Chapter IX
LYGIA was grieved to lose Pomponia Graecina, whom she loved with herwhole soul, and she grieved for the household of Aulus; still herdespair passed away. She felt a certain delight even in the thought thatshe was sacrificing plenty and comfort for her Truth, and was enteringon an unknown and wandering existence. Perhaps there was in this alittle also of childish curiosity as to what that life would be, offsomewhere in remote regions, among wild beasts and barbarians. But therewas still more a deep and trusting faith, that by acting thus she wasdoing as the Divine Master had commanded, and that henceforth He Himselfwould watch over her, as over an obedient and faithful child. In such acase what harm could meet her? If sufferings come, she will endure themin His name. If sudden death comes, He will take her; and some time,when Pomponia dies, they will be together for all eternity. More thanonce when she was in the house of Aulus, she tortured her childish headbecause she, a Christian, could do nothing for that Crucified, of whomUrsus spoke with such tenderness. But now the moment had come. Lygiafelt almost happy, and began to speak of her happiness to Acte, whocould not understand her, however. To leave everything,--to leavehouse, wealth, the city, gardens, temples, porticos, everything thatis beautiful; leave a sunny land and people near to one--and for whatpurpose? To hide from the love of a young and stately knight. In Acte'shead these things could not find place. At times she felt that Lygia'saction was right, that there must be some immense mysterious happinessin it; but she could not give a clear account to herself of the matter,especially since an adventure was before Lygia which might have an evilending,--an adventure in which she might lose her life simply. Acte wastimid by nature, and she thought with dread of what the coming eveningmight bring. But she was loath to mention her fears to Lygia; meanwhile,as the day was clear and the sun looked into the atrium, she began topersuade her to take the rest needed after a night without sleep. Lygiadid not refuse; and both went to the cubiculum, which was spacious andfurnished with luxury because of Acte's former relations with Caesar.There they lay down side by side, but in spite of her weariness Actecould not sleep. For a long time she had been sad and unhappy, but nowshe was seized by a certain uneasiness which she had never felt before.So far life had seemed to her simply grievous and deprived of a morrow;now all at once it seemed to her dishonorable.
Increasing chaos rose in her head. Again the door to light began to openand close. But in the moment when it opened, that light so dazzled herthat she could see nothing distinctly. She divined, merely, that in thatlight there was happiness of some kind, happiness beyond measure, inpresence of which every other was nothing, to such a degree that ifCaesar, for example, were to set aside Poppaea, and love her, Acte, again,it would be vanity. Suddenly the thought came to her that that Caesarwhom she loved, whom she held involuntarily as a kind of demigod, was aspitiful as any slave, and that palace, with columns of Numidian marble,no better than a heap of stones. At last, however, those feelings whichshe had not power to define began to torment her; she wanted tosleep, but being tortured by alarm she could not. Thinking that Lygia,threatened by so many perils and uncertainties, was not sleeping either,she turned to her to speak of her flight in the evening. But Lygia wassleeping calmly. Into the dark cubiculum, past the curtain which was notclosely drawn, came a few bright rays, in which golden dust-motes wereplaying. By the light of these rays Acte saw her delicate face, restingon her bare arm, her closed eyes, and her mouth slightly open. She wasbreathing regularly, but as people breathe while asleep.
"She sleeps,--she is able to sleep," thought Acte. "She is a child yet."Still, after a while it came to her mind that that child chose to fleerather than remain the beloved of Vinicius; she preferred want to shame,wandering to a lordly house, to robes, jewels, and feasts, to the soundof lutes and citharas.
"Why?"
And she gazed at Lygia, as if to find an answer in her sleeping face.She looked at her clear forehead, at the calm arch of her brows, ather dark tresses, at her parted lips, at her virgin bosom moved by calmbreathing; then she thought again,--"How different from me!"
Lygia seemed to her a miracle, a sort of divine vision, somethingbeloved of the gods, a hundred times more beautiful than all the flowersin Caesar's garden, than all the statues in his palace. But in the Greekwoman's heart there was no envy. On the contrary, at thought of thedangers which threatened the girl, great pity seized her. A certainmotherly feeling rose in the woman. Lygia seemed to her not only asbeautiful as a beautiful vision, but also very dear, and, putting herlips to her dark hair, she kissed it.
But Lygia slept on calmly, as if at home, under the care of PomponiaGraecina. And she slept rather long. Midday had passed when she openedher blue eyes and looked around the cubiculum in astonishment. Evidentlyshe wondered that she was not in the house of Aulus.
"That is thou, Acte?" said she at last, seeing in the darkness the faceof the Greek.
"I, Lygia."
"Is it evening?"
"No, child; but midday has passed."
"And has Ursus not returned?"
"Ursus did not say that he would return; he said that he would watch inthe evening, with Christians, for the litter."
"True."
Then they left the cubiculum and went to the bath, where Acte bathedLygia; then she took her to breakfast and afterward to the gardens ofthe palace, in which no dangerous meeting might be feared, since Caesarand his principal courtiers were sleeping yet. For the first time inher life Lygia saw those magnificent gardens, full of pines, cypresses,oaks, olives, and myrtles, among which appeared white here and there awhole population of statues. The mirror of ponds gleamed quietly; grovesof roses were blooming, watered with the spray of fountains; entrancesto charming grottos were encircled with a growth of ivy or woodbine;silver-colored swans were sailing on the water; amidst statues and treeswandered tame gazelles from the deserts of Africa, and rich-coloredbirds from all known countries on earth.
The gardens were empty; but here and there slaves were working, spade inhand, singing in an undertone; others, to whom was granted a momentof rest, were sitting by ponds or in the shade of groves, in tremblinglight produced by sun-rays breaking in between leaves; others werewatering roses or the pale lily-colored blossoms of the saffron. Acteand Lygia walked rather long, looking at all the wonders of the gardens;and though Lygia's mind was not at rest, she was too much a child yet toresist pleasure, curiosity, and wonder. It occurred to her, even, thatif Caesar were good, he might be very happy in such a palace, in suchgardens.
But at last, tired somewhat, the two women sat down on a bench hiddenalmost entirely by dense cypresses and began to talk of that whichweighed on their hearts most,--that is, of Lygia's escape in theevening. Acte was far less at rest than Lygia touching its success. Attimes it seemed to her even a mad project, which could not succeed.She felt a growing pity for Lygia. It seemed to her that it would bea hundred times safer to try to act on Vinicius. After a while sheinquired of Lygia how long she had known him, and whether she did notthink that he would let himself be persuaded to return her to Pomponia.
But Lygia shook her dark head in sadness. "No. In Aulus's house,Vinicius had been different, he had been very kind, but sinceyesterday's feast she feared him, and would rather flee to the Lygians."
"But in Aulus's house," inquired Acte, "he was dear to thee, was henot?"
"He was," answered Lygia, inclining her head.
"And thou wert not a slave, as I was," said Acte, after a moment'sthought. "Vinicius might marry thee. Thou art a hostage, and a daughterof the Lygian king. Aulus and Pomponia love thee as their own child; Iam sure that they are ready to adopt thee. Vinicius might marry thee,Lygia."
But Lygia answered calmly, and with still greater sadness, "I wouldrather flee to the Lygians."
"Lygia, dost thou wish me to go directly to Vinicius, rouse him, if heis sleeping, and tell him what I have told thee? Yes, my precious one, Iwill go to him and say, 'Vinicius, this is a king's daughter, and a dearchild of the famous Aulus;
if thou love her, return her to Aulus andPomponia, and take her as wife from their house.'"
But the maiden answered with a voice so low that Acte could barely hearit,--
"I would rather flee to the Lygians." And two tears were hanging on herdrooping lids.
Further conversation was stopped by the rustle of approaching steps, andbefore Acte had time to see who was coming, Poppaea Sabina appeared infront of the bench with a small retinue of slave women. Two of them heldover her head bunches of ostrich feathers fixed to golden wires; withthese they fanned her lightly, and at the same time protected her fromthe autumn sun, which was hot yet. Before her a woman from Egypt, blackas ebony, and with bosom swollen as if from milk, bore in her armsan infant wrapped in purple fringed with gold. Acte and Lygia rose,thinking that Poppaea would pass the bench without turning attention toeither; but she halted before them and said,--"Acte, the bells sent bythee for the doll were badly fastened; the child tore off one and put itto her mouth; luckily Lilith saw it in season."
"Pardon, divinity," answered Acte, crossing her arms on her breast andbending her head.
But Poppaea began to gaze at Lygia.
"What slave is this?" asked she, after a pause.
"She is not a slave, divine Augusta, but a foster child of PomponiaGraecina, and a daughter of the Lygian king given by him as hostage toRome."
"And has she come to visit thee?"
"No, Augusta. She is dwelling in the palace since the day beforeyesterday."
"Was she at the feast last night?"
"She was, Augusta."
"At whose command?"
"At Caesar's command."
Poppaea looked still more attentively at Lygia, who stood with bowedhead, now raising her bright eyes to her with curiosity, now coveringthem with their lids. Suddenly a frown appeared between the brows ofthe Augusta. Jealous of her own beauty and power, she lived in continualalarm lest at some time a fortunate rival might ruin her, as she hadruined Octavia. Hence every beautiful face in the palace roused hersuspicion. With the eye of a critic she took in at once every part ofLygia's form, estimated every detail of her face, and was frightened."That is simply a nymph," thought she, "and 'twas Venus who gave birthto her." On a sudden this came to her mind which had never come beforeat sight of any beauty,--that she herself had grown notably older!Wounded vanity quivered in Poppaea, alarm seized her, and various fearsshot through her head. "Perhaps Nero has not seen the girl, or, seeingher through the emerald, has not appreciated her. But what would happenshould he meet such a marvel in the daytime, in sunlight? Moreover sheis not a slave, she is the daughter of a king,--a king of barbarians,it is true, but a king. Immortal gods! she is as beautiful as I am, butyounger!" The wrinkle between her brows increased, and her eyes began toshine under their golden lashes with a cold gleam.
"Hast thou spoken with Caesar?"
"No, Augusta."
"Why dost thou choose to be here rather than in the house of Aulus?"
"I do not choose, lady. Petronius persuaded Caesar to take me fromPomponia. I am here against my will."
"And wouldst thou return to Pomponia?"
This last question Poppaea gave with a softer and milder voice; hence asudden hope rose in Lygia's heart.
"Lady," said she, extending her hand to her, "Caesar promised to giveme as a slave to Vinicius, but do thou intercede and return me toPomponia."
"Then Petronius persuaded Caesar to take thee from Aulus, and give theeto Vinicius?"
"True, lady. Vinicius is to send for me to-day, but thou art good, havecompassion on me." When she had said this, she inclined, and, seizingthe border of Poppaea's robe, waited for her word with beating heart.Poppaea looked at her for a while, with a face lighted by an evil smile,and said,--"Then I promise that thou wilt become the slave of Viniciusthis day." And she went on, beautiful as a vision, but evil. To the earsof Lygia and Acte came only the wail of the infant, which began to cry,it was unknown for what reason.
Lygia's eyes too were filled with tears; but after a while she tookActe's hand and said,--"Let us return. Help is to be looked for onlywhence it can come." And they returned to the atrium, which they did notleave till evening.
When darkness had come and slaves brought in tapers with great flames,both women were very pale. Their conversation failed every moment. Bothwere listening to hear if some one were coming. Lygia repeated again andagain that, though grieved to leave Acte, she preferred that all shouldtake place that day, as Ursus must be waiting in the dark for her then.But her breathing grew quicker from emotion, and louder. Acte collectedfeverishly such jewels as she could, and, fastening them in a cornerof Lygia's peplus, implored her not to reject that gift and means ofescape. At moments came a deep silence full of deceptions for the ear.It seemed to both that they heard at one time a whisper beyond thecurtain, at another the distant weeping of a child, at another thebarking of dogs.
Suddenly the curtain of the entrance moved without noise, and a tall,dark man, his face marked with small-pox, appeared like a spirit in theatrium. In one moment Lygia recognized Atacinus, a freedman of Vinicius,who had visited the house of Aulus.
Acte screamed; but Atacinus bent low and said,--"A greeting, divineLygia, from Marcus Vinicius, who awaits thee with a feast in his housewhich is decked in green."
The lips of the maiden grew pale.
"I go," said she.
Then she threw her arms around Acte's neck in farewell.