_CHAPTER IV._
A sharp walk of about an hour and a half on the Salarean Way, brought uswithin sight of the Suburban of Capito.
A lofty wall protected the fields of this retirement from the intrusiveeyes of passengers. We entered by a small side-door, and found ourselves,as if by some magical delusion, transported from the glare of a Romanhighway, into the depth and silence of some primeval forest. No nicelytrimmed path conducted our feet. Every thing had at least the appearanceof being left as nature had formed it. The fern rustled beneath us as wemoved; the ivy was seen spreading its careless tresses from tree to tree;the fawn bounded from the thicket. By degrees, however, the gloomlessened, till at length, over an open space of lawn, we perceived theporch of entrance, and a long line of colonnade. We passed under theporch, and across a paved court where a fountain was playing, into thegreat hall, which commanded all the other side of the place--a nobleprospect of elaborate gardens gradually rising into shady hills, and lostin a distance of impenetrable wood.
Here a freedman attended us, who informed us that Capito had retired intoa sequestered part of the grounds with some friends from the city; butthat if we chose we could easily join him there. We assented, and,following his guidance, ere long traversed no narrow space of luxuriantcultivation. From one perfumed terrace we descended to another; till,having reached a certain green and mossy walk, darkened by a naturalarching of vines and mulberries, the freedman pointed to a statue at thefarther end, and told us it stood over against the entrance of hismaster's summer-house. When we reached the statue, however, we couldperceive no building. The shaded avenue terminated in face of aprecipitous rock, from which there fell a small stream that was receivedin a massive basin, where the waters foamed into spray withouttransgressing the margin. A thousand delicious plants and far-soughtflowers clustered around the base of the rock and the brink of thefountain, and the humming of innumerable bees mingled with the whispers ofthe stream. We stood for a moment uncertain whether we should move on orretire, when we heard one calling to us from beyond; and passing to theother side of the basin, descried, between the rock and the falling water,a low entrance into what seemed to be a natural cave or grotto. Westooped, and found ourselves within one of the most luxurious retirementsever haunted by the foot of Dryad. A sparry roof hung like a canopy ofgems and crystals over a group of sculptured Nymphs and Fawns, which wereplaced on a rustic pedestal within a circular bath shaped out of theliving stone. Around the edge of the waveless waters that slumbered inthis green recess, were spread carpets rich with the dyes of Tyrian art,whereon Capito was reposing with his friends. He received Sextus withkindness, and me with politeness, introducing us both to his companions,who were three in number--all of them, like himself, advanced in years, andtwo of them wearing long beards, though their demeanour was destitute ofany thing like the affected stateliness of our friend Xerophrastes. Thesetwo, as our host informed us, were Greeks and Rhetoricians--the third, aPatrician of the house of the Pontii, devoted, like himself, to thepursuits of philosophy and the pleasures of a literary retirement.
They were engaged, when we joined them, in a conversation which had sprungfrom the perusal of some new metaphysical treatise. One of the Greeks, themore serene-looking of the pair, was defending its doctrines withearnestness of manner, although in a low and measured cadence of voice;the other espoused the opposite side, with quickness of utterance andsevere animation of look; while the two lordly Romans seemed to becontenting themselves, for the most part, with listening, although it wasnot difficult to perceive from their countenances, that the one sided inopinion with the Stoic, and Capito himself with the Epicurean.
They all arose presently, and proceeded to walk together, withoutinterrupting the conversation, along the same shaded avenue which Sextusand myself had already traversed. He and I moved along with them, but alittle in their rear--my companion being still too much abstracted tobestow his attention on what they were saying; while I myself, being butlittle an adept in such mysteries, amused myself rather with the exteriorand manners of the men, than with the merits of the opinions they wereseverally defending. The Greeks were attired in the graceful costume oftheir country, which was worn, however, far more gracefully by theEpicurean than his brother,--the materials of his robe being delicate, andits folds arranged with studied elegance, whereas the coarse garment ofthe Stoic had apparently engaged less attention. Nevertheless, there was amore marked difference between the attire of Capito and that of PontiusMamurra; for the former was arrayed in a tunic of the whitest cloth,beneath which appeared fine linen rollers, swathing his thighs and legs,to protect them, as I supposed, from the heat and the insects, and a pairof slippers, of dark violet-coloured cloth, embroidered with silverflowers; while the other held his arms folded in the drapery of an old butgenuine toga, which left his yet strong and sinewy nether limbs exposed tothe weather, all except what was covered by his tall black sandals andtheir senatorian crescents.
As we passed on, our host from time to time directed the attention of hisvisiters, more particularly of the two Greeks, to the statues of bronzeand marble, which were placed at convenient intervals along the terracesof his garden. The symmetry of these figures, and the graceful simplicityof their attitudes, inspired me with I know not what of calm and soothingpleasure such as I had never before tasted, so that I thought I could havelingered for ever amidst these haunts of philosophic luxury. The imageswere, for the most part, portraits of illustrious men--Greeks, Romans--sagesand heroes; but beautiful female forms were not wanting, nor majesticrepresentations of gods and demi-gods, and all the ethereal imaginationsof the Grecian poets. Seeing the name of Jupiter inscribed upon one of thepedestals, I paused for a moment to contemplate the gloriouspersonification of might and wisdom, depositing, at the same time, ahandful of roses at the feet of the statue--upon which I could observe thatmy behaviour furnished some mirth to the Epicurean Demochares; while, onthe contrary, Euphranor, the disciple of the Porch, approved of what Idid, and rebuked his companion for saying any thing that might even bypossibility disturb the natural piety of an innocent youth. But the RomanStoic stood by with a smile of stately scorn; and utter indifference waspainted on the countenance of Capito. At another time, Sextus having staidbehind to examine the beauties of a certain statue of Diana, whichrepresented the goddess stretched out in careless slumber on the turf,with a slender grayhound at her feet, the Epicurean began to rally me onhaving a taste inferior to that of my friend, whose devotion, he said,could not be blamed, being paid to an exquisite imitation of what thegreat Nature of things had decreed should ever be the most agreeable ofall objects in the eyes of a person of his age.--"Whereas you," continuedhe, "appear to be more occupied with deep-hung eye-brows, ambrosialbeards, and fantastic thunderbolts, and the other exuberances of Homericimagination."
To this reproach I made no reply, but Capito immediately began to recitesome verses of a Hymn of Calimachus, in which both the Greeks joined him;nor could any thing be more delightful than the harmonious numbers. Asudden exclamation of my friend, however, interrupted them, and Capito,looking up a long straight pathway, said, "Come, Valerius, we shall seewhether you or Sextus is the more gallant to living beauties, for herecome my nieces. I assure you, I know not of which of them I am the moreproud; but Sempronia has more of the Diana about her, so it is probableshe may find a ready slave in our Sextus."
We advanced, and the uncle, having tenderly saluted them, soon presentedus to their notice. Sextus blushed deeply when he found himself introducedto Sempronia, while in her smile, although she looked at him as if to sayshe had never seen him before, I thought I could detect a certainhalf-suppressed something of half-disdainful archness--the colour in hercheeks, at the same time, being not entirely unmoved. She was, indeed, avery lovely girl, and in looking on her light dancing play of features, Icould easily sympathize with the young raptures of my friend. Her dresswas such as to set off her charms to the utmost advantage, for the brightgreen of her B
yssine robe, although it would have been a severe trial toany ordinary complexion, served only to heighten the delicious brilliancyof hers. A veil, of the same substance and colour, richly embroidered withflowers of silver tissue, fell in flowing drapery well-nigh to her knees.Her hair was almost entirely concealed by this part of her dress, but asingle braid of the brightest nut-brown was visible low down on herpolished forehead. Her eyes were black as jet, and full of a nymph-likevivacity.
The other, Athanasia, was not a dazzling beauty. Taller than her cousin,and darker-haired, but with eyes rather light than otherwise, of a clear,somewhat melancholy gray--with a complexion paler than is usual in Italy, ademeanour hovering between cheerfulness and innocent gravity, and attiredwith a vestal simplicity in the old Roman tunic, and cloak of whitecloth--it is possible that most men might have regarded her less than theother. A single star of diamonds, planted high up among her black hair,was the only ornament she wore.
At the request of the younger lady, we all returned to the grotto, in theneighbourhood of which, as I have already mentioned, our tasteful host hadplaced the rarest of his exotic plants, some of which Sempronia was nowdesirous of inspecting. As we paced again slowly over those smooth-shavenalleys of turf, and between those rows of yews and box, clipped intoregular shapes, which abounded in this more artificial region, theconversation, which the appearance of the cousins had disturbed, wasresumed; although, as out of regard to their presence, the voices of thedisputants preserved a lower and milder tone than before. I must confess,however, that mild as was the manner of the discourse, I could not helpbeing somewhat astonished, that a polite Roman could permit such topics tobe discussed in the hearing of females; above all, that he did notinterpose to prevent Demochares from throwing out so many sarcasticreflections concerning the deities whose statues decorated the garden. Abeautiful Mercury, in particular, which we all paused to admire, elicitedmany observations, that I could easily see were far from being agreeableto the fair cousins. But greatest of all was my wonder at the behaviour ofCapito himself, who, after we had again entered that delightful grotto,turned himself to me as if peculiarly, and began a deliberate andingenious piece of declamation concerning the tenets of his favouritephilosophy;--such as the fortuitous concourse of atoms, the transitory andfluctuating nature of all things, and the necessity of snatching presentenjoyments, as nothing permanent can be discovered whereon to repose themind. With great elegance, indeed, did he enlarge on these goldentheories, nor did he fail to intersperse his discourse with many exquisiteverses from Lucretius and other poetical followers of his sect. Such,however, was the earnestness of his declamation, that I could not helpbelieving him to be quite sincere to what he said, and asked him, notwithout anxiety, whether he had all his life been an Epicurean, or whetherit was only of late that he had espoused that discipline.
"Valerius," said he, "the question is not discreditable to your tender ageand provincial education. To be born wise, Fate or Heaven has denied tothe human race. It is their privilege to win wisdom for themselves; thefault is their own, if they do not die wise. When the stripling entersupon the theatre of the world, bright hopes are around him, and he movesonward in the buoyancy of conscious power. The pride of young existence isthe essence and extract of all his innumerable sensations. Rejoicing inthe feeling of the real might that is, it is his delight to think--todream--of might existing and exerted as for ever. New to the material, butstill more to the moral world, he believes in the stability of all thingswhose transitory nature has not been exhibited before him. New to thetricks of mankind, he believes that to be said truly, which, why it shouldbe said falsely, he is unable to conjecture. For him, superstition hasequal potency to darken the past, and illuminate the future. At that earlyperiod, when ignorance is of itself sufficient to produce a certainhappiness, the ambition is too high to admit such doctrines as I have noshame in avowing. But time moves on, and every hour some tender plant iscrushed beneath his tread. The spirit clings long to its delusions. Thepromise that is destroyed to-day springs into life to-morrow in some newshape; and Hope, like some warring deity of your poets, bleeds and sickensonly to revive again. But disappointment at length gathers to itself thevigour of an enduring form. The horizon becomes colder around us--the soulwaxes faint and more faint within. It is then that man begins to recognizethe true state, not of his own nature alone, but of all things thatsurround him--that having tasted much of evil, he is taught to feel thevalue of good--and weaning himself from vain-glorious dreams, learns thegreat lesson of wisdom, to enjoy the moments as they pass--to snatch somesolid pleasure, at least, amidst a world of vision and imagination; so, ina word, as the poet has expressed it, he may not have reason to complainin the hour of death that he has never lived.
"In me," he continued, "you behold one that has gone through theexperience necessary to produce an entire acquiescence in these doctrines.I am one of those, Valerius, who have resolved to concentrate, after thisfashion, the whole of my dreams upon the hour that is. There are notwanting, indeed, here and elsewhere, persons who profess the sametheories, only in the view of finding excuse and shelter for the practiceof vice. But till it be proved that the practice of vice is the best meansof enjoyment, in vain shall it be asserted that our doctrine isessentially adverse to virtue. The mistakes or the misdeeds of individualsmust be estimated for nothing; for where is the doctrine that may not beshewn to have been defended by impure livers? The founder of our sect isacknowledged, by its most virulent enemies, to have been the mostblameless of men, and they, I must take leave to believe, can never besincere friends of virtue, who doubt, that he who is a true worshipper ofpleasure, may also be the worshipper of virtue."
There was a certain something, as I thought, more like suppressedmelancholy than genuine hilarity, in the expression of the old man's face,as well as in the tone of his voice, while he gave utterance to thesesentiments; nor did any of those present appear desirous of protractingthe argument; although I did not imagine from their looks that any of themhad altered their opinion. What, however, I could not help remarking in aparticular manner, was the gentle regret painted in the countenance of theelder niece, while Capito was speaking. The maiden sate over against himall the while, her cheek supported on her left hand, with an expression oftender affection. From time to time, indeed, she cast her eye upward witha calm smile, but immediately resumed her attitude of pensive abstraction.Her uncle took her hand in his when he had done speaking, and kissed itgently, as if to apologize for having said any thing disagreeable to her.She smiled again upon the sceptic, and walked by herself, (for I could nothelp following her with my eye,) down into a dark walk of pines thatbranched off at the right hand from the entrance into the grotto. There Isaw her stoop and pluck a pale flower. This she placed in her bosom, andthen rejoined us with a more cheerful aspect; after which, we all walkedtowards the villa. Nor did it escape my notice, that, although Semproniaappeared willing to avoid Sextus as we went, it always happened, by someaccident or other, that he was nearer to her than any other person of thecompany.
They were both at a little distance behind the rest of the party, whenEuphranor addressed himself to me, saying, "Is not this youth, yourcompanion, the same that is under the guidance of a certainXerophrastes?"--"The same," said I, "and a wary, sage-looking Athenian ishis tutor. I believe he also is of the Porch."--"No doubt," interruptedDemochares; "he has a beard that Zeno might have been proud of, and walksas if he conceived himself to be the chief pillar of the Porch, if not thePorch itself."--"Who shall prevent Demochares from having his jest?"replied Euphranor. "The man is by birth a Thessalian, and his gutturalsstill remind one strongly of his native hills."--I would gladly have heardmore of it, but he was interrupted by the nearer approach of the rest.
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