CHAPTER XI.
AGAIN: THE SWORD OF CORBULO.
Eboracus was able to open a way for the litter through the crowd, nowclustered on the bank of the dyke, watching as the workmen threw downearth and stones, and buried deep that portion of the wall in which wasthe vault where the unhappy Abbess Cornelia was buried alive. And now thepopulace broke forth in sighs and tears, and in murmurings low expressedat the injustice committed in sentencing a woman without allowing her toknow that she had been accused, and of saying a word in her own defence.Some of the crowd was drifting back into Rome, and by entering thiscurrent, the train of Domitia travelled along.
Eboracus returned from the head of the litter repeatedly to the side, tolook within and ascertain whether his mistress were recovering. At thefirst fountain he stopped the convoy and obtained for her water to batheher face, and at a little tavern, he procured strong Campanian wine, whichhe entreated her to sip, so as to nerve her.
As the litter approached the Forum, the crowd again coagulated and at lastremained completely stationary. Again the street was blocked.
Eboracus went forward and forced his way through, that he might ascertainthe cause, and whether the block was temporary and would speedily cease.He came back in great agitation, and said hastily to his mistress:--
"Lady, you cannot proceed. Suffer me to recommend that you go to theCarinae and tarry there--with your lady mother for a while, till yourstrength is restored, and till the streets be more open."
"Eboracus--what is going on? tell me."
"Madam, there is something being transacted in the _comitium_ that causesall the approaches to be packed with people. We might make a circuit--but,lady! I think if you would deign to repose for an hour at your mother'shouse, after what you have suffered, it would be advisable."
"Tell me what is taking place in the _comitium_."
"I should prefer, lady, not to be asked."
"But I have asked."
"Then, dear mistress, do not require of me to make answer."
"Answer truly. Tell me no lie. What is it?"
He hesitated. Then Domitia said:--
"Look at my hand, it is firm, it does not tremble. Nothing that I hear canbe worse than what I have seen."
"Lady--your strength has already failed."
"And now I have gathered my resolution together, and can bear anything. Iadjure you, by your duty to me--answer me, what is taking place in the_comitium_, what is it that causes the streets leading thereto to beimpassable."
"If I must reply----"
"If you do not, I will have you scourged."
"Nay, lady, that is not like thee. It is not fear that will make me speak,but because I know that if I do not, the information can be got fromanother."
"Well--what is it?"
"The knight Celer, on the same charge as that which lost the Great MotherCornelia, is being whipped to death with the scorpion."(15)
"By the same orders? To my mother's in the Carinae."
Hastily Domitia drew the curtains of her litter, and was seen no more,spoke no more till she reached the door of Longa Duilia.
Here she descended and entered the house.
"My dear Domitia! my august daughter! What a pleasure! What an honor!"
The lady Duilia started up to embrace the Empress.
Domitia received the kiss coldly, and sank silent on a stool.
Her mother looked at her with surprise. Domitia was waxen white, her eyeswith dark rings about them, and unnaturally large and bright. The colorhad left her lips and these were leaden in hue.
Domitia did not speak, did not move. She remained for some moments like astatue.
"As the Gods love me!" exclaimed her mother after a long pause, "you arenot going to be ill, surely--nothing dangerous, nothing likely to endunhappily. Ye Gods! and I have so much I want you to do for me. Tell me, Ientreat you. Hide nothing from me. You are suffering. Where is it? What isit? Shall I send for a doctor?"
"Mother, no doctor can cure me. It is here," Domitia pressed her hands toher heart--"and here," to her temples. "I am the most miserable, the mostunfortunate of women."
"Ye Gods! He has divorced you?"
"No, mother. I would that he had."
"Then what is the matter? Have you eaten what disagrees with you? As theGods love me! you should not come out such a figure. Who was yourface-dresser to-day? she ought to be crucified! Not a particle ofpaint--white as ivory. Intolerable--and it has given me such a turn."
Domitia made no reply.
"But what is it? What has made you look like Parian marble?"
"The Great Mother Cornelia--" Domitia could say no more, a lump rose in herthroat and choked her. Then all at once she began to shiver as thoughfrost-stricken and her teeth chattered.
"I have an essence--you must take that," said the lady Duilia. "My dear, Iknow all about that. An estimable lady. I mean she was so till theAugustus decreed otherwise. I am sorry, and all that--but you know--well,these things do happen and must, and I dare be bound that some are glad,as it makes an opening for another needy girl, of good family of course.What is one person's loss is another's gain. The world is so and we can'talter it, and a good thing, I say, that it is so."
"Mother--she was innocent."
"Well, well, we know all about that. Of course it was all nonsense whatwas charged against her, that we quite understand. It would never havedone for the real truth to have been advertised."
"And what was the truth?"
"My dear Domitia! How can you ask such a silly, infantile question? It wasyour doing, you must understand that. You threw yourself on herprotection, embraced the altar of Vesta, and Cornelia with the assistanceof Celer did what she could to further your object in leaving Rome. Ifpeople will do donkey-like things they must get a stick across theirbacks. It is so, and always will be so in this world, and we cannot makeit otherwise."
"I thought so. I was sure it was so," said Domitia gravely. There was aninfinity of sadness, of despair in her tone. "Mother, I bring misfortuneupon all with whom I have to do."
"Ye Gods! not on me! I hope to be preserved from that! Do not speak suchunlucky words--they are of bad omen."
"I cannot help it, mother, it is true. I am the most unfortunate of womenmyself----"
"You speak rank folly. Ye Gods forgive me! saying such a thing to one whois herself divine. But, it is so--you are positively the most fortunate ofwomen. What more do you desire? You are the Augusta, the people swear byyour genius and fortune."
"By _my_ fortune! Alack poor souls!"
"And is it not a piece of good fortune to be raised so high that there isnone above you?"
"My fortune! The Gods know--if they know anything--that I would gladlyexchange my lot with that of a poor woman in a cottage who spins andsings, or of a girl among the mountains who keeps goats and is defended bya boisterous dog. Mother, listen to me. I have brought misfortune onLucius Lamia, I have caused the death of that harmless actor Paris, I havebeen the occasion of Cornelia being--buried alive--watching the expiring ofthe one lamp. Ye Gods! Ye Gods! I shall go mad--and of Celer also.--He----"
She held her face, rocked herself on the seat and sobbed as if her heartwould break.
"Yes," said the old lady, roused to anger at her daughter's lack ofappreciation of the splendor of her position. "Yes, child, and mischiefyou will work on every one, if you continue in the same course. Do men saythat the Augustus is morose? Who made him so?--you by your behavior. Dothey say that he is severe in his judgments? Who has hardened him and madehim cruel?--You--who have dried up all the springs of tenderness in hisbreast. He was not so at first. If he be what men think--it is your work.You with your stinging words goaded him to madness and as he cannot orwill not beat you, as you deserve, he deals the blows on some one else. Ofcourse he cuts away such as you regard and love--because they obtain thatto which he has a right, but which you deny him."
"He--he--a right!"
; Domitia started up, anger, resentment, hatred flared in her eyes,stiffened the muscles of her whole face, made her hair bristle above herbrow.
"He a right, mother! he who tore me away from my dear Lamia, to whom I hadgiven my whole heart, to whom I had been united by your sanction and ourunion blessed by the Gods! He who violated hospitality, the most sacredrights that belong to a house, who repaid your kindness in saving hislife--when he was hunted like a wolf, by breaking and destroying, bytrampling under his accursed heel, the brittle, innocent heart of thedaughter of her who had protected him! No, mother, I owed him no love. Ihave never given him any, because he never had a right to any. Mother--thismust have an end."
She sank into silence that continued for some while.
Duilia did not speak. She did not desire another such explosion, lest theslaves should hear and betray what had been said. Presently, however, shewhispered coaxingly:--
"My dear Domitia, you are overwrought. You have eaten something that hasaffected your temper. I find gherkins always disagree with me. There, goand take a little ginger in white wine, and sleep it off."
Domitia rose, stiffly, as though all her joints were wooden.
"Yes, mother, I will go. But there is one thing I desire of thee. I havelong coveted it, as a remembrancer of my father--may I take it?"
"Anything--anything you like."
Domitia went to the wall and took down the sword of Corbulo, theresuspended.
"It is this, mother. I need it."
Then she departed.
"That sword--ah!" said Duilia. "It has been a little overdone. I havecaught my guests exchanging winks when I alluded to it, and dropped atear. O by all means she shall have it. It has ceased to be of use to me."