CHAPTER XIV.
On a purple couch, her right hand supporting her handsome head, whileher left played mechanically with the folds of her robe, lay theEmpress Domitia; Polycharma, her favorite slave, sat in silence onthe floor, holding in her lap a red and blue bird, which now and thenflapped its wings and gave a loud, strange cry. All else was silent,oppressed by sultry gloom and the steamy stillness of the air. Inspite of its nearness, the noise of the Forum was dulled to a murmurlike that of wind-rocked trees. The marble statue of Venus[281] by thedoor-way looked sleepily down under her drooping lids; even the littleEros with his lightly-tilted jar, seemed touched with melancholy.Outside, in the corridors and antechambers, there was scarcely a sound.The slaves glided cautiously about on tiptoe, and spoke in whispers orexpressed themselves by signs. Their imperial mistress's melancholymood seemed to fill the very atmosphere with a subtle _malaise_ andanxious forebodings.
A few hours since, the first meeting had taken place between thereconciled couple. They had met with dignity and a calm semblanceof friendly regard on both sides; but between them lay the unspokenbut bitter certainty that, after all that had passed, no realreconciliation could ever be possible. Caesar's suspicious naturerecoiled from Domitia's superiority of intellect and vehementtemper--which flashed ominously in her eyes in spite of conventionalsmiles and smoothness--and from the scathing irony of her proudand revengeful spirit. She, on the other hand, knew the Emperor'shatred and implacable malice; she knew that, once aggrieved, Domitianhad the tenacity of a tiger in ambush, never weary of watching foran opportunity for the fatal spring. Added to this there was theremembrance of her own humiliations--her banishment from the palace,the execution of Paris, and the emperor's passion for his niece Julia.And now, to be forgiven by him whom she so thoroughly despised--toaccept the clemency of Domitian--this was the worst and deepesthumiliation of all....
So, listless and silent, she lay on her pillows, reviewing inimagination the events of the last few hours in pictures that seemedto mock her as they passed. The Apollo-like figure of the youngpatrician, who had fired her fancy at Baiae, seemed to smile at hercontemptuously; she sighed and closed her eyes, as though to escape thevision. Till a few hours ago, she had believed that she had conqueredthat madness. Her spirit had found strength in resolving on revenge,and she had felt like a goddess bent on punishing the presumption ofa mortal. But now--in this new mood--she was conscious of a subtlechange, the desire for revenge remained, but now there was nothinglofty, no sense of superiority in the feeling--the goddess had givenplace to a vain, lovesick woman, full of annoyance and petty spite.This change was a result of her altered circumstances; the sight ofher husband had reminded her of the fact which she had striven to theutmost to ignore; that one word from that adored youth would havesufficed to make this reconciliation an impossibility. Shame andhatred, rage and passion, seethed in her soul, and her self-tormentingfancy painted alternately the most enchanting and the most horriblepictures. As in some hideous dream, the form and features of Quintuswere mixed up with those of her former lover, the executed actor. Shesaw herself in tears, kneeling wildly at his feet--he raised her,kissed her, her senses reeled. Then he scornfully flung her fromhim--she shuddered from head to foot, and stabbed him desperately withher poniard....
Then again she recalled the occasion, when Polycharma had returned toher with the little tablet that Quintus had given to the slave-girl inthe park, the answer to her last passionate letter--that tablet hadbeen her death-warrant--but no, not hers--his! "He must die!"--sheseemed to see the words traced between those fatal lines.
Then everything faded from her vision like a landscape shrouded inmist. Instead of the slave-girl, it was the flute-player, who stoodbefore her with a triumphant sparkle in her eyes, as her cheek flushedunder the traitor's touch--as she had seen her stand, the bold hussy,on the hill at Cumae--happy, no doubt, in the love that she, theEmpress, pined for.
The thought was intolerable; the miserable woman writhed under theclutch of the demon of jealousy. She groaned and struggled for breath.Polycharma started to her feet.
"Lady, mistress--what is the matter?" she asked, gazing helplessly atDomitia's distorted features. But the sound of a voice broke the spell;Domitia controlled herself. Not a soul on earth, not even this trustedslave, should ever know how low she could be brought. She would holdherself proudly and defiantly--aye, though she should suffocate in theeffort. Polycharma should suppose that the adventure in the gardens ofLycoris was a mere whim, a comedy; never would she betray the anguishof her unrequited passion and deep humiliation.
She raised herself on the pillows and sighed deeply again, as if toprove that the groan which had escaped her had not been involuntary.
"I am afraid," she said in a low voice, "that I am too much accustomedto liberty, ever to make myself happy again within the bars of thisgolden cage. I have too long been a free and unfettered woman, tohave retained any talent for being Empress. The marble walls of apalace weigh upon me like lead. Ah! Polycharma! I am longing alreadyfor my quiet retreat on the Quirinal, or for Baiae and its deliciouswilderness."
"Oh! I understand that," exclaimed the girl. "Particularly forBaiae--is there a more heavenly spot on earth? The bench under thehedge of bay, with that lovely view over the blue sea! And when thefull moon rises over the hill--it is beyond words. And do you rememberthe young knight from Mediolanum,[282] who recited to us the woes ofQueen Dido,[283] and whom you permitted to kiss this white hand ashis reward? He trembled like an aspen in the evening breeze. Ah! andXanthios, the beautiful young Greek from Cumae! How desperately the boywas in love with me!"
Domitia tried to smile.
"Poor child," she said sadly. "And you too will find out what it is tolive at Caesar's court."
"Ah well!" said Polycharma airily, "by the grace of the gods, we willbe able to retain some fragment of our lost freedom. Your steward is avery shrewd and clever man, and he will see what can be managed. Andfor your sake, Sovereign Mistress, he would be ready to burn down Rome."
"Indeed? What makes you think so?"
"Well--of course we all have our own ideas.--Stephanus lives and toilsfor nothing but your Highness, and for the glory of your name. It washe, who conquered Caesar's obstinacy and made your return possible.And confess, gracious mistress--Baiae may be lovely, and the eveninghours in the park there were indeed delightful, but to share thethrone of Caesar, the ruler of the world--that is yet more lovely anddelightful!"
"Who can tell...." said Domitia.
"Stephanus, at any rate, thought so."
"I do not understand you."
"Well, I mean that he has always done his best...."
"But it seems to me, that it is no more than his duty."
"Certainly. Still, there is a way of doing one's duty--adevotedness...."
"What are you aiming at?" asked the Empress. "First you speak as ifyou wanted to keep silence, and then you break off as if you wished tospeak...."
"I only thought...."
"Speak out boldly, Polycharma, and have done with this mysteriousbehavior, which is like the incoherence of a sibyl."[284]
"By the gods! but I dare not. Besides I only guess at it; he couldnever be so bold...."
"You are talking in riddles. Speak out; I command you!"
"Oh!" cried the girl contritely. "How am I to say it? Stephanus isconsumed by a hopeless passion. He is dying of silent love for thecharms of his imperial mistress."
Domitia's features did not show a shade of feeling, and Polycharmaglanced in terror at the expressionless face, for not the twinkle ofan eyelash, not a twitch of the lips, betrayed what emotion might havebeen roused by this explanation.
"You are mistaken," replied the Empress after a long pause. "Mysteward is a faithful servant, and his zeal and devotion are seen byyour youthful fancy in a too poetical light.--Go, have done with yourfoolish imaginings; take your lute, and sing me one of your gayestsongs."
The girl retired a little di
stance, and an arch smile lighted up hershrewd little face. She fetched the cithara out of its carved case andreturned, lightly tuning the strings.
"Some one is knocking," she said pausing, and she went to the door."What is it? You know, Strato, that our mistress does not choose to bedisturbed."
A short whispered colloquy was carried on outside the curtain, thathung before the entrance; then Polycharma came to announce thatStephanus begged an audience on a matter of great importance.
Domitia did not at once reply. Then she suddenly looked up, as ifstruck by some new idea.
"Desire him to come in," she said eagerly. "Polycharma, leave ustogether."
The same meaning smile again parted the girl's lips. She quietly leanedthe lute against the wall and hastened to the door, where she liftedthe curtain with mock exaggeration of respect and let the steward passin front of her. Then she slipped out, shut and fastened the door andjoined two other slave-girls, who were sitting in the anteroom onred leather cushions, and carrying on a laughing flirtation with aflaxen-haired Sicambrian belonging to the praetorian guard.
Stephanus stood just within the door and bowed low. It was difficultto recognize in him the cool and unblenching man, never at a loss inhis perfect knowledge of court manners and gossip, and accomplished inthe arts of intrigue. In Domitia's presence the freedman was a slaveagain; all his presence of mind, all the easy demeanor he had acquiredin the school of life, he had left outside that door. The man, who wentforward in obedience to a nod from the Empress, was a servile, creepingslave, a pitiable wretch, who tried in vain to find utterance.
"What ails you?" asked the Empress with a fascinating smile. "You lookas pale as if you had lain awake all night. I fear your zeal promptsyou to work too hard."
"Gracious mistress," replied Stephanus, "I am distressed indeed if Iintrude...."
"I am always ready to listen to the faithful servant, who toils for meso devotedly. What brings you here, Stephanus?"
The freedman was startled; if he had read aright Polycharma's cunningglance, this reception promised him such happiness, that the merethought of it turned him giddy.
"You hesitate," the Empress went on. "I understand--you fear lestthere should be listeners in the anteroom. Your errand is serious andimportant."
She rose and led the way to a side chamber. Stephanus followed. Thefairy-like fittings of the beautiful room had exercised an intoxicatingcharm over the senses even of a spoilt courtier like Stephanus. Thewhole boudoir was like a luxurious bouquet--walls, floor, ceiling wereall hung and covered with diaphanous rose-colored stuff, on whichsparkling stones were sprinkled like dew-drops. A tender twilight andthe heady scent of roses completed the irresistible witchery of thescene.
The beautiful creature, who stood in the midst of all this dazzlingsplendor, with her white arms faintly tinged with the rosy reflection,and her flowing drapery clinging closely to the grand forms of herlimbs, might, without any great effort of fancy, have been taken forAphrodite, the goddess of love, incarnate in this adorable person.
Stephanus breathed hard; the empress sank on to a rose-colored couch,and beckoned him to approach.
"Now," she said graciously, "we are alone, proceed."
"Sovereign lady," said Stephanus, hardly possessed of all his senses,"my duty.... An hour ago your humble servant was with Lycoris. She ...I know not how ... but lately we have met with some obstacle ... it wasonly with the greatest difficulty that I succeeded.... The chamberlainis this evening to be her guest.... She promised me ... but she madeconditions...."
"It matters not," said Domitia. "You will strain every nerve to engageParthenius on our side, I know, and that is enough for me. The detailsI trust to your acumen. If you do not succeed the first time, you willtry again. A failure, even a blunder, needs no excuses. You have myunlimited confidence."
"I am overwhelmed by the greatness of your favors."
He bowed to the ground and humbly kissed the hem of her robe, whichfell in ample folds, leaving a small part of her sandal and snowy footbare. A strange mixture of pain and triumph lurked in her eyes, as thethought flashed through her mind: Ah, why, hapless, adoring wretch, areyou not Quintus? But then a terrible satisfaction gained the upperhand;her lips moved as she swore to herself an unspoken vow--she clenchedher fist as though she held a dagger--a dagger for hatred and revenge.Stephanus could not know, that at that moment she had formed a sinisterresolve.
"Nay--not that!" she whispered insinuatingly, as Stephanus roseagain. "That is service to the gods. Among friends a frank and honesthand-shake...."
As she spoke she offered the astonished steward the tips of herfingers. He looked into her eyes like one dazed. What a change! Thisunapproachable woman, this divinity--till this hour so cold andrepellent, was now all melting softness, dreamy and tender graciousness.
"Adored lady!" he groaned, pressing her hand to his pale lips. "Killme, but I can no longer conceal it! Death would be bliss as comparedwith the torment of silence. Glorious Domitia--more beautiful thanCypria herself--I love you!"
He fell at the feet of the haughty sovereign, as though stunned by hisown audacity, and leaned his forehead on her footstool. His brow bychance touched her foot, which she hastily withdrew with an involuntarygesture of aversion. But again a gleam of triumphant delight passedover her features.
"Stand up," she said, dissimulating her excitement. "Your confessionhas taken away my breath. I hardly know whether I should be angry, orwhether this heart--too tender, alas!--should forgive your boldness.You love me! It sounds sweetly simple, like the greeting of afriend--but think out the whole meaning of that short and simple word,and tell me then, if you do not tremble like a pine tree before thegale. Love craves for a return--answer me, Stephanus, do you esteemyourself so favored by the gods, as to dare to hope for Domitia'sfavors?"
The freedman had slowly risen to his feet. His thin hair, artificiallydarkened, hung loosely over his throbbing temples; his eyes were fixedand glazed.
"I know," he said in hollow tones, "that I am unworthy of your grace.But the gods themselves choose blindly, without any regard for meritand worth. Their mercies are dispensed blindfold--not only Ares theslayer, but the humble Anchises[285]...."
"Enough!" said Domitia, who fancied she could still feel the hot,bald forehead against her foot. "If the gods have chosen, you needentreat no more. Listen to me, Stephanus. I too will be gracious--Callit a whim or sympathetic tenderness, as you please;--it is allthe same.--You shall clasp the Empress in your arms and be happy,Stephanus--on one single condition you shall realize your dream. But itwill require the utmost exertion of your talents...."
Stephanus heard no more; overpowered by this dazzling vision ofhappiness, he had fallen back on one of the rose-colored seats. Hishead thrown back, his eyes closed, he lay a pitiable image of humanpassion and weakness. The haze of unconsciousness veiled the strangeand erratic brain, that was so unceasingly tossed and torn by cruelty,ambition, avarice, and sensual greed. The corpse-like figure, inits long Tarentine _toga_, was an object of unutterable horror inthe beauty-loving eyes of Domitia--the sharp chin, the eagle nose,the hard, fleshless brow, now no longer vivified by the sparkle ofthe fiery eyes, all filled her excited senses with the horror, thatblooming and joyous youth feels for the bony hand of a skeleton. Shealmost repented of her decision. Still, the recollection of Quintus,gave her strength to deny herself the craving of her inmost nature,and to persist in the road she had set out on. Perhaps, too, she hada lurking hope that she might cheat the tool of her vengeance, of thepromised reward.
The steward did not remain unconscious more than a minute; when heopened his eyes, Domitia was mistress of herself and the situation.With her right hand she commanded silence.
"You need rest," she said kindly. "And what I have to say can be saidin a very few words. Quintus Claudius, the son of the Flamen, hasinsulted me mortally. How, where, and when, must remain my secret. Helpme to triumph over this hated and unpardonable foe, and Domitia shallbe yours. Throw your toil
s round him, watch him wherever he goes, missno opportunity of ruining him.--How you will be able to accomplish thisI cannot even guess, but you, I know, can do anything. Will you fulfilthis commission?"
"I will, sovereign mistress!" cried Stephanus in a choking voice."Your hatred is one with mine, for I too loathe this man as if he wereplague-stricken. He shall die under the dagger of my meanest slave, andwhen he lies gasping in the dust, I will cry to him: Remember Domitia!"
The Empress started to her feet, and put out her hands with a gestureof horror.
"No, oh no!" she cried vehemently. "Death by the hand of an assassin,the mean fate of a merchant waylaid and flung from his cart by robbersnear the Three Taverns--that would be a satisfaction too mean forthis aching heart! I must feast my soul on his misery, set my feetupon his neck. A dagger-thrust--what is that to him? Do you know theman and his proud contempt of life? Look but once in his face, and askyourself whether I am to be avenged by a stab. He would die, as anotherman would get up and take his leave at a banquet; he would die, andthen it would be no worse for him, than if he had never breathed. No,Stephanus; go and devise some better plan than that! wound him, crushhim in that which he loves best; overwhelm him with disgrace; break histowering pride--then you will have done all I can ask of your skill anddevotion!"
"I will try. As yet I have not the faintest idea of the way to do it,but I have no doubt I can find it And when I have fulfilled the taskyou have set me...."
"In conquering my enemy, you will conquer my heart," said Domitiasmiling graciously.
"I will conquer or perish."
He flung his toga over his shoulder with an air, and went to the door.The Empress watched him with a fixed, almost a vacant stare. No soonerhad the curtain fallen and the door closed upon him, than she droppedinto the nearest seat, sobbing convulsively, and set her teeth deepinto the cushion in which she hid her face, while a torrent of scaldingtears rushed from her half-closed eyelids.
FOOTNOTES:
[281] STATUE OF VENUS. A statue of the Venus Genitrix (Generator, mother, so called as the ancestress of the race of Julius Caesar, who erected a temple to her under this name) has been found among the ruins of the imperial palace on the Palatine, also an Eros, swinging a jar.
[282] MEDIOLANUM, now Milan.
[283] THE WOES OF QUEEN DIDO, even at that time a famous episode in Virgil's Aeneid. That the sorrows of Dido were specially popular is shown in Juv. _Sat._ VI, 434, which runs:
"_Illa tamen gravior, quae, quum discumbere coepit, Laudat Virgilium, periturae ignoscit Elissae_...."
The question whether Dido did right in choosing death, seems to have been discussed by would-be beaux esprits, as in our own day, people argue about the comparative merits of Goethe and Schiller.
[284] SIBYL. ([Greek: Sibylla], from [Greek: Sios boule] literally "counsellor of God") the name given to the prophesying priestesses of Apollo. Their predictions were vague and mysterious.
[285] NOT ONLY ARES THE SLAYER, BUT THE HUMBLE ANCHISES. Stephanus alludes to the love affair of Aphrodite, who according to the Hellenic myth, bestowed her favors not only on the gods, as the homicidal Ares, but also upon mortals. She showed her love for the young Trojan prince Anchises, as is well known, among the groves of Ida.
Quintus Claudius: A Romance of Imperial Rome. Volume 1 Page 15
