--what--what is Ursus saying?" asked Messalinus, who caught a word ortwo. "He is beside the Augusta--what did he say--and in a low tone also. Notreason hatching at the table of our Divine Lord, I trust."(12)
"Here come the jesters and the mimes," said Ursus, "and may the god ofLaughter provide such matter for mirth as will satisfy CatullusMessalinus."
"Then it must be a tragedy," said another guest, "for to our blind friendhere, naught is jocose unless to some other it be painful."
"We have all our gifts," said Messalinus, smirking.
Then entered some acrobats who went through evolutions, casting knives andcatching them, forming human pyramids, ladders, wheels, balancing poles ontheir chins whilst a boy went through contortions at the top.
But there was no novelty in the exhibition. The Emperor wearied of it, andordered the performers to withdraw.
Next appeared mimes, who performed low buffoonery in gesture and dialogue,interspersed with snatches of song, that were so offensive to decency thatDomitia, who had never seen and heard anything of the kind at her mother'shouse, sprang to her feet with flaming cheeks, brow and bosom, and made amotion to leave. She knew it--this disgusting performance had beencommanded by the prince, for the purpose of humiliating her. She would go.But Domitian, whose malignant glance was on her, saw her purpose andcalled out,--
"It is m
y will, Domitia, that you remain in your seat. The cream of theentertainment has yet to come."
Ursus put his hand to her garment and gently drew her down on her seat.
"Endure it," he whispered, "it will soon be over."
"It is the worst outrage of all," said she with heaving breast, and theblood so surged into her eyes and ears that she could see and hear nomore.
Indeed, she was hardly conscious when the buffoons withdrew, her eyesrested on the marble floor, strewn with the remains of the feast.(13) Butsuddenly she started from the dream, or the stupefaction into which shehad fallen, by hearing the voice of Paris, the tragic actor.
She looked up sharply, and saw him, a tall, handsome man, of Greekprofile, and with curly dark hair. He was clad in a long mantle, and worethe buskins. Behind him were minor performers, to take a part in dialogue,or to chant a chorus.
"Lord and Augustus, what is it your pleasure that we represent in yourpresence?" asked the actor.
"Repeat the speech of OEdipus Coloneus to Theseus towards the close of thedrama. That, I mean, which begins, 'O son of AEgeus, I will teach thethings that are in store.'"
Paris bowed, and drawing himself up, closing his eyes to represent theblindness of the old king he personated, and with hands extended began:
"O son of AEgeus, I will teach the things that are in store. Myself unguided, straightway go, ye follow, I before. The spot where I am doomed to die--That spot will I reveal. But on your lips, I pray you set, to that a holy seal."
"I WILL TEACH THE THINGS THAT ARE IN STORE." _Page 277._]
"Do you mark, Domitia?" called the Emperor with bantering tone.
"I have looked under the table, sire, to see whether, like your kinsmanCalvisius, you keep there a prompter who has read Eurypides."(14)
Some of the guests hardly controlled their laughter. The deficiency in theeducation of Domitian was well known.
"Go on, fellow," ordered he surlily. "Skip some lines--it is tedious, drawto the end."
Paris resumed:--
"Now let me to that place repair; an impulse from on high, A sacred impulse carries me to where I'm doomed to die. O daughter! I must show the way--aye, I, myself, the guide, To you who hitherto did lead, or clave unto my side. Nay! touch me not, but suffer me, myself to find the road That leadeth to the silent tomb, and to the dark abode. O Hermes! guardian of the soul that fleeteth from this breast! O Goddess of the darkest night--Give to thy weary rest! O light! beloved, glorious light! that once did fill these eyes. Now I embrace thy sacred beams, then turn where shadow lies. O dearest friends, when well with you, and with this land, recall Me, as about my bowed head Death's purple shadows fall."
Then the chorus, in rhythmic dance sang:--
"If it be meet--O Goddess thou, unseen whom all men dread, If it be meet--O awful King who rulest o'er the dead, Be pitiful unto this man, a stranger in the land, And gently, without pain acute, conduct him by the hand From out the world of light into the Stygian deeps below, Remember how that ever here, he suffered want and woe! Ye polished iron gates unclose, and as ye backward roll, Let not the rav'nous monster leap and lacerate the soul. And then on son of Tartarus advance with pity sweet, The fluttering, frightened, parted soul, approaching gently greet!"
"Enough," said Domitian, and waved his hand. "How likest thou that,Domitia?"
"Methinks, sire, the words are ominous. Suffer me I pray thee toretire--for I am not well."
As she rose, she looked at Paris. Their eyes met, and at once a horror--apremonition of evil fell on her, and turned her blood to ice.
He raised his hand to his lips and said in a low tone as she passed him:--
"Morituri te salutant."
"I' faith it is an excellent jest!" said Messalinus--"I relish it vastly."