_BOOK III. CHAPTER I._
Day was far advanced before the Centurion and myself once more drew nearto the city. When we reached the first declivity beyond the Anio, the sunwas about to sink behind the Janicular. The innumerable sounds of thecapital, blended together into one mighty whisper, seemed only to formpart of the natural music of the air, and might almost have beenconfounded with the universal hum of insects. We rode slowly down thehill, the base of which is ever darkened by the solemn groves of theAppian.
We advanced in silence through that region of melancholy magnificence. Iscarcely knew whether I should be able of myself to recognize, among somany similar edifices, the mausoleum of the Sempronii, and some feelingrendered me unwilling to put any questions concerning it to Sabinus.
But while we were moving leisurely, we heard of a sudden a clang ofcymbals among the trees, a little to the right hand, and the Centurion,saying, "What company can this be?" led the way down a narrow pathbranching from the main road. This path was winding and dusky, being edgedon either side with pines and cypresses, so that for some space we sawnothing; and the cymbals having ceased again, the Centurion said, "Isuppose it is some funeral; they have probably completed every thing, andhave seen out the last gleam among the embers. Let us get on, for perhapswe may be kept back by their procession, if they are already returning."We quickened our pace accordingly, till a sharp turning of the roaddiscovered to us a great number of persons who were standing silent, as ifin contemplation of some ceremony. Several persons on horseback seemed,like ourselves, to have had their progress interrupted; but they weresitting quietly, and making no complaint. The silence of the wholeassembly was indeed such, that Sabinus motioned to me to ask no questions,adding, in a whisper, "Take off your cap; it is some religious rite--everybody is uncovered."
The Centurion, however, was not a person to be stopped thus, withoutwishing to understand farther the cause of the interruption. The one sideof the road was guarded by a high wall, to the top of which a number ofjuvenile spectators had climbed;--the other by a ditch of great breadth,and full of water, beyond which was a grove of trees; and I saw him eyeingthe ditch, as if considering whether, by passing it, it might not bepossible, without disturbing the crowd, to get nearer the object of theirattention, or at least to make progress in our journey. At last hebeckoned to me to follow him, and the bold equestrian at one leap passedeasily. I imitated the example, and so did the Praetorian soldier, hisattendant, who had now come up to us; but as for Dromo, he was obliged toremain behind.
Ere we reached the bottom of the declivity, I perceived that we had comeclose to the Sempronian monument, and that the ceremony, whatever it mightbe, was taking place in front of the tower. We gave our horses to thesoldier, and contrived to gain the bank over against it--the same place, infact, where the Cretan slave had taken his station among the pine-trees,on the night when all those things occurred of which I have spoken to you.Like him, we placed ourselves as quietly as we could behind the trees,and, indeed, for our purpose, there could have been no better situation.We were contented, however, to occupy it as much as possible withoutattracting observation; for it was evident, in spite of the curiosity thatdetained so great a multitude near at hand, there must be somethingmysterious or ominous of nature in that which was taking place, since notone of the crowd had dared to come forward, so as to be within hearing ofthe officiators.
And these, indeed, were a melancholy group. For men, and women, andchildren of every age, to the number it may be of an hundred, appeared allstanding together in garments of black; while, in the midst of them, andimmediately by the base of the tower, two or three veiled priests, withtheir necessary assistants, seemed to be preparing for sacrifice a blackbull, whose hoofs spurned the dust as they held him, and his gilded hornsglittered in the light of the declining sun. Sabinus no sooner discoveredthe arrangement of the solemn company, than he whispered to me, "Be sure,these are all the kindred of the Sempronii. Without question they havecome to purify the mausoleum, and to avert the vengeance of the violatedManes. Behold," said he, "that stately figure, close to the head of theanimal on the right hand; that, I know, is Marcia Sempronia, Priestess ofApollo. Without doubt, these by her are her brothers."
"Some of her near relations they must be," I made answer; "for observe youthat girl whose face is wrapped in her mourning veil, and whose sobs areaudible through all its folds? I had one glimpse of her countenance, and Iam sure it is young Sempronia, the cousin and companion of Athanasia,--thedaughter of Lucius the senator."
"Poor girl," replied Sabinus, "from my heart I pity her. They are alljoining hands, that the nearest of the kindred touching the priest, hisdeed may appear manifestly to be the deed of all."
At this moment, one of the officiators sounded a few mournful notes upon atrumpet. The priest who held the axe, clave at one blow the front of thebull. The blood streamed, and wine streamed with it abundantly upon thebase of the mausoleum; and then, while we were yet gazing on theconvulsions of the animal, the trumpet sounded a second time, and thewhole company sung together, the priest leading them.
The shadows of the tower and of the pine trees lay strongly upon them, andI thought there was something of a very strange contrast between thecompany and their chant, on the one hand, and the beautiful sculptures,full of all the emblems of life and happiness, on the other, with which,according to the gay dreams of Grecian fancy, the walls of the funerealedifice itself had here and there been garnished. Fauns, and torch-bearingnymphs, and children crowned with garlands, and wreathed groups andfantastic dances, seemed to enliven almost to mockery the monumentalmarbles; but one felt the real gloominess both of death and ofsuperstition, in the attitudes and accents of the worshippers. It was thusthey sung:--
Ye Gods infernal! hear us from the gloom Of venerable depths remote, unseen; Hear us, ye guardians of the stained tomb, Majestic Pluto--and thou, Stygian Queen, On the dark bosom leaning of great Dis-- Thou reconciled Star of the Abyss.
Blood, not for you, unholy hands have poured, Ye heard the shriek of your insulted shrine; Barbarian blasphemies, and rites abhorred, Pollute the place that hath been long divine; Borne from its wounded breast an atheist cry Hath pierced the upper and the nether sky.
With blood of righteous sacrifice again The monumental stone your suppliants lave. Behold the dark-brow'd bull--Behold him slain! Accept, ye powers of the relenting grave, The sable current of that vital stream; And let the father's hope upon the children gleam.
And ye, that in the ever dusky glades Of Hades, wandering by Cocytus' shore, Ancestral spirits--melancholy shades-- With us the tresspass of the tomb deplore; Oh! intercede--that terror and disgrace May not possess (as now) your resting-place.
What though the liquid serpent of the deep Between lie coil'd in many a glittering ring: Not unobserved of your pale eyes we weep, Nor to deaf ears this doleful chant we sing; Strong is the voice of blood through night to go, Through night and hell, and all the realms below.
Then hear us, kindred spirits--stately Sire And pensive Mother! wheresoe'er ye glide; If ever solemn pile and soaring fire In freedom sped you to the Stygian tide,-- Have pity on your children: let the breath Of living sorrow melt the frozen ear of death.
For Her that, sprung like us from your high line, Hath mingled in the sacrifice of guilt, Ye know that angry star, her natal sign, To expiate whose curse this blood is spilt; If not suffices this atoning blood, Oh, steep the thought of her in Lethe's flood.
Beneath that current lazy and serene, In whose unfathomable waters lie The slumbering forms of horrors that have been In Hades, and in Ocean, Earth, and Sky-- With long forgotten curse and murder old, Steep that lost daughter's errors manifold.
Once more for you an hallowed flame there burns. Once more for you an hallowed stream there flows; Despise not our lustrations of your urns, Nor let unhoused Manes be our foes! Above the children of your lineage born, Hover not, awful gho
sts, in anger and in scorn.
These words were sung, as I have said, by the whole of this kindred thereassembled together; the first part of them distinctly, though not loudly;but the last verses in a note so low, that no one, unless quite near,(like ourselves,) could have comprehended their meaning. But as for theyoung Sempronia, when they came to that part of the chant in whichreference was so particularly made to Athanasia, not only did her lipsrefuse to join in the words, but her agitation was such that I thought thepoor maiden would have screamed outright, had she not been controlled bythe eye, and the hand also, of her aunt the Priestess. Sobs, however, andlow hysterical groans, could not be stifled; and at last so great was heragony, that even the haughty Priestess was compelled to give way to it.
"Bring water," said she; "dash ye water upon the foolish thing: methinksit seems almost as if she had partaken in the frenzy of her unhappy----"
And before she could finish the sentence, one or two of the females thatwere present did take hold of Sempronia, and began, seeing there was nowater nearer at hand, to bear her slender form towards the small stream ofwhich I have already spoken, and which flowed immediately behind the clumpof pine trees, amongst which the Centurion and I were standing.
She was quite passive in their hands; and they dragged her withoutresistance or difficulty to the place where we were standing; but theycould not pass without seeing us: and no sooner did the eyes of Semproniafall upon me, than she burst by one unexpected effort from the arms ofthose that were sustaining her, and ere I or any one could suspect whatshe was to do, there lay she at my feet, clinging with her arms around myknees. "Oh, Valerius," said she--"Oh, dear Valerius, they curse Athanasia!Where is my Athanasia? whither have they taken her? Oh, tell me, that Imay go to her--that I may go to comfort Athanasia!"
"Peace!" said, before I could answer, the Priestess of Apollo--"Peace, mad,wretched thing,--has infatuation blasted the whole of our line?" And sheseized Sempronia by the arm, and compelled her to spring from her knees.But the maiden still clung by her hands to me, and continued, with looksand words of misery, to demand from me that knowledge which, alas! I wouldmyself have given so much to possess. Sabinus, however, smote me on theshoulder, as if to make me recollect myself; and I had resolution enoughnot to betray the feelings with which I listened to Sempronia's franticsupplication.
"What is this, sir?" then said the Priestess--"What is it that you know ofAthanasia? and why is it that you have presumed to witness the secretsacrifice of a noble race?--Speak--or is there no meaning in this poorgirl's frenzy? And yet, methinks I have seen you before, and that, too, inthe presence of----"
"It was," said I, hastily--"it was indeed in the presence of Athanasia; butthat circumstance, if you please to remember, was altogether accidental. Iwas with the lady Rubellia when you found her in the Temple of Apollo----"
"Yes," said she, "it was that same day when she refused to name the nameof Phoebus in his own precincts! Ha! little did I imagine what thoughtswere in her breast--else might we at least have been spared this opendegradation. And yet you, methinks, saluted Athanasia.--What is your name,sir?--Know you, in truth, whither the lady Athanasia has been conveyed?"
"He was with her!--he was with her!" exclaimed Sempronia,--"he was with herin the tower when the soldiers came.--O Valerius! tell me where she isnow,--into what dungeon have they cast my friend--my sister----"
"Ha!" quoth the Priestess, "he was with her in thetower!--Romans--kinsmen--Lucius--Marcus--hear ye this? I charge ye, seize uponthis treacherous blasphemer!--It is he that has deceived Athanasia; and nowmust he come here to taint the smoke of our sacrifice, and pollute ourprayers with his presence.--Seize him!"--And she herself grasped my cloak asshe spake--"Seize, I charge ye, this accursed Christian!"
But Sabinus, when he saw the Priestess thus furious, stept forward, andsaid to her kinsmen, who were standing in perplexity behind her, "Sirs, Ibeseech you, be not you also carried away with this madness.--My friendhere knows nothing of the lady Athanasia, except that she was borne awayby soldiers from the very place where we are standing. I myself witnessedit also, being here with the Praetorians. Valerius is no more a Christianthan she who accuses him."
"I know not, sirs, how we are to understand all this," said one of theSempronii, in a calm voice. "Is this young man the same Valerius who isliving in the house of Licinius?--Yet it must be he. I have been withLicinius this very day; and if this be he, whatever he may have knownbefore, I am sure he knows nothing of where Athanasia is now,--and, sister,I am well assured he is no Christian."
"It is the same, sir," said Sabinus. "He is the same Caius Valerius ofwhom you spake, and I am Sabinus, a Centurion of the Praetorians."
"We have all heard of your name," said Sempronius, respectfully; "Iperceive there is some mistake in all this matter. If it please you, letus walk aside, and understand each other."
So saying, he withdrew Sabinus to a little distance, and beckoned to me toaccompany him. "Valerius," said the old man, when he perceived that wewere out of hearing, "I crave you, in the first place, to forget all thistrouble which has been occasioned to you by the violence of my daughter,on the one hand, and of my sister on the other. They are women; and, fordifferent reasons, the violence of both is excusable. I have been for aconsiderable part of this day with Licinius, and have heard from himenough to satisfy me how guiltlessly you yourself have been involved inthis affair; and your speedy liberation from confinement is more thanenough to confirm my belief of all that he said. Yet there is much which Ido not understand. I pray you speak openly, and fear nothing--you have,indeed, nothing to fear. Was it in consequence of any private meeting withmy niece--nay, I mean not to suspect you of any thing amiss--in one word,how was it that you happened to be taken into custody with that unhappygirl?"
"Sir," I replied, "you are a noble Roman, and the near kinsman ofAthanasia. You have a right to put these questions, and whateverreluctance I may have to overcome, I feel that I have no right to refusean answer." And so I told Sempronius, plainly and distinctly, the storyboth of my unwilling entrance into the mausoleum, and of my forcibleabduction from it. In short, I saw no reason to conceal any thing from theperson who was most likely to be able to serve Athanasia, if any thing toserve her were possible.
"It is well," he said; "you speak as becomes a man of the Valerian blood.But as for poor Athanasia, I swear to you I cannot yet bring myself tobelieve that she hath in reality been privy to such things as have beendiscovered concerning these Christians."--"Discovered!" said I. "I prayyou, what has been discovered concerning them? If you allude to any of thewild stories that are circulated about their religion, you may depend uponit, it is all mere madness to believe a word of it. I have read in theirsacred books myself, and I swear to you, that, so far as I have seen,nothing can be more simple, benign, humane, than the morality inculcatedby their leader."
"Young man," he answered, "I was not thinking of their creed, which, foraught I know or care, may be sublime enough; for there was always amysterious sort of philosophy current among those old Asiatic nations. ButI speak of the designs of these men; in one word, I speak of theirconspiracy."--"Conspiracy!--What? How? Against whom? I will pledge my life,no conspiracy was sheltered beneath yon tower that night. I swear to you,they are simple people, and were thinking of nothing but theirworship."--"Worship!" quoth he; "I promise you it will not be so easy topersuade me that Cotilius has suddenly become a man of so much piety,either to our gods, or to the deities (if they have any) of theChristians.--What, Cotilius? By Jove, Rome does not hold at this moment amore bold, daring, godless rascal. You may as soon try to make me believethat Capaneus came to Thebes with a hymn in his mouth. No, no--the swornfriend of Domitian will not easily gain credit for his new-sprungsanctity."--"Cotilius? That was the very name of the man that seized me, asI have told you."--"I should have guessed as much," said he;--"Yes, Ipromise you, how little soever Athanasia might have known, secrets theyhad; and Cotilius was well aware at what peril they should be revealed."
"The late example," said I, "must indeed have alarmed him."--"What," saidhe, "do you speak of that fanatic Syrian? You know little of Cotilius. No,no--had the worst of his fears been the necessity to worship all thedeities between Euphrates and Rhine, he would have slept soundly."--"Butsurely," said I, "you do not believe that Athanasia had any knowledge ofthe man's secret designs, if he had any. He may have used Christianity, ordesired to use it, as a weapon against the State; but be certain, neithershe nor any of those really attached to their religion, had any notion ofhis purpose."
"It may be so, indeed," he answered;--"Heaven grant it may. As forCotilius, I will speak to you more at length of him anon. I will bid adieuto my sister, and take order about my daughter; and then, if it so pleaseyou, we shall walk together to the city."
To this I agreed, but Sabinus rode on to the camp of the Praetorians. Hewhispered to me, however, that unless he were most necessarily detained,he should be, ere long, at the house of Licinius.
"To you," said the Senator, as we went on, "who have so lately come fromyour island, the whole of this expiatory spectacle is probably quite new;but I am sure Sabinus could not have been aware what was its purpose,otherwise he would not have been guilty of so grievously offending thefeelings of my sister, and some of the rest of my kindred, by remaining awitness of these most private rites. The Priestess is indeed inconsolable,and her grief has set half her other passions in motion likewise.Athanasia was as dear to her as if she had been her daughter; so, intruth, she was to us all, ever since her parents died. But Cotilius, thisknave Cotilius, has, I fear, blasted her hopes and ours."--"It occurs tome," said I, "and I should have mentioned it to you before, that thereseemed to be no great understanding between this Cotilius and Athanasia.She was evidently displeased with many things he both said and did; andhe, on his part, did not appear to relish her interference."--"True," hecontinued, "you have already hinted as much; and I assure you, these aresome of the circumstances in the whole case that tend most to excite myhopes. Great Heavens! what would Caius have said had he dreamt that hisorphan was to be suspected of having sympathy with any of the dark designsof that shame to Roman knighthood! But you, of course, are a stranger tothis man's history."--"With its end, at least," I replied, "it is like wemay all be soon enough acquainted."
"Yes," said he, "Heaven grant we have not cause too deeply to remember it!but I have known him from the beginning. I told you already that he was ingreat favour with Domitian."--"And the reverse, of course," said I, "bothwith Nerva and Trajan."
"Even so," he continued, "and with reason; for in all the disturbanceswhich occurred on the accession of the last sovereign, and, in particular,in those foul intrigues among the Praetorians, which at one time broughtNerva's own life into immediate danger and compelled him to bare his neckto the soldiery at his gate, this Cotilius was more than suspected to havehad a deep concern. When Petronius and Parthenius(2) were hacked inpieces, it needed no great witchcraft to detect some of the moving spiritsthat produced their catastrophe; but proof there was none at the time; andeven had there been proof enough, the good old man would have been tootimid to act upon it. These things, however, could not be forgotten eitherby Nerva or his successor. Hitherto, the strong hand has repressed everyrebellious motion; but be sure that no man ever lived more an object ofsuspicion, than this man has done ever since Nerva adopted Trajan."
"And you think," said I, "that, among other intrigues, it had occurred tothis man to make his own use of the Christians; despised and persecutedthough they be, there can, indeed, be no doubt that their numbers areconsiderable, and that their faith is a strong bond of cohesion."
"It is even so," said the Senator. "But as yet the treason even ofCotilius rests on suspicion only, and report; and, after all, even if hewere proved guilty of having nourished such schemes, the account you giveof what you saw and heard at their assembly, inspires me with considerabledoubts whether he can be supposed to have ever as yet ventured to invitetheir participation;--unless, indeed, they practised deception while youwere with them. The moment I heard of what had happened, I went to thePalatine, in hopes of attaining either assistance from Urbicus, or mercy,if that were all we could look for, from Trajan. But Urbicus could give meno satisfaction, except that my niece was in a solitary and safe place.The charges, he said, against one of the leaders (he meant Cotilius) wereheavy; and until these were sifted, it was impossible that access could beafforded to any one who had been thrown into confinement. The Emperor hadshewn unusual symptoms of anxiety, and had even, so he hinted, been inperson investigating the matter at a distance from the city, during greatpart of the preceding night and day. To tell you the truth, Valerius, tillthis thing fell out, I was wont to consider the new violence about theChristians as somewhat unworthy of the enlarged intellect of Trajan: ithad not occurred to me, how easily the resources of such a superstitionmight be enlisted in the cause of discontent."
"Of course," said I, "nothing will be done in regard to Athanasia untilall circumstances have been examined."
"Done!" said he; "has not enough been done already to justify almost in aman more than you have seen among our women? Has not a whole family beendisgraced? Has not the mausoleum of their fathers been prostituted for theunholy purposes of this barbarian sect? If the Senate should be summoned,with what countenance should I shew myself among my friends?--Unhappy girl!How little did she know in what trouble she was to involve those that loveher the best."
By this time we had come within sight of the house of Licinius, and theSenator took leave, with a promise that I should see him on the morrow.
I found Sextus alone in his chamber, where he embraced me with all theardour of juvenile affection. "Alas!" said he, "my dear Caius, at anyother time I might have found fault with you for taking so great a part inmy griefs, and yet keeping so many of your own to yourself. But if it beindeed as Sempronia has said, I should be a strange friend to choose thishour for complaining of such trifles as regard only myself."
"Sextus," I replied, "it was only because of the greatness of your owndistresses that I concealed from your kindness any of mine."
"My Valerius," he answered, "we shall talk at length to-morrow; atpresent, I have only time to say, that the misfortune of Athanasia wascommunicated to Sempronia almost immediately, by an old freedwoman, whohad been in the habit of attending her when she went from home in secret,and who, going to the mausoleum to accompany her on her return, arrivedthere just in time to see what befel her. She saw you also, (how she knewwho you were, I know not,) and when she had told her story to Sempronia,the poor girl, before speaking even with her father, sent for me to cometo her in the gardens. I did so; all that passed I need not repeat; but Ihope my advice was the right one. At all events, I acted for the best, andmy father, who is now aware of every thing, seemed to approve of what Ihad done. O Valerius! were Athanasia free, and you happy, many things haveoccurred to make me much more at ease than when you left us. My father isevidently shocked with what Dromo told about Rubellia; and as forXerophrastes, he had not once spoken to him either yesterday or to-day.Indeed, neither of them have been much here. My father is continuallyexerting himself concerning Athanasia; and Xerophrastes, I suppose, isafraid of a discovery. As for me, I am sorry I must leave you, for Ipromised to meet Sempronia; and although I have nothing to tell her, Icannot fail in my appointment. She must have returned before this timefrom the mausoleum, where an expiatory sacrifice was to be made atsunset."
Sabinus by this time had hastened to me once more, according to his kindpromise. I told him that my kinsman was not at home, and that I proposed,in the meantime, accompanying his son a part of the way towards theSuburban of Capito. The Centurion insisted on going with us, saying, thathe could not think of returning to the camp without having spoken withLicinius.
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