A CHRISTIAN BUT A ROMAN
by
MAURUS JOKAI
Doubleday & McClure Co.New York 1900
Copyright, 1900, byDoubleday & Mcclure Company
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By the Same Author
DEBTS OF HONOR,THE POOR PLUTOCRATS,A HUNGARIAN NABOB,THE NAMELESS CASTLE, ETC., ETC.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. 1CHAPTER II. 40CHAPTER III. 56CHAPTER IV. 66CHAPTER V. 80CHAPTER VI. 90CHAPTER VII. 96CHAPTER VIII. 104CHAPTER IX. 119CHAPTER X. 133CHAPTER XI. 149CHAPTER XII. 163
A CHRISTIAN BUT A ROMAN.
CHAPTER I.
In the days of the Caesars the country surrounding Rome vied insplendour and luxury with the capital itself. Throughout the wholeregion appeared the villas of Roman patricians, abodes of aristocraticcomfort, where every artist, from the sculptor to the--cook, had donehis utmost to render them attractive and beautiful.
These noble patricians, many of whom had incomes of eight or ninemillions, often found themselves in the unpleasant position of beingobliged to avoid Rome. Weariness, wounded vanity, insurrections of thepeople and the praetorians, but especially distrust of the Caesar,compelled them to turn their backs upon the imperial city and retireto their country estates.
Thus, for several years, Mesembrius Vio, the oldest Senator--who sincethe death of Probus had not set foot in Rome nor given the Senate aglimpse of him--had resided on his estate at the mouth of the Tiber.True, he said it was on account of the gout and the cataracts fromwhich his feet and his eyes suffered; and his visitors always foundhim sitting in his curule chair, with his ivory crutch in his hand anda broad green shade over his eyes.
The old man had two daughters. One, Glyceria, had married when veryyoung, thanks to the imperial favour, a great lord who had become alibertine; soon after the libertine lost his head, and his property,as well as the imperial favour, went to the beautiful widow, who in ashort time had the reputation of being the Aspasia of the Romancapital. Of course, Mesembrius was not only blind, but deaf, whenGlyceria was mentioned in his presence; he himself never permitted hername to cross his lips. His second daughter was Sophronia, who wasalways by the old man's side at his country estate. A beautiful andvirtuous maiden, she seemed to unite the charms of three Greekgoddesses: the graceful form of Venus, the noble beauty of Juno'scountenance, and the purity of Psyche.
Yet Sophronia owed no special gratitude to heathen goddesses; on theseashore nearby lived the wise Eusebius, the descendant of theapostle, and the beautiful girl had long attended the secret meetingswhere the holy man announced to the followers of Christ the doctrineof the one God who dwells in the soul.
Old Mesembrius knew that his favourite daughter was secretly aproselyte of the new faith, and he did not oppose it; nay, he did noteven let his daughter perceive that he had any idea of it.
Young sons of patrician families often came from Rome, lured by thefame of the maiden's beauty, and all cherishing the hope of obtainingher hand and with it her millions. Mesembrius received them verykindly, arranged great banquets in their honour, and brought out winea century old. The youths were soon intoxicated by the liquid fire,and after the last libation each one showed himself in his truecolours and poured forth the most secret thoughts in his heart.
Old Mesembrius listened and reflected. One unmasked himself as aprofligate; another was free from such tastes, but developed greattalent for being slave and despot in the same person; and even if an_omnibus numeris salutus_ was found, he showed, when the lastsubject--his opinion of Christianity--was introduced, like all therest, that it was his conviction that the Christian religion wasnothing more than a sect which denied the gods and, by withdrawingfrom the popular pleasures, games, and combats in the arena,embittered every joy by their obdurate melancholy and in their steadcelebrated horrible rites in gloomy caverns, compelled their followersto pierce with their knives the heart of an infant rolled in flour,and to drink its blood; till the gods, in their wrath, visited theearth with floods, pestilences, earthquakes, and barbarians, and thatconsequently there could not be enough of these people boiled in oil,burned in pitch, torn by wild beasts, and buried alive to avert fromthe land the severe punishments sent by the wrathful gods.
Mesembrius had heard enough, and gave his daughter to none of theseyouths. He honoured the martyrs, but did not wish to find Sophronia'sname among them.
Not one of the rejected suitors saw her face.
One day a sun-burned youth entered Mesembrius's dwelling. The old man,who sat in the trichinum of his summer-house, saw him, and, in spiteof the cataracts on his eyes, shouted:
"Are you coming to see me, Manlius Sinister? Come, come, here I am."
The old man could still see when he chose.
The youth hastened up to him, embraced him, and pressed his hand.
"How manly you have grown!" said Mesembrius, smiling; and, as if hiseyes were not enough, he felt with his hands the youth's face, arms,and shoulders. "You have become a man indeed since you marched awaywith Probus. So you've come to ask me for my daughter's hand?"
Manlius seemed disconcerted by this straightforward question.
"I am not so selfish, Mesembrius. Our ancient friendship brought me toyour house."
"I know, I know. We are aware of the kind of friendship which existsbetween an old man and a young one, especially when the old man has abeautiful daughter. For my daughter is very beautiful, Manlius, verybeautiful! If you could see her! Don't say that you saw her four yearsago--what was that? You were then a child, and so was she; what didyou know about it? But now! O Manlius! it would be a great mistake ofyours if you did not fall in love with her."
"What use would it be, old friend? You have refused so many suitorswho were better, richer, and more powerful than I that I do not evenventure to hope."
"Why, Manlius? Cannot you, too, gain power and wealth? Is not youruncle, worthy Quaterquartus, the most famous augur in Rome, whoseprophecies always prove true, who holds in his hands the future of theCaesar and the state?"
"That is all true."
"Then you see you may yet become a great man. You need only seek thefavour of Carinus a little, and win your uncle's good will. Surely itis easy?"
"At least it is not difficult."
"See! See! Who knows how far you may go? What will it cost Carinus tohave a rich old Senator drowned, and give you his palaces andtreasures? Then you, too, will own mansions and slaves, will bathe inrose-water and eat peacock's tongues. What bars your way? You can gainall these things, by cringing. Cringing, I say."
Manlius let the old man talk on.
"But stay with me as long as you feel inclined, and be of good cheer."
In the evening a magnificent banquet was served in honour of Manlius;everything that could please the palate, eye, and heart appeared.
The young man's face glowed with the fire of old Falernian wine, andhe often struck the table with his clenched fist, entirely forgettingthe respect due to his host.
Mesembrius saw that the soul of his guest was beginning to open and,propping his cheek upon his hand, he commenced the examination.
"Well, Manlius, how do you like the Falernian? Am I not right insaying that Italy is the bosom of the earth, for here are thebreasts--namely, the mountains which produce this wine?"
"Yet I have quaffed a more inspiring drink in my life-time."
"A more inspiring drink, Manlius? At whose table?"
"From the Euphrates."
"What do you mean?"
"It was after the battle of Ctesiphon. We had fought all day long, myarms were
dripping with blood and my brow with sweat. In the eveningthe Persian army was scattered, and on that one day the Euphratesoverflowed its banks."
"And you drank from it?"
"Yes. That water has an intoxicating effect."
"Fame intoxicated you, Manlius. It was in that water."
"I don't know what was in it; for when I raised my helmet, which I hadfilled with it, to my lips, I did not set it down until the last dropwas drained."
"And then other good things awaited you? You could indulge yourselvesto your heart's content in conquered Ctesiphon. I can imagine how wellyou fared with the beautiful dark-eyed women whose husbands wereobliged to abandon them, and the palaces and storehouses of which youtook possession. Every soldier was swimming in milk and honey."
"Well, we didn't do much of that sort of swimming, for we marchedfarther that very night; and as for the dark-eyed wives, all theleaders had issued strict orders that the captured women should not beinsulted by the soldiers."
"Well, well, such orders are not usually taken too strictly. We knowthat."
"By Hercules! Then you know very little about it!" exclaimed Manliusfuriously. "We took it so strictly that I had one of the soldiers inmy legion, who abducted a maiden, bound by the feet to two trees whichhad been bent down and tore him asunder when they sprang back again."
"Well, you won't tear me asunder on that account," laughed oldMesembrius, delighted with the noble indignation displayed by hisguest. He beckoned as he spoke to a Numidian slave who stood near,holding a richly engraved silver basin: "Come, Ramon, fill my guest'sgoblet."
"No," cried Manlius; "I can fill it myself. I need not be served likeCarinus, who is too indolent to hold his goblet when he drinks, and isafraid of wearying himself if he lifts a fig from the dish to his lipswith his own hands."
"Ho! ho! Manlius Sinister! You are slandering the Caesar!"
"_Aecastor!_ It is no slander. Is it not well known that his feet nevertouch the earth, and that, even in his bathroom, he uses awheel-chair? To-day he had a ring on his finger and, complaining thathe could not endure the burden of its weight, ordered it to be drawnoff. Recently he had a notorious forger of documents, who understandshow to imitate other people's writing marvellously well, releasedfrom prison, and appointed him his private secretary, to be sparedthe trouble of inscribing his signature with his own hand. Now thischeat provides every document with the Caesar's name."
"O Manlius! You are saying a great deal about Carinus, who was onceyour schoolmate."
"I have no inclination to boast of that. True, I often shared my breadwith him when he had none, and exchanged his tattered pallium formine, but I feel no desire that he should ever recognise me, since Imight easily fare like the rest of his schoolmates who appeared beforehim to remind him of former days, and whom Carinus unceremoniouslythrust into the 'Tower of Forgetfulness,' to rid himself of theuncomfortable feelings of the past."
"Ah! Manlius, you are talking like Seneca. You will never rise high inCarinus's favour in this way."
"When was that necessary for a free Roman?" cried the knight, raisinghis head proudly. "I have a sword and a brave heart; if these will notlead me to fame, I want no power which can be obtained by crawling inthe dust. It suits only dogs and libertines."
Mesembrius laughed and rubbed his hands in delight; then he urged theyouth to drink more, and the wine began to restore to the face trainedamid the corruption of Roman society to dissimulation, its realcharacter.
"Go on with your story, my good Manlius; we stopped at the battle ofCtesiphon. That is the enemy stopped there, while you went on as faras you could."
"With all due respect to your grey beard, Senator, never say to me: asfar as you could. For we might have gone to the Juxartes--there werenone who could have opposed us. The flying Persians vainly destroyedeverything before us: not even deserts and wildernesses can offerobstacles to the Roman legions; every soldier carried provisionsenough for ten days on his back. I ought to add that, during the wholedreary campaign, we slept on the frozen ground in the severest winterweather. The Persians convinced themselves that they could not checkour advance, and, when we reached a city whose barbarous name the godscannot expect a Roman tongue to utter, we encamped there. As twilightclosed in, the envoys of the Persian monarch--magnificently dressedmen with braided hair, rouged, with black eyebrows and fingers ladenwith rings--came and asked to be led before the Augustus: I meanCarus, don't confound him with Carinus. They were conducted into thepresence of a man who was sitting on the bare ground, with a yellowleather cap on his head, eating rancid bacon and raw beans. He hadthrown over his shoulders a coarse, shabby purple mantle, whichdistinguished him from the others."
"That was Carus; I recognise him," muttered the old Senator.
"The Augustus did not even permit the entrance of the envoys tointerrupt him in his meal, and while he was quietly crunching thebeans with his strong teeth, they delivered, with theatrical pathos,their carefully prepared speeches, whose glittering promises andhigh-sounding threats harmonised ill with the raw lupines which theCaesar was eating. When they finished at last, Carus took the yellowleather cap from his smooth bald head, and, pointing to it, said tothe ambassadors: 'Look here, and heed my words. If your king does notacknowledge the supremacy of Rome and restore her provinces, I'll makeyour country as bare as my head.'"
"I recognise Carus there, too."
"The envoys went off in great alarm, and the legions struck up thewar song, whose refrain is: _Mille, mille, mille occidit_."
"It was composed in honor of Carus, who is said to have killed in manya battle more than a thousand foes."
"Yes, yes, that's true."
"His son would kill ten times as many, but of his own subjects. Nevermind that, however. Go on, Manlius; tell me what else befell you.Every one has a different story about that whole campaign. One saysyou were attacked by the black legions, a second speaks of tumults, athird of miracles. This much is certain: instead of pressing onward,you suddenly turned back, although no one could resist you, you said."
"And it is true; men could no longer resist us, but is there nomightier power on earth?"
"Certainly; the Roman gods. But I hope you did not draw their wrathupon you, and that your augurs had favorable omens. Your uncle, theworld-renowned Quaterquartus, was with you."
"Yes, he was with us, and there was no lack of victims or of theentrails of beasts, and plenty of crows were caught."
"Manlius, you speak of these sacred things in a very profane way."
"I have every reason to do so. Our soldiers once captured a man cladpartly in skins who, according to his statement, had retired into thewilderness to mortify his body in honor of an invisible God. He hadbuilt a pillar of stones, on whose top he had already spent thirtywinters and summers, exposed to frost and scorching heat. There hestood all day long, with arms outstretched like a cross, bendingforward and striking his head against his knees. Several legionarieswere curious to learn the number of these bows, but when they hadcounted nineteen hundred they grew weary, dragged him from hispillar, and killed him."[1]
[Footnote 1: Simeon the Stylite.]
"And did you pity this Nazarene?"
"Let us speak lower, Mesembrius. It is dangerous to utter and to hearmy words. Do not think that I am intoxicated and invent this tale. Isaw this man breathe his last; for I came too late to save him. He didnot curse his murderers. An expression of supernatural bliss restedupon his face, he raised his eyes rapturously toward heaven, and diedblessing those who slew him. I drove them away and, to relieve hissuffering, gave him some cold water. He thanked me and, with his laststrength, whispered in my ear: 'Roman! do not cross the Tigris, forthere lies the Eden of the invisible God, who is not to be offended.'I repeated the warning to the Caesar's younger son, Numerian, who wasthe friend of every good soldier, and he carried it to the Augustus,who, struck by the ascetic's words, asked Quaterquartus to hold an_augurium_. My uncle's skill in announcing oracles which no one cancontradict is well kn
own."
"Your words are very bold, Sinister."
"Thus he once predicted to Probus that, after a thousand years, hisfamily would restore the ancient glory of Rome."
"After a thousand years!"
"At the end of a long mummery we learned from my uncle's mutteringlips that God would fight in the next battle."
"Without adding whether with or against us?"
"The Imperator ordered us to march forward and, on the very same day,we crossed the Tigris. At sunset several of the men who had killed themartyr Simeon Stylites were suddenly filled with horror and cried outloudly; for lo! he stood before them on a hilltop with armsoutstretched like a cross, while amid continual bowing he struck hisknees with his head. And I had helped to bury the lifeless form! Thenight was dark; clouds, rising from all directions, covered thehorizon; flashes of lightning darted to and fro in the distance as ifthey were fighting with one another. The pealing of thunder echoednearer and nearer, the world was veiled in gloom, sounds never heardbefore began to roar about us, and when a vivid flash of lightningseemed to cleave the depths of the firmament, we imagined that webeheld countless shining forms gazing down at us. It appeared to everylegion as though the other legions were engaged in a fierce, bloodyconflict, the clashing of swords and lances echoed around us, butthere was no fighting anywhere. In the darkness we thought that ourwhole army was transformed into a single vast, confused mass, in whichman fought against man, the mounted cohorts trampled down thefoot-soldiers, the tribunes rode at the head of the legions, and thetroops met in desperate, destructive shocks. Only while the lightningglared did we see the legions standing in motionless squares in theirplaces. Suddenly, amid a terrific peal of thunder, a quivering mass offire crashed down amid our ranks, shaking the earth beneath and theair around us. Horror made us fall upon our knees, every animal hidits head in the earth, and the fearful tumult roared into our ears thejudgment of a mighty God. When we ventured to look up again, a firewas blazing in the midst of our camp. The lightning had struck thetent of the Augustus. No one dared to extinguish it, though the Caesarand the statues of the protecting gods of the army were within itswalls. All were burned. Then who are the gods, if not they? OMesembrius, is it true that above us dwells an invisible Being, who isthe Lord of heaven and earth, and that the lifeless stone imageswhich we worship are not even able to defend themselves?"
Mesembrius pressed the youth's hand. He had heard enough.
"We will say no more about it, Manlius. You shrank from the power thatbarred your way. It was God! How did the army behave later?"
"The soldiers could not be induced to march forward; they walled upthe place where Carus Augustus was helplessly burned with theprotecting gods of Rome, and now there stands in the midst of thewilderness a building with neither doors nor windows, that no humanfoot may enter the spot which God has cursed. The troops choseNumerian for their commander, and demanded that he should lead themback to Illyria. I was commissioned to bear these tidings to Carinus;that is why I am here with you."
"I hope you will do this often. It is a great pleasure to be able tolive in Rome, is it not?"
"No pleasure to me; I would rather go back to my legions."
"Really? Then surely you have not yet seen Carinus' circus and themagnificent games which only Rome can offer; you have not visited thebaths of Antonius, the warm baths scented with the fragrance of rosesin walls adorned with gems--you have not yet found the woman you lovein Rome, eh?"
"I have seen all, without finding pleasure in it. What am I, abattle-scarred legionary, just from the rude land of Scythia, toadmire in the bloody fool's-play of your arenas? Here they make a gameof war; we make war a game. And I never cared for the thermae; warmbaths are only fit for _quirites_, not for soldiers. Blood can bewashed off with cold water; true, a polluted man needs warm."
"But you have not answered my third question. Have you found no fairwoman in Rome? Yet why do I ask? They will find you, even if you donot seek them. Oh, the Roman beauties are neither proud nor arrogant.When you have once appeared in the Forum, and they have seen yourstately, well-formed figure, I shall have to ask: Did they not dragyou away with them? Did they not tear you to pieces as the Bacchantesdid Orpheus?"
"Oho! Mesembrius, the falcon is not caught with lime-twigs."
"Go! go! Why should you be a falcon any more than the rest? As if thedoves of Venus had not built their nests in the helmet of Mars! Go!Dissimulation does not suit your face. You flushed crimson and loweredyour eyes. Why do you wish to deceive an old man like me? Or have themorals of Rome improved under the shadow of Carinus? And whileformerly, when one of the Vestal Virgins died, a substitute couldscarcely be found, have all who once worshipped Aphrodite becomepriestesses of Vesta?"
"I did not say so, Mesembrius."
"Then it is the other way. Come, don't deny that you have had aninteresting adventure. Five or six women surrounded you at once,laying their hearts and fortunes at your feet, and you chose thefairest, the one whose embraces were most ardent, whose kisses weremost glowing? Or you could not choose, and loved them all? One crownedyou with garlands in the evening, another in the morning; you vowedfidelity to one by the sun, to another by the moon, and loyally keptyour vow to every one? Very good, very noble! This is the joy ofyouth, Manlius! In my early years I was no better!"
"But, Mesembrius, you gave me no time to speak; all that you aresaying has nothing to do with me. I will frankly confess that duringmy one day's stay in Rome I had more to do with the slaves who weresent to me by their mistresses than with their husbands, to whom I hadbeen sent; but it is not my habit to attribute any special importanceto such matters. I am a member of the Manlius family, in which it isan ancient custom for the men to love only one woman, but faithfullyand forever--to mourn her constantly if she dies, to kill her if shebetrays him, and to avenge her if she is wronged."
"These are fine words, Manlius, but I see a ring glittering on yourfinger of a style which men do not wear; I suppose it belongs to thewoman you love."
"You are not mistaken in one thing. The ring belongs to a lady, and Iwear it solely on your account."
"Mine, Manlius? What is the ring to me?"
"When I left the Capitol yesterday evening a veiled matron slipped athin roll of manuscript into my hand and vanished swiftly among thecolonnades; the roll was passed through this ring. From curiosity Iopened the parchment and read the following mysterious words: 'ManliusSinister! You love a maiden whose father is your friend. This old manand his young daughter are threatened by a danger which, except by thegods and their foes, is known to me alone. If you wish to learn it,hasten to me. The bearer of this letter will wait for you at the _PonsSacer_, night and day, until you come. If you show her this ring, shewill lead you to me. Signed, A woman who has loved you from yourchildhood, and whom you have always scorned; who is hated by thosewhom she desires to save.'"
"This is a strange occurrence, Manlius."
"To me it is an incomprehensible mystery. Who has the power to lookinto the depths of my heart and read its feelings? Have my dreamsbetrayed me, that some one knows I love your daughter, whom I saw fouryears ago, and have been unable since to forget? And who can the womanbe who seeks to save another woman whose love shuts out her own?"
The old man's face darkened. The wine stood untouched a long timebefore the two who, during the conversation, had become perfectlysober. But their hearts, which the wine had opened, remained unveiled.
"Let me look at the ring more closely," said Mesembrius in a low tone.
Manlius held out his hand. The stone in the ring was a wonderfullycarved cameo--the white bust of a beautiful woman, with Greekfeatures, upon a purplish-yellow ground.
Mesembrius frowned gloomily as he examined the cameo; he averted hishead, again gazed fixedly at the ring, and at last with a gesture ofloathing, thrust it from him and bowed his gray head despairingly onhis breast.
"Why do you look so sad?" asked Manlius. "Do you know this ring? Doyou know its owner!"
r /> "I know her," replied the old man in a hollow tone.
"Speak, who is it?"
"Who is it?" repeated Mesembrius with flashing eyes. "Who is it? Ashameless hetaira, a loathsome courtesan, whose breath bringspestilence and contagion to the inhabitants of Rome, whose existenceis a blot upon the work of creation; who has been cursed by her fatherso many times that, if all his execrations were fulfilled, no grasswould grow upon the earth where she sets her foot, and compassionitself would turn from her in abhorrence."
The old man's last words were lost in a convulsive sob.
"Who is this woman?" cried Manlius, springing from his chair.
"This woman is my daughter," gasped Mesembrius.
"Glyceria?"
"_Abraxas!_" The old man fairly shouted the word used to ward offevil, and shuddered with loathing as he heard the name. Manlius drewthe ring from his finger and went to the window, beneath which flowedthe Tiber. Mesembrius guessed his intention.
"Don't throw it into the water! A fish might swallow it, the fishermencatch it, and it would again see the light of day. It will poison theTiber, and whoever drinks from it will go mad. Keep it. I have anidea, on account of which you must wear this ring. You said you haddone so until now for my sake."
"I kept it to save you, if need be."
"I thank you, Sinister. So you love me and my daughter. I thank youagain and again; we will be grateful. In return, I will give my age,she her youth. We have always held you dear, always regarded you asone of our family. If you wish to guard us from peril--keep thisring--go with it where you are led--seek her who sent it--and killher."
"Mesembrius! She is your daughter."
"If the basilisk is the child of the bird in whose nest it washatched."
"But she desires to shield you from some unknown danger."
"For me the world has no danger except she herself! What pestilence,earthquake, tempest, and scaffold mean to the dwellers upon earth, hername embodies to me! If I could approach her I would kill her."
"She wishes to save you."
"Do not believe her. Every word that falls from her lips is a lie; shehas deceived her father, she deceives the gods. Her face looks asinnocent as a sleeping babe's. When she speaks you are enchanted; ifyou should let her go on, she would draw the dagger from your hand,bewitch, ensnare you, melt your heart by her accursed magic arts tillyou were as cowardly as a scourged slave. She does not paint her facelike other women, but her soul; now she is luring you to her by thepretext that she wants to save me and Sophronia, and if you go to herand do not thrust your sword into her heart, ere she can speak oneword, she will persuade you to kill us."
"Mesembrius, what has she done to you that you speak of her thus?"
"What has she done? She buried me ere I was dead! She dragged my greybeard in the mire! She poisoned my heart, robbed me of my sight and myblood to paint obscene pictures with them upon the walls of thelenocinium."
"Fury blinds you, Mesembrius."
"Why should it not blind me? Has a Roman no right to curse when peoplesay to him in the Forum: 'Dismount from your horse, for your daughterhas lost her honour!' Can I show myself anywhere in Rome withoutwitnessing my disgrace? Is not her name prostituted in all theshameless verses of an Aevius and Mavius? Did she not appear in theamphitheatre in a pantomime before the exulting, roaring populace?Does she not go in broad daylight, with her shameless train, clad in a_tunica vitrea_ or _ventus textilis_? Does she not allow herself to bepainted as _Venus vulgivava_? And is there an orgy, a bacchanalianfestival, in which she does not play the loathsome part of queen? Oh,Manlius, it is terrible when the hair is grey to be unable to look menin the face, to hear everywhere and be forced to read in the eyes ofall: 'This is Mesembrius who corrupts Rome! This man gave life to themonster who daily consumes the bread and drinks the blood of ahundred thousand starving people. Let us beware of approaching him.'Oh, Manlius, believe me, you will yet kill this woman."
"I have never killed a woman, and I never shall."
"Remember my words. This Megaera loves you, and she knows full wellthat you love another. That this other is her sister will not troubleher; these satiated Messalinas are fastidious, even in blood. Ordinaryblood no longer tickles their palates; that of their own kindred issweetest."
"Guard your tongue from omens!"
"I feel what I say, Manlius. It would be better for you to slay thiswoman from caution than for vengeance. When you see a serpent, youcrush it, do you not, without waiting till it strikes its fangs intoyour flesh, and gives you reason to destroy it?"
"You are a father, Mesembrius. I understand your grief, but do notshare it."
"You will become a husband, and then you will share it."
"How can you expect me to hate, old friend, after you have rendered mehappy? You talk of your wrath to a sleeper dreaming of his bliss,while your furious words disturb the stillness of the night. From allyou say I realize only that I shall possess Sophronia's love. Thisword, this thought inspirited me, even when the war cries of thefierce Sarmatians were thundering in my ears, even during thenocturnal attacks of the legions, and in the scorching sunshine ofPersian battle-fields. I beheld her lovely face in the river which,swollen by streams of blood, overflowed its banks. It hovers before menow while you talk of blood, and amid your savage speech I hear butone thing--that she will be mine."
"Now I perceive the truth of the words that love makes us blind."
"And hate reckless, you must add."
"May the gods grant that you are right; that some day the whole worldmay say: 'Mesembrius, the daughter whom you disowned is pure as Diana,and all you said of her was slander, blind imagination!' I--but eventhen I would say that you must kill her, Manlius, for she has deceivedthe whole world!"
The old man's eyes were bloodshot; excitement had so wrought upon hiswhole nervous system that he trembled from head to foot, and when herose from the triclinium he gripped the arm with such force that theivory sphinx remained in his hand.
"Slaves, bring torches!" he shouted loudly, forgetting that he usuallyspoke with asthmatic panting. "Let us go to rest, Manlius; it is longpast midnight. May you dream of your love as I shall of my hate."
He left the pavilion as he spoke, and moved firmly, with head erect,through the long garden to his villa, without remembering that hecould not walk a step on account of his gout. The slaves pushed hisempty chair behind him.
Manlius remained a long time in the triclinium, lost in thought.Leaning over the sill of the window above the Tiber he gazed dreamilyinto the waves, flooded with silver by the rising moon. Black boatsglittered in her rays along the shore, and the notes of a mournfulhymn echoed from the distance through the still air. The outlines of awoman's white-robed figure were visible in one of the boats. Manliuswas reflecting upon the emotions that filled his heart. He fancied hewas dreaming, as we sometimes dream that we are awake, and nowimagined that he was dreaming of Sophronia's gentle, musing face.
He had no rest; some indescribable feeling oppressed his heart. Hisexcited soul longed for the open air, and, taking his sword, hewrapped his _paludamentum_ around him, entered one of the skiffsfastened under the window, and, loosing it from the chain, rowed inthe direction of the mysterious melody.