CHAPTER VI
THE WORSHIP OF ISIS
It was the cool and calming hour of sunset. Esca was strolling quietlyhomewards after the pursuits of the day. He had emptied a wineskin withHirpinus; and, resisting that worthy's entreaties to mark so auspicious ameeting by a debauch, had accompanied him to the gymnasium, where theBriton's magnificent strength and prowess raised him higher than ever inthe opinion of the experienced athlete. Untiring as were the trainedmuscles of the professional, he found himself unable to cope with thebarbarian in such exercises as demanded chiefly untaught physical powerand length of limb. In running, leaping, and wrestling, Esca was more thana match for the gladiator. In hurling the quoit, and fencing with woodenfoils, the latter's constant practice gave him the advantage, and when hefastened round his wrists and hands the leathern thong or _cestus_, usedfor the same purpose as our modern boxing-glove, and proposed a round ortwo of that manly exercise to conclude with, he little doubted that hisown science and experience would afford him an easy victory. The result,however, was far different from his expectations. His antagonist's powerswere especially adapted to this particular kind of contest; his length oflimb, his quickness of eye, hand, and foot, his youthful elasticity ofmuscle, and his unfailing wind, rendered him an invincible combatant, andit was with something like pique that Hirpinus was compelled to confess asmuch to himself.
At the end of the first round he was satisfied of his mistake inunderrating so formidable an opponent. Ere the second was half through, hehad exhausted all the resources of his own skill without gaining theslightest advantage over his antagonist; and with the conclusion of athird, he flung away the _cestus_ in well-feigned disgust at the heat ofthe weather, and proposed one more skin of wine before parting, to drinksuccess to the profession, and speedy employment for the gladiators at theapproaching games in the amphitheatre.
"Join us, man!" said Hirpinus, dropping something of the patronising airhe had before affected. "Thou wert born to be a swordsman. Hippias wouldteach thee in a week to hold thine own against the best fencers in Rome. Imyself will look to thy food, thy training, and thy private practice. Thouwouldst gain thy liberty easily, after a few victories. Think it over,man! and when thou hast decided, come to the fencing-school yonder, andask for old Hirpinus. The steel may have a speck of rust on it, but it'stough and true still; so fare thee well, lad. I count to hear from theeagain before long!"
The gladiator accordingly rolled off with more than his usual assumptionof manly independence, attributable to the measure of rough Sabine wine ofwhich he had drunk his full share, whilst the Briton walked quietly awayin the direction of his home, enjoying the cool breeze that fanned hisbrow, and following out a train of vague and complicated reflections,originating in the advice of his late companion.
The crimson glow of a summer evening had faded into the serene beauty of asummer night. Stars were flashing out, one by one, with mellow lustre, notglimmering faintly, as in our northern climate, but hanging like silverlamps, in the infinity of the sky. The busy turmoil of the streets hadsubsided to a low and drowsy hum; the few chance passengers who stillpaced them, went softly and at leisure, as though enjoying the soothinginfluence of the hour. Even here, in the great city, everything seemed tobreathe of peace, and contentment, and repose. Esca walked slowly on, lostin meditation.
Suddenly, the clash of cymbals and the sound of voices struck upon hisear. A wild and fitful melody, rising and falling with strange thrillingcadence, was borne upon the breeze. Even while he stopped to listen, itswelled into a full harmonious chorus, and he recognised the chant of theworshippers of Isis, returning from the unholy celebration of her rites.Soon the glare of torches heralded its approach, and the tumultuousprocession wound round the corner of the street with all the strangegrotesque ceremonies of their order. Clashing their cymbals, dashing theirtorches together till the sparks flew up in showers, tossing their barearms aloft with frantic gestures, the smooth-faced priests, having girttheir linen garments tightly round their loins, were dancing to and frobefore the image of the goddess with bacchanalian energy. Some werebareheaded, some crowned with garlands of the lotus-leaf, and some woremasks representing the heads of dogs and other animals; but all, thoughleaping wildly here and there, danced in the same step, all used the samemysterious gestures of which the meaning was only known to the initiated.The figure of the goddess herself was borne aloft on the shoulders of twosturdy priests, fat, oily, smooth, and sensual, with the odious look oftheir kind. It represented a stately woman crowned with the lotus, holdinga four-barred lyre in her hand. Gold and silver tinsel was freelyscattered over her flowing garments, and jewels of considerable value, thegifts of unusually fervent devotees, might be observed upon her bosom andaround her neck and arms. Behind her were carried the different symbols bywhich her qualities were supposed to be typified; amongst these an imageof the sacred cow, wrought in frosted silver with horns and hoofs of gold,showed the most conspicuous, borne aloft as it was by an acolyte in thewildest stage of inebriety, and wavering, with the uncertain movements ofits bearer, over the heads of the throng. In the van moved the priests,bloated eunuchs clad in white; behind these came the sacred images carriedby younger votaries, who, aspiring to the sacerdotal office, and alreadyprepared for its functions, devoted themselves assiduously in the meantimeto the orgies with which it was their custom to celebrate the worship oftheir deity. Maddened with wine, bare-limbed and with dishevelled locks,they danced frantically to and fro, darting at intervals from their ranks,and compelling the passengers whom they met to turn behind them, and helpto swell the rear of the procession. This was formed of a motley crew.Rich and poor, old and young, the proud patrician and the squalid slave,were mingled together in turbulent confusion; it was difficult todistinguish those who formed a part of the original pageant from theidlers who had attached themselves to it, and, having caught thecontagious excitement, vociferated as loudly, and leaped about as wildly,as the initiated themselves. Amongst these might be seen some of thefairest and proudest faces in Rome. Noble matrons reared in luxury, underthe very busts of those illustrious ancestors who had been counsellors ofkings, defenders of the commonwealth, senators of the empire, thought itno shame to be seen reeling about the public streets, unveiled and flushedwith wine, in the company of the most notorious and profligate of theirsex. A multitude of torches shed their glare on the upturned faces of thethrong, and on one that looked, with its scornful lips and defiant brow,to have no business there.
Amongst the wildest of these revellers, Valeria's haughty head moved on,towering above the companions, with whom she seemed to have nothing incommon, save a fierce determination to set modesty and propriety atdefiance. Esca caught her glance as she swept by. She blushed crimson, heobserved even in the torchlight, and seemed for an instant to shrinkbehind the portly form of a priest who marched at her side; but,immediately recovering herself, moved on with a gradually paling cheek,and a haughtier step than before.
He had little leisure, however, to observe the scornful beauty, whosecharms, to tell the truth, had made no slight impression on hisimagination; for a disturbance at its head, which had now passed him somedistance, had stopped the progress of the whole procession, and no smallconfusion was the result. The torch-bearers were hurrying to the front.The silver cow had fallen and been replaced in an upright position morethan once. The goddess herself had nearly shared the same fate. The sacredchant had ceased, and instead a hundred tongues were vociferating at once,some in anger, some in expostulation, some in maudlin ribaldry and mirth."Let her go!" cried one. "Hold her fast!" shouted another. "Bring heralong with you!" reasoned a drunken acolyte. "If she be worthy she willconform to the worship of the goddess. If she be unworthy she shallexperience the divine wrath of Isis!" "Mind what you are about,"interposed a more cautious votary. "She is a Roman maiden," said one."She's a barbarian!" shrieked another. "A Mede!" "A Spaniard!" "APersian!" "A Jewess! A Jewess!"
In th
e meantime the unfortunate cause of all this turmoil, a young girlclosely veiled and dressed in black, was struggling in the arms of a largeunwieldy eunuch, who had seized her as a hawk pounces on a pigeon, anddespite her agonised entreaties, for the poor thing was in mortal fear,held her ruthlessly in his grasp. She had been surrounded by the lawlessband, ere she was aware, as she glided quietly round the street corner, onher homeward way, had shrunk up against the wall in the desperate hopethat she might remain unobserved or unmolested, and found herself, as wasto be expected, an immediate object of insult to the dissolute andlicentious crew. Though her dress was torn and her arms bruised from theunmanly violence to which she was subjected, with true feminine modestyshe kept her veil closely drawn round her face, and resisted every effortfor its removal, with a firm strength of which those slender wrists seemedhardly capable. As the eunuch grasped her with drunken violence, bendinghis huge body and bloated face over the shrinking figure of the girl, shecould not suppress one piercing shriek for help, though, even while itleft her lips, she felt how futile it must be, and how utterly hopelesswas her situation. It was echoed by a hundred voices in tones of mockeryand derision.
Little did Spado, for such was the eunuch's name, little did Spado thinkhow near was the aid for which his victim called; how sudden would be thereprisals that should astonish himself with their prompt and completeredress, reminding him of what he had long forgotten, the strength of aman's blow, and the weight of a man's arm. At the first sound of thegirl's voice, Esca had forced his way through the crowd to her assistance.In three strides he had come up with her assailant, and laid his heavygrasp on Spado's fat shoulder, while he bade him in low determined accentsto release his prey. The eunuch smiled insolently, and replied with abrutal jest.
Valeria, interested in spite of herself, could not resist an impulse topress forward and see what was going on. Long afterwards she delighted torecall the scene she now beheld with far more of exultation and excitementthan alarm. It had, indeed, especial attraction for an imagination likehers. Standing out in the red glare of the torches, like the bronze statueof some demigod starting into life, towered the tall figure of Esca,defiance in his attitude, anger on his brow, and resistless strength inthe quivering outline of each sculptured limb. Within arm's length of him,the obese, ungraceful shape of Spado, with his broad fat face, expressivechiefly of gluttony and sensual enjoyment, but wearing now an ugly look ofmalice and apprehension. Starting back from his odious embrace to theutmost length of her outstretched arms, the veiled form of the frightenedgirl, her head turned from the eunuch, her hands pressed against hischest, every line of her figure denoting the extreme of horror, andaversion, and disgust. Round the three, a shifting mass of grinning faces,and tossing arms, and wild bacchanalian gestures; the whole rendered moregrotesque and unnatural by the lurid, flickering light. With anunaccountable fascination Valeria watched for the result.
"Let her go!" repeated Esca, in the distinct accents with which a manspeaks who is about to strike, tightening at the same time a gripe whichwent into the eunuch's soft flesh like iron.
Spado howled in mingled rage and fear, but released the girl nevertheless,who cowered instinctively close to her protector.
"Help!" shouted the eunuch, looking round for assistance from hiscomrades. "Help! I say. Will ye see the priest mishandled and the goddessreviled? Down with him! down with him, comrades, and keep him down!"
There is little doubt that had Esca's head once touched the ground it hadnever risen again, for the priests were crowding about him with wild yellsand savage eyes, and the fierce revelry of a while ago was fast warminginto a thirst for blood. Valeria thrust her way into the circle, thoughshe never feared for the Briton--not for an instant.
It was getting dangerous, though, to remain any longer amongst thisfrantic crew. Esca wound one arm round the girl's waist and opposed theother shoulder to the throng. Spado, encouraged by his comrades, struckwildly at the Briton, and made a furious effort to recover his prey. Escadrew himself together like a panther about to spring, then his long sinewyarm flew out with the force and impulse of a catapult, and the eunuch,reeling backwards, fell heavily to the ground, with a gash upon his cheeklike the wound inflicted by a sword.
"_Euge!_" exclaimed Valeria, in a thrill of admiration and delight. "Wellstruck, by Hercules! Ah! these barbarians have at least the free use oftheir limbs. Why, the priest went down like a white ox at the Mucian Gate.Is he much hurt, think ye? Will he rise again?"
The last sentence was addressed to the throng who now crowded round theprostrate Spado, and was but the result of that pity which is never quitedormant in a woman's breast. The fallen eunuch seemed indeed in no hurryto get upon his legs again. He rolled about in hideous discomfiture, andgave vent to his feelings in loud and pitiful moans and lamentations.
After such an example of the Briton's prowess, none of her other votariesseemed to think it incumbent on them to vindicate the majesty of thegoddess by further interference with the maiden and her protector.Supporting and almost carrying her drooping form, Esca hurried her awaywith swift firm strides, pausing and looking back at intervals, as thoughloth to leave his work half finished, and by no means unwilling to renewthe contest. The last Valeria saw of him was the turn of his noble headbending down with a courteous and protecting gesture, to console andreassure his frightened charge. All her womanly instincts revolted at thatmoment from the odious throng with whom she was involved. She could havefound it in her heart to envy that obscure and unknown girl hurrying awayyonder through the darkening streets on the arm of her powerfulprotector--could have wished herself a peasant or a slave, with some onebeing in the world to look up to, and to love.
Valeria's life had been that of a spoiled child from the day she left hercradle--that gilded cradle over which the nurses had repeated theircustomary Roman blessing with an emphasis that in her case seemed to beprophetic--
"May monarchs woo thee, darling! to their bed, And roses blossom where thy footsteps tread!"
The metaphorical flowers of wealth, prosperity, and admiration, did indeedseem to spring up beneath her feet, and her stately beauty would have doneno discredit to an imperial bride; but it must have been something morethan outward pomp and show--something nobler than the purple and thediadem--that could have won its way to Valeria's heart.
She was habituated to the beautiful, the costly, the refined, till she hadlearned to consider such qualities as the mere essentials of life. Itseemed to her a simple matter of course that houses should be noble, andchariots luxurious, and horses swift, and men brave. The _nil admirari_was the maxim of the class in which she lived; and whilst their standardwas thus placed at the superlative, that which came up to it received nocredit for excellence, that which fell short was treated with disapprovaland contempt. Valeria's life had been one constant round of pleasure andamusement; yet she was not happy, not even contented. Day by day she feltthe want of some fresh interest, some fresh excitement; and it was thiscraving probably, more than innate depravity, which drove her, in commonwith many of her companions, into such disgraceful scenes as were enactedat the worship of Juno, Isis, and the other gods and goddesses ofmythology.
Lovers, it is needless to say, Valeria had won in plenty. Each new facepossessed for her but the attraction of its novelty. The favourite of thehour had small cause to plume himself on his position. For the first weekhe interested her curiosity, for the second he pleased her fancy, afterwhich, if he was wise, he took his leave gracefully, ere he was bidden todo so with a frankness that admitted of no misconception. Perhaps the onlyperson in the world whom she respected was her kinsman Licinius; and this,none the less, that she possessed no kind of influence over his feelingsor his opinions; that she well knew he viewed her proceedings often withdisapprobation, and entertained for her character a kindly pity not farremoved from contempt. Even Julius Placidus, who was the most persevering,as he was the craftiest, of her adorers, had made no impression on herheart. She appreciated his intellect, she wa
s amused with hisconversation, she approved of his deep schemes, his lavish extravagance,his unprincipled recklessness; but she never thought of him for an instantafter he was out of her sight, and there was something in the cold-bloodedferocity of his character from which, even in his presence, sheunconsciously recoiled. Perhaps she admired the person of Hippias, herfencing-master, a retired gladiator, who combined handsome regularity offeatures with a certain worn and warlike air, not without its charm, morethan that of any man whom she had yet seen, and with all her pride and hercold exterior, Valeria was a woman to be captivated by the eye; butHippias, from his professional reputation, was the darling of half thematrons in Rome, and it may be that she only followed the example of herfriends, with whom, at this period of the Empire, it was considered aproof of the highest fashion, and the best taste, to be in love with agladiator.
Strong in her passions, as in her physical organisation, the former wereonly bridled by an unbending pride, and an intensity of will more thanmasculine in its resolution. As under that smooth skin the muscles of theround white arm were firm and hard like marble, so beneath that fair andtranquil bosom there beat a heart that for good or evil could dare,endure, and defy the worst. Valeria was a woman whom none but a very boldor very ignorant suitor would have taken to his breast; yet it may be thatthe right man could have tamed, and made her gentle and patient as thedove. And now something seemed to tell her that the void in her heart wasfilled at last. Esca's manly beauty had made a strong impression on hersenses; the anomaly of his position had captivated her imagination; therewas something very attractive in the mystery that surrounded him; therewas even a wild thrill of pleasure in the shame of loving a slave. Then,when he stood forth, the champion of that poor helpless girl, brave,handsome, and victorious, the charm was complete; and Valeria's eyesfollowed him as he disappeared with a longing loving look, that had neverglistened in them in her life before.
The Briton hurried away with his arm round the drooping figure of hiscompanion, and for a time forbore to speak a word even of encouragement orconsolation. At first the reaction of her feelings turned her sick andfaint, then a burst of weeping came to her relief; ere long the tears wereflowing silently; and the girl, who indeed showed no lack of courage, hadrecovered herself sufficiently to look up in her protector's face, andpour out her thanks with a quiet earnestness that showed they came directfrom the heart.
"I can trust you," she said, in a voice of peculiar sweetness, though herLatin, like his own, was touched with a slightly foreign accent. "I canread a brave man's face--none better. We have not far to go now. You willtake me safe home?"
"I will guard you to your very door," said he, in tones of the deepestrespect. "But you need fear nothing now; the drunken priests and theirmysterious deity are far enough off by this time. 'Tis a noble worship,truly, for such a city as this--the mistress of the world!"
"False gods! false gods!" replied the girl, very earnestly. "Oh! how canmen be so blind, so degraded?" Here she stopped suddenly, and clung closerto her companion's arm, drawing her veil tighter round her face the while.Her quick ear had caught the sound of hurrying footsteps, and she dreadedpursuit.
"'Tis nothing," said Esca, encouraging her; "the most we have to dread nowis some drunken freedman or client reeling home from his patron's supper-table. They are a weakly race, these Roman citizens," he added good-humouredly; "I think I can promise to stave them off if they come not morethan a dozen at a time."
The cheerful tone reassured her no less than the strong arm to which sheclung. It was delightful to feel so safe after the fright she hadundergone. The footsteps were indeed those of a few dissolute idlersloitering home after a debauch. They had hastened forward on espying afemale figure; but there was something in the air of her protector thatforbade a near approach, and they shrank to the other side of the wayrather than come in contact with so powerful an opponent. The girl feltproud of her escort, and safer every minute. By this time she had guidedhim into a dark and narrow street, at the end of which the Tiber might beseen gleaming under the starlit sky. She stopped at a mean-looking door,let into a dead-wall, and applying her hand to a secret spring, it openednoiselessly to her touch. Then she turned to face her companion, and saidfrankly, "I have not thanked you half enough. Will you not enter our poordwelling, and share with us a morsel of food and a cup of wine, ere youdepart upon your way?"
Esca was neither hungry nor thirsty, yet he bowed his head, and followedher into the house.