CHAPTER IV.
JUBA.
There was more of heart, less of effort, less of mechanical habit, inAgellius's prayers that night, than there had been for a long whilebefore. He got up, struck a light, and communicated it to his smallearthen lamp. Its pale rays feebly searched the room and discovered at theother end of it Juba, who had silently opened the door, and sat down nearit, while his brother was employed upon his devotions. The countenance ofthe latter fell, for he was not to go to sleep with the resignation andpeace which had just before been poured into his breast. Yet why should hecomplain? we receive consolation in this world for the very purpose ofpreparing us against trouble to come. Juba was a tall, swarthy,wild-looking youth. He was holding his head on one side as he sat, and hisface towards the roof; he nodded obliquely, arched his eyebrows, pursed uphis lips, and crossed his arms, while he gave utterance to a strange,half-whispered laugh.
"He, he, he!" he cried; "so you are on your knees, Agellius."
"Why shouldn't I be at this hour," answered Agellius, "and before I go tobed?"
"O, every one to his taste, of course," said Juba; "but to an unprejudicedmind there is something unworthy in the act."
"Why, Juba?" said his brother somewhat sharply; "don't you profess anyreligion at all?"
"Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't," answered Juba; "but never shall it bea bowing and scraping, crawling and cringing religion. You may take youroath of that."
"What ails you to come here at this time of night?" asked Agellius; "whoasked for your company?"
"I will come just when I please," said the other, "and go when I please. Iwon't give an account of my actions to any one, God or man, devil orpriest, much less to you. What right have you to ask me?"
"Then," said Agellius, "you'll never get peace or comfort as long as youlive, that I can tell you, let alone the life to come."
Juba kept silent for awhile, and bit his nails with a smile on his face,and his eyes looking askance upon the ground. "I want no more than I have;I am well content," he said.
"Contented with yourself," retorted Agellius.
"Of course," Juba replied; "whom ought one to wish rather to content?"
"I suppose, your Creator."
"Creator," answered Juba, tossing back his head with an air ofsuperiority; "Creator;--that, I consider, is an assumption."
"O, my dear brother," cried Agellius, "don't go on in that dreadful way!"
" 'Go on!' who began? Is one man to lay down the law, and not the othertoo? Is it so generally received, this belief of a Creator? Who havebrought in the belief? The Christians. 'Tis the Christians that began it.The world went on very well without it before their rise. And now, whobegan the dispute but you?"
"Well, if I did," answered Agellius; "but I didn't. You began in cominghere; what in the world are you come for? by what right do you disturb meat this hour?"
There was no appearance of anger in Juba; he seemed as free from feelingof every kind, from what is called _heart_, as if he had been a stone. Inanswer to his brother's question, he quietly said, "I have been downthere," pointing in the direction of the woods.
An expression of sharp anguish passed over his brother's face, and for amoment he was silent. At length he said, "You don't mean to say you havebeen down to poor mother?"
"I do," said Juba.
There was again a silence for a little while; then Agellius renewed theconversation. "You have fallen off sadly, Juba, in the course of the lastseveral years."
Juba tossed his head, and crossed his legs.
"At one time I thought you would have been baptized," his brothercontinued.
"That was my weakness," answered Juba; "it was a weak moment: it was justafter the old bishop's death. He had been kind to me as a child; and hesaid some womanish words to me, and it was excusable in me."
"Oh that you had yielded to your wish!" cried Agellius.
Juba looked superior. "The fit passed," he said. "I have come to a justerview of things. It is not every one who has the strength of mind. Iconsider that a logical head comes to a very different conclusion;" and hebegan wagging his own, to the right and left, as if it were coming to agreat many.
"Well," said Agellius, gaping, and desiring at least to come to aconclusion of the altercation, "what brings you here so late?"
"I was on my way to Jucundus," he answered, "and have been delayed by theSuccoth-benoth in the grove across the river."
Here they were thrown back upon their controversy. Agellius turned quitewhite. "My poor fellow," he said, "what were you there for?"
"To see the world," answered Juba; "it's unmanly not to see it. Whyshouldn't I see it? It was good fun. I despise them all, fools and idiots.There they were, scampering about, or lying like hogs, all in liquor. Apesand swine! However, I will do as others do, if I please. I will be asdrunk as they, when I see good. I am my own master, and it would be nokind of harm."
"No harm! why, is it no harm to become an ape or a hog?"
"You don't take just views of human nature," answered Juba, with aself-satisfied air. "Our first duty is to seek our own happiness. If a manthinks it happier to be a hog, why, let him be a hog," and he laughed."This is where you are narrow-minded. I shall seek my own happiness, andtry this way, if I please."
"Happiness!" cried Agellius; "where have you been picking up all thisstuff? Can you call such detestable filth happiness?"
"What do you know about such matters?" asked Juba. "Did you ever see them?Did you ever try them? You would be twice the man you are if you had. Youwill not be a man till you do. You are carried off your legs in your ownway. I'd rather get drunk every day than fall down on all fours as you do,crawling on your stomach like a worm, and whining like a hound that hasbeen beaten."
"Now, as I live, you shan't stop here one instant longer!" cried outAgellius, starting up. "Be off with you! get away! what do you come hereto blaspheme for? who wants you? who asked for you? Go! go, I say! takeyourself off! Why don't you go? Keep your ribaldry for others."
"I am as good as you any day," said Juba.
"I don't set myself up," answered Agellius, "but it's impossible toconfound Christian and unbeliever as you do."
"Christian and unbeliever!" said Juba, slowly. "I suppose, when they area-courting each other, they _are_ confounded." He looked hard at Agellius,as if he thought he had hit a blot. Then he continued, "If I _were_ aChristian, I'd be so in earnest: else I'd be an honest heathen."
Agellius coloured somewhat, and sat down, as if under embarrassment.
"I despise you," said Juba; "you have not the pluck to be a Christian. Beconsistent, and fizz upon a stake; but you're not made of that stuff.You're even afraid of uncle. Nay, you can be caught by those paintedwares, about which, when it suits your purpose, you can be so grave. Idespise you," he continued, "I despise you, and the whole kit of you.What's the difference between you and another? Your people say, 'Earth's avanity, life's a dream, riches a deceit, pleasure a snare. Fratrescharissimi, the time is short;' but who love earth and life and riches andpleasure better than they? You are all of you as fond of the world, as setupon gain, as chary of reputation, as ambitious of power, as the jolly oldheathen, who, you say, is going the way of the pit."
"It is one thing to have a conscience," answered Agellius; "another thingto act upon it. The conscience of these poor people is darkened. You had aconscience once."
"Conscience, conscience," said Juba. "Yes, certainly, once I had aconscience. Yes, and once I had a bad chill, and went about chattering andshivering; and once I had a game leg, and then I went limping; and so, yousee, I once on a time had a conscience. O yes, I have had many consciencesbefore now--white, black, yellow, and green; they were all bad; but theyare all gone, and now I have none."
Agellius said nothing; his one wish, as may be supposed, was to get rid ofso unwelcome a visitor.
"The truth is," continued Juba, with the air of a teacher--"the truth is,
that religion was a fashion with me, which is now gone by. It was thecomplexion of a particular stage of my life. I was neither the better northe worse for it. It was an accident, like the bloom on my face, whichsoon," he said, spreading his fingers over his dirty-coloured cheeks, andstroking them, "which soon will disappear. I acted according to thefeeling, while it lasted; but I can no more recall it than my first teeth,or the down on my chin. It's among the things that were."
Agellius still keeping silence from weariness and disgust, he looked athim in a significant way, and said, slowly, "I see how it is; I havepenetration enough to perceive that you don't believe a bit more aboutreligion than I do."
"You must not say that under my roof," cried Agellius, feeling he must notlet his brother's charge pass without a protest. "Many are my sins, butunbelief is not one of them."
Juba tossed his head. "I think I can see through a stone slab as well asany one," he said. "It is as I have said; but you're too proud to confessit. It's part of your hypocrisy."
"Well," said Agellius coldly, "let's have done. It's getting late, Juba;you'll be missed at home. Jucundus will be inquiring for you, and some ofthose revelling friends of yours may do you a mischief by the way. Why, mygood fellow," he continued, in surprise, "you have no leggings. Thescorpions will catch hold of you to a certainty in the dark. Come, let metie some straw wisps about you."
"No fear of scorpions for me," answered Juba; "I have some real goodamulets for the occasion, which even _boola-kog_ and _uffah_ willrespect."
Saying this, he passed out of the room as unceremoniously as he hadentered it, and took the direction of the city, talking to himself, andsinging snatches of wild airs as he went along, throwing back and shakinghis head, and now and then uttering a sharp internal laugh. Disdaining tofollow the ordinary path, he dived down into the thick and wet grass, andscrambled through the ravine, which the public road crossed before itascended the hill. Meanwhile he accompanied his quickened pace with alouder strain, and it ran as follows:--
"The little black Moor is the mate for me, When the night is dark, and the earth is free, Under the limbs of the broad yew-tree.
"'Twas Father Cham that planted that yew, And he fed it fat with the bloody dew Of a score of brats, as his lineage grew.
"Footing and flaunting it, all in the night, Each lock flings fire, each heel strikes light; No lamps need they, whose breath is bright."
Here he was interrupted by a sudden growl, which sounded almost under hisfeet, and some wild animal was seen to slink away. Juba showed nosurprise; he had taken out a small metal idol, and whispering some wordsto it, had presented it to the animal. He clambered up the bank, gainedthe city gate, and made his way for his uncle's dwelling, which was nearthe temple of Astarte.
Callista : a Tale of the Third Century Page 6
