Hypatia — or New Foes with an Old Face

by Charles Kingsley

  CHAPTER XXII: PANDEMONIUM

  But where was Philammon all that week?

  For the first day or two of his imprisonment he had raved like some wildbeast entrapped. His new-found purpose and energy, thus suddenly dammedback and checked, boiled up in frantic rage. He tore at the bars of hisprison; he rolled himself, shrieking, on the floor. He called in vain onHypatia, on Pelagia, on Arsenius--on all but God. Pray he could not, anddare not; for to whom was he to pray? To the stars?--to the Abysses andthe Eternities?....

  Alas! as Augustine said once, bitterly enough, of his own Manichaeanteachers, Hypatia had taken away the living God, and given him insteadthe four Elements.... And in utter bewilderment and hopeless terrorhe implored the pity of every guard and gaoler who passed along thecorridor, and conjured them, as brothers, fathers, men, to help him.Moved at once by his agony and by his exceeding beauty, the roughThracians, who knew enough of their employer's character to have littledifficulty in believing his victim to be innocent, listened to him andquestioned him. But when they offered the very help which he implored,and asked him to tell his story, the poor boy's tongue clove to the roofof his mouth. How could he publish his sisters shame? And yet she wasabout to publish it herself!.... And instead of words, he met theircondolences with fresh agonies, till they gave him up as mad; and, tiredby his violence, compelled him, with blows and curses, to remain quiet;and so the week wore out, in dull and stupefied despair, which trembledon the very edge of idiocy. Night and day were alike to him. The foodwhich was thrust in through his grate remained untasted; hour afterhour, day after day, he sat upon the ground, his head buried in hishands, half-dozing from mere exhaustion of body and mind. Why shouldhe care to stir, to eat, to live? He had but one purpose in heaven andearth: and that one purpose was impossible.

  At last his cell-door grated on its hinges.

  'Up, my mad youth!' cried a rough voice. 'Up, and thank the favour ofthe gods, and the bounty of our noble--ahem!--Prefect. To-day he givesfreedom to all prisoners. And I suppose a pretty boy like you may goabout your business, as well as uglier rascals!'

  Philammon looked up in the gaoler's face with a dim half-comprehensionof his meaning.

  'Do you hear?' cried the man with a curse. 'You are free. Jump up, or Ishut the door again, and your one chance is over.'

  'Did she dance Venus Anadyomene?'

  'She! Who?'

  'My sister! Pelagia!'

  'Heaven only knows what she has not danced in her time! But they say shedances to-day once more. Quick! out, or I shall not be ready in time forthe sports. They begin an hour hence. Free admission into the theatreto-day for all--rogues and honest men, Christians and heathens--Cursethe boy! he's as mad as ever.'

  So indeed Philammon seemed; for, springing suddenly to his feet, herushed out past the gaoler, upsetting him into the corridor, and fledwildly from the prison among the crowd of liberated ruffians, ran fromthe prison home, from home to the baths, from the baths to the theatre,and was soon pushing his way, regardless of etiquette, towards the lowertiers of benches, in order, he hardly knew why, to place himself as nearas possible to the very sight which he dreaded and abhorred.

  As fate would have it, the passage by which he had entered opened closeto the Prefect's chair of state, where sat Orestes, gorgeous in hisrobes of office, and by him--to Philammon's surprise and horror--Hypatiaherself.

  More beautiful than ever, her forehead sparkling, like Juno's own, witha lofty tiara of jewels, her white Ionic robe half hidden by a crimsonshawl, there sat the vestal, the philosopher. What did she there? Butthe boy's eager eyes, accustomed but too well to note every light andshade of feeling which crossed that face, saw in a moment how wanand haggard was its expression. She wore a look of constraint, ofhalf-terrified self-resolve, as of a martyr: and yet not an undoubtingmartyr; for as Orestes turned his head at the stir of Philammon'sintrusion, and flashing with anger at the sight, motioned him fiercelyback, Hypatia turned too, and as her eyes met her pupil's she blushedcrimson, and started, and seemed in act to motion him back also; andthen, recollecting herself, whispered something to Orestes which quietedhis wrath, and composed herself, or rather sank into her place again, asone who was determined to abide the worst.

  A knot of gay young gentlemen, Philammon's fellow-students, pulled himdown among them, with welcome and laughter; and before he could collecthis thoughts, the curtain in front of the stage had fallen, and thesport began.

  The scene represented a background of desert mountains, and on the stageitself, before a group of temporary huts, stood huddling together theblack Libyan prisoners, some fifty men, women, and children, bedizenedwith gaudy feathers and girdles of tasselled leather, brandishing theirspears and targets, and glaring out with white eyes on the strange scenebefore them, in childish awe and wonder.

  Along the front of the stage a wattled battlement had been erected,while below, the hyposcenium had been painted to represent rocks, thuscompleting the rough imitation of a village among the Libyan hills.

  Amid breathless silence, a herald advanced, and proclaimed that thesewere prisoners taken in arms against the Roman senate and people,and therefore worthy of immediate death: but that the Prefect, in hisexceeding clemency toward them, and especial anxiety to afford thegreatest possible amusement to the obedient and loyal citizens ofAlexandria, had determined, instead of giving them at once to thebeasts, to allow them to fight for their lives, promising to thesurvivors a free pardon if they acquitted themselves valiantly.

  The poor wretches on the stage, when this proclamation was translatedto them, set up a barbaric yell of joy, and brandished their spears andtargets more fiercely than ever.

  But their joy was short. The trumpets sounded the attack: a body ofgladiators, equal in number to the savages, marched out from one ofthe two great side passages, made their obeisance to the applaudingspectators, and planting their scaling-ladders against the front of thestage, mounted to the attack.

  The Libyans fought like tigers; yet from the first, Hypatia, andPhilammon also, could see that their promised chance of life was a meremockery. Their light darts and naked limbs were no match for the heavyswords and complete armour of their brutal assailants, who enduredcarelessly a storm of blows and thrusts on heads and faces protected byvisored helmets: yet so fierce was the valour of the Libyans, that eventhey recoiled twice, and twice the scaling-ladders were hurleddown again, while more than one gladiator lay below, rolling in thedeath-agony.

  And then burst forth the sleeping devil in the hearts of that greatbrutalised multitude. Yell upon yell of savage triumph, and still moresavage disappointment, rang from every tier of that vast ring of seats,at each blow and parry, onslaught and repulse; and Philammon saw withhorror and surprise that luxury, refinement, philosophic culture itself,were no safeguards against the infection of bloodthirstiness. Gay anddelicate ladies, whom he had seen three days before simpering delightat Hypatia's heavenward aspirations, and some, too, whom he seemed torecollect in Christian churches, sprang from their seats, waved theirhands and handkerchiefs, and clapped and shouted to the gladiators. For,alas! there was no doubt as to which side the favour of the spectatorsinclined. With taunts, jeers, applause, entreaties, the hired ruffianswere urged on to their work of blood. The poor wretches heard no voiceraised in their favour: nothing but contempt, hatred, eager lustof blood, glared from those thousands of pitiless eyes; and,broken-hearted, despairing, they flagged and drew back one by one.A shout of triumph greeted the gladiators as they climbed over thebattlement, and gained a footing on the stage. The wretched blacksbroke up, and fled wildly from corner to corner, looking vainly for anoutlet....

  And then began a butchery.... Some fifty men, women, and children werecooped together in that narrow space.... And yet Hypatia's countenancedid not falter. Why should it? What were their numbers, beside thethousands who had perished year by year for centuries, by that and farworse deaths, in the amphitheatres of that empire, for that faith whichshe was vowed to re-establish. It was part
of the great system; and shemust endure it.

  Not that she did not feel; for she, too, was woman; and her heart,raised far above the brutal excitement of the multitude, lay calmly opento the most poignant stings of pity. Again and again she was in theact to entreat mercy for some shrieking woman or struggling child;but before her lips could shape the words, the blow had fallen, or thewretch was whirled away from her sight in the dense undistinguishablemass of slayers and slain. Yes, she had begun, and she must followto the end.... And, after all, what were the lives of those fewsemi-brutes, returning thus a few years earlier to the clay from whichthey sprang, compared with the regeneration of a world?.... And it wouldbe over in a few minutes more, and that black writhing heap be still forever, and the curtain fall .... And then for Venus Anadyomene, and art,and joy, and peace, and the graceful wisdom and beauty of the old Greekart, calming and civilising all hearts, and softening them into puredevotion for the immortal myths, the immortal deities, who had inspiredtheir forefathers in the glorious days of old.... But still the blackheap writhed; and she looked away, up, down, and round, everywhere, toavoid the sickening sight; and her eye caught Philammon's gazing at herwith looks of horror and disgust.... A thrill of shame rushed throughher heart, and blushing scarlet, she sank her head, and whispered toOrestes--

  'Have mercy!--spare the rest!'

  'Nay, fairest vestal! The mob has tasted blood, and they must havetheir fill of it, or they will turn onus for aught I know. Nothing sodangerous as to check a brute, whether he be horse, dog, or man, whenonce his spirit is up. Ha! there is a fugitive! How well the littlerascal runs!'

  As he spoke, a boy, the only survivor, leaped from the stage, and rushedacross the orchestra toward them, followed by a rough cur-dog.

  'You shall have this youth, if he reaches us.'

  Hypatia watched breathless. The boy had just arrived at the altar inthe centre of the orchestra, when he saw a gladiator close upon him.The ruffian's arm was raised to strike, when, to the astonishment of thewhole theatre, boy and dog turned valiantly to bay, and leaping onthe gladiator, dragged him between them to the ground. The triumph wasmomentary. The uplifted hands, the shout of 'Spare him!' came too late.The man, as he lay, buried his sword in the slender body of the child,and then rising, walked coolly back to the side passages, while the poorcur stood over the little corpse, licking its hands and face, and makingthe whole building ring with his doleful cries. The attendants entered,and striking their hooks into corpse after corpse, dragged them out ofsight, marking their path by long red furrows in the sand; while thedog followed, until his inauspicious howlings died away down distantpassages.

  Philammon felt sick and giddy, and half rose to escape. But Pelagia!....No--he must sit it out, and see the worst, if worse than this waspossible. He looked round. The people were coolly sipping wine andeating cakes, while they chatted admirably about the beauty of the greatcurtain, which had fallen and hidden the stage, and represented, ona ground of deep-blue sea, Europa carried by the bull across theBosphorus, while Nereids and Tritons played around.

  A single flute within the curtain began to send forth luscious strains,deadened and distant, as if through far-off glens and woodlands; andfrom the side passages issued three Graces, led by Peitho, the goddessof persuasion, bearing a herald's staff in her hand. She advanced to thealtar in the centre of the orchestra, and informed the spectatorsthat, during the absence of Ares in aid of a certain great militaryexpedition, which was shortly to decide the diadem of Rome, and theliberty, prosperity, and supremacy of Egypt and Alexandria, Aphroditehad returned to her lawful allegiance, and submitted for the time beingto the commands of her husband, Hephaestus; that he, as the deity ofartificers, felt a peculiar interest in the welfare of the city ofAlexandria, the workshop of the world, and had, as a sign of hisespecial favour, prevailed upon his fair spouse to exhibit, for thisonce, her beauties to the assembled populace, and, in the unspokenpoetry of motion, to represent to them the emotions with which, as shearose new-born from the sea, she first surveyed that fair expanse ofheaven and earth of which she now reigned undisputed queen.

  A shout of rapturous applause greeted this announcement, and forthwithlimped from the opposite slip the lame deity himself, hammer and pincerson shoulder, followed by a train of gigantic Cyclops, who bore on theirshoulders various pieces of gilded metal work.

  Hephaestus, who was intended to supply the comic element in the vastpantomimic pageant, shambled forward with studied uncouthness, amidroars of laughter; surveyed the altar with ludicrous contempt; raisedhis mighty hammer, shivered it to pieces with a single blow, andbeckoned to his attendants to carry off the fragments, and replace itwith something more fitting for his august spouse.

  With wonderful quickness the metal open-work was put in its place, andfitted together, forming a frame of coral branches intermingled withdolphins, Nereids, and Tritons. Four gigantic Cyclops then approached,staggering under the weight of a circular slab of green marble, polishedto a perfect mirror, which they placed on the framework. The Graceswreathed its circumference with garlands of sea-weed, shells, andcorallines, and the mimic sea was complete.

  Peitho and the Graces retired a few steps, and grouped themselves withthe Cyclops, whose grimed and brawny limbs, and hideous one-eyedmasks, threw out in striking contrast the delicate hue and grace of thebeautiful maiden figures; while Hephaestus turned toward the curtain,and seemed to await impatiently the forthcoming of the goddess.

  Every lip was breathless with expectation as the flutes swelled louderand nearer; horns and cymbals took up the harmony; and, to a triumphantburst of music, the curtain rose, and a simultaneous shout of delightburst from ten thousand voices.

  The scene behind represented a magnificent temple, half hidden in anartificial wood of tropic trees and shrubs, which filled the stage.Fauns and Dryads peeped laughing from among their stems, and gorgeousbirds, tethered by unseen threads, fluttered and sang among theirbranches. In the centre an overarching avenue of palms led from thetemple doors to the front of the stage, from which the mimic battlementshad disappeared, and had been replaced, in those few moments, by a broadslope of smooth greensward, leading down into the orchestra, and fringedwith myrtles, roses, apple-trees, poppies, and crimson hyacinths,stained with the life-blood of Adonis.

  The folding doors of the temple opened slowly, the crash of instrumentsresounded from within; and, preceded by the musicians, came forth thetriumph of Aphrodite, and passed down the slope, and down the outer ringof the orchestra.

  A splendid car, drawn by white oxen, bore the rarest and gaudiest offoreign flowers and fruits, which young girls, dressed as Hours andSeasons, strewed in front of the procession and among the spectators.

  A long line of beautiful youths and maidens, crowned with garlands,and robed in scarfs of purple gauze, followed by two and two. Each paircarried or led a pair of wild animals, captives of the conquering mightof Beauty.

  Foremost were borne, on the wrists of the actors, the birds especiallysacred to the goddess--doves and sparrows, wrynecks and swallows; and apair of gigantic Indian tortoises, each ridden by a lovely nymph, showedthat Orestes had not forgotten one wish, at least, of his intendedbride.

  Then followed strange birds from India, parakeets, peacocks, pheasantssilver and golden; bustards and ostriches: the latter, bestridden eachby a tiny cupid, were led on in golden leashes, followed by antelopesand oryxes, elks from beyond the Danube, four-horned rams from the Islesof the Hyperborean Ocean, and the strange hybrid of the Libyan hills,believed by all spectators to be half-bull half-horse. And then a murmurof delighted awe ran through the theatre, as bears and leopards, lionsand tigers, fettered in heavy chains of gold, and made gentle for theoccasion by narcotics, paced sedately down the slope, obedient totheir beautiful guides; while behind them, the unwieldy bulk of twodouble-horned rhinoceroses, from the far south, was overtopped by thelong slender necks and large soft eyes of a pair of giraffes, such ashad not been seen in Alexandria for more than fifty years.


  A cry arose of 'Orestes! Orestes! Health to the illustrious Prefect!Thanks for his bounty!' And a hired voice or two among the crowdcried, 'Hail to Orestes! Hail, Emperor of Africa!'.... But there was noresponse.

  'The rose is still in the bud,' simpered Orestes to Hypatia. He rose,beckoned and bowed the crowd into silence; and then, after a shortpantomimic exhibition of rapturous gratitude and humility, pointedtriumphantly to the palm avenue, among the shadows of which appearedthe wonder of the day--the huge tusks and trunk of the white elephanthimself.

  There it was at last! Not a doubt of it! A real elephant, and yet aswhite as snow. Sight never seen before in Alexandria--never to be seenagain! 'Oh, thrice blest men of Macedonia!' shouted some worthy onhigh, 'the gods are bountiful to you this day!' And all mouths and eyesconfirmed the opinion, as they opened wider and yet wider to drink inthe inexhaustible joy and glory.

  On he paced solemnly, while the whole theatre resounded to his heavytread, and the Fauns and Dryads fled in terror. A choir of nymphs swunground him hand in hand, and sang, as they danced along, the conqueringmight of Beauty, the tamer of beasts and men and deities. Skirmishingparties of little winged cupids spread themselves over the orchestra,from left to right, and pelted the spectators with perfumed comfits,shot among them from their tiny bows arrows of fragrant sandal-wood, orswung smoking censers, which loaded the air with intoxicating odours.

  The procession came on down the slope, and the elephant approached thespectators; his tusks were wreathed with roses and myrtles; his earswere pierced with splendid earrings, a jewelled frontlet hung betweenhis eyes; Eros himself, a lovely winged boy, sat on his neck, and guidedhim with the point of a golden arrow. But what precious thing wasit which that shell-formed car upon his back contained? The goddess!Pelagia Aphrodite herself?

  Yes; whiter than the snow-white elephant--more rosy than the pink-tippedshell in which she lay, among crimson cushions and silver gauze, thereshone the goddess, thrilling all hearts with those delicious smiles, andglances of the bashful playful eyes, and grateful wavings of her tinyhand, as the whole theatre rose with one accord, and ten thousand eyeswere concentrated on the unequalled loveliness beneath them.

  Twice the procession passed round the whole circumference of theorchestra, and then returning from the foot of the slope towards thecentral group around Hephaestus, deployed right and left in front of thestage. The lions and tigers were led away into the side passages; theyouths and maidens combined themselves with the gentler animals intogroups lessening gradually from the centre to the wings, and stoodexpectant, while the elephant came forward, and knelt behind theplatform destined for the goddess.

  The valves of the shell closed. The Graces unloosed the fastenings ofthe car. The elephant turned his trunk over his back, and, guided bythe hands of the girls, grasped the shell, and lifting it high in air,deposited it on the steps at the back of the platform.

  Hephaestus limped forward, and, with his most uncouth gestures,signified the delight which he had in bestowing such a sight upon hisfaithful artisans of Alexandria, and the unspeakable enjoyment whichthey were to expect from the mystic dance of the goddess; and thenretired, leaving the Graces to advance in front of the platform,and with their arms twined round each other, begin Hypatia's song ofinvocation.

  As the first strophe died away, the valves of the shell reopened, anddiscovered Aphrodite crouching on one knee within. She raised her head,and gazed around the vast circle of seats. A mild surprise was on hercountenance, which quickened into delightful wonder, and bashfulnessstruggling with the sense of new enjoyment and new powers. She glanceddownward at herself; and smiled, astonished at her own loveliness; thenupward at the sky; and seemed ready, with an awful joy, to spring upinto the boundless void. Her whole figure dilated; she seemed to drinkin strength from every object which met her in the great universearound; and slowly, from among the shells and seaweeds, she rose toher full height, the mystic cestus glittering round her waist, in deepfestoons of emeralds and pearls, and stepped forward upon the marblesea-floor, wringing the dripping perfume from her locks, as Aphroditerose of old.

  For the first minute the crowd was too breathless with pleasure to thinkof applause. But the goddess seemed to require due homage; and when shefolded her arms across her bosom, and stood motionless for an instant,as if to demand the worship of the universe, every tongue was loosed,and a thunder-clap of 'Aphrodite!' rang out across the roofs ofAlexandria, and startled Cyril in his chamber at the Serapeium, andweary muleteers on distant sand-hills, and dozing mariners far out atsea.

  And then began a miracle of art, such as was only possible among apeople of the free and exquisite physical training, and the delicateaesthetic perception of those old Greeks, even in their most fallendays. A dance, in which every motion was a word, and rest as eloquent asmotion; in which every attitude was a fresh motive for a sculptor of thepurest school, and the highest physical activity was manifested, notas in the coarser comic pantomimes, in fantastic bounds and unnaturaldistortions, but in perpetual delicate modulations of a stately andself-restraining grace. The artist was for the moment transformed intothe goddess. The theatre, and Alexandria, and the gorgeous pageantbeyond, had vanished from her imagination, and therefore from theimagination of the spectators, under the constraining inspiration ofher art, and they and she alike saw nothing but the lonely sea aroundCytherea, and the goddess hovering above its emerald mirror, sayingforth on sea, and air, and shore, beauty, and joy, and love....

  Philammon's eyes were bursting from his head with shame and horror: andyet he could not hate her; not even despise her. He would have done so,had there been the faintest trace of human feeling in her countenance toprove that some germ of moral sense lingered within: but even the faintblush and the downcast eye with which she had entered the theatre weregone; and the only expression on her face was that of intense enjoymentof her own activity and skill, and satisfied vanity, as of a pettedchild.... Was she accountable? A reasonable soul, capable of right orwrong at all? He hoped not .... He would trust not.... And still Pelagiadanced on; and for a whole age of agony, he could see nothing in heavenor earth but the bewildering maze of those white feet, as they twinkledover their white image in the marble mirror.... At last it wasover. Every limb suddenly collapsed, and she stood drooping in softself-satisfied fatigue, awaiting the burst of applause which rangthrough Philammon's ears, proclaiming to heaven and earth, as with amighty trumpet-blast, his sister's shame.

  The elephant rose, and moved forward to the side of the slabs. His backwas covered with crimson cushions, on which it seemed Aphrodite wasto return without her shell. She folded her arms across her bosom, andstood smiling, as the elephant gently wreathed his trunk around herwaist, and lifted her slowly from the slab, in act to place her on hisback....

  The little feet, clinging half fearfully together, had Just risen fromthe marble-The elephant started, dropped his delicate burden heavily onthe slab, looked down, raised his forefoot, and throwing his trunk intothe air, gave a shrill scream of terror and disgust....

  The foot was red with blood--the young boy's blood--which was soakingand bubbling up through the fresh sand where the elephant had trodden,in a round, dark, purple spot....

  Philammon could bear no more. Another moment and he had hurled downthrough the dense mass of spectators, clearing rank after rank ofseats by the sheer strength of madness, leaped the balustrade intothe orchestra below, and rushed across the space to the foot of theplatform.

  'Pelagia! Sister! My sister! Have mercy on me! on yourself! I will hideyou! save you! and we will flee together out of this infernal place!this world of devils! I am your brother! Come!'

  She looked at him one moment with wide, wild eyes--The truth flashed onher--

  'Brother!'

  And she sprang from the platform into his arms.... A vision of a loftywindow in Athens, looking out over far olive-yards and gardens, and thebright roofs and basins of the Piraeus, and the broad blue sea, with thepurple peaks of Aegina beyond all....
And a dark-eyed boy, with hisarm around her neck, pointed laughing to the twinkling masts in the farharbour, and called her sister.... The dead soul woke within her; andwith a wild cry she recoiled from him in an agony of shame, and coveringher face with both her hands, sank down among the blood-stained sand.

  A yell, as of all hell broke loose, rang along that vast circle--

  'Down with him!' 'Away with him!' 'Crucify the slave!' 'Give thebarbarian to the beasts!' 'To the beasts with him, noble Prefect!' Acrowd of attendants rushed upon him, and many of the spectators sprangfrom their seats, and were on the point of leaping down into theorchestra.

  Philammon turned upon them like a lion at bay; and clear and loud hisvoice rose through the roar of the multitude.

  'Ay! murder me as the Romans murdered Saint Telemachus! Slaves asbesotted and accursed as your besotted and accursed tyrants! Lower thanthe beasts whom you employ as your butchers! Murder and lust go fitlyhand in hand, and the throne of my sister's shame is well built on theblood of innocents! Let my death end the devil's sacrifice, and fill upthe cup of your iniquity!'

  'To the beasts!' 'Make the elephant trample him to powder!'

  And the huge brute, goaded on by the attendants, rushed on the youth,while Eros leaped from his neck, and fled weeping up the slope.

  He caught Philammon in his trunk and raised him high in air. For aninstant the great bellowing ocean of heads spun round and round. Hetried to breathe one prayer, and shut his eyes--Pelagia's voice rangsweet and clear, even in the shrillness of intense agony--

  'Spare him! He is my brother! Forgive him, men of Macedonia! ForPelagia's sake-- Your Pelagia! One boon--only this one!'

  And she stretched her arms imploringly toward the spectators, and thenclasping the huge knees of the elephant, called madly to it in terms ofpassionate entreaty and endearment.

  The men wavered. The brute did not. Quietly he lowered his trunk, andset down Philammon on his feet. The monk was saved. Breathless anddizzy, he found himself hurried away by the attendants, dragged throughdark passages, and hurled out into the street, with curses, warnings,and congratulations, which fell on an unheeding ear.

  But Pelagia kept her face still hidden in her hands, and rising, walkedslowly back, crushed by the weight of some tremendous awe, across theorchestra, and up the slope; and vanished among the palms and oleanders,regardless of the applause and entreaties, and jeers, and threats, andcurses, of that great multitude of sinful slaves.

  For a moment all Orestes's spells seemed broken by this unexpectedcatastrophe. A cloud, whether of disgust or of disappointment, hung uponevery brow. More than one Christian rose hastily to depart, touched withreal remorse and shame at the horrors of which they had been the willingwitnesses. The common people behind, having glutted their curiosity withall that there was to see, began openly to murmur at the cruelty andheathenry of it. Hypatia, utterly unnerved, hid her face in both herhands. Orestes alone rose with the crisis. Now, or never, was the timefor action; and stepping forward, with his most graceful obeisance,waved his hand for silence, and began his well-studied oration.

  'Let me not, O men of Macedonia, suppose that you can be disturbed fromthat equanimity which befits politicians, by so light an accident asthe caprice of a dancer. The spectacle which I have had the honour anddelight of exhibiting to you--(Roars and applause from the liberatedprisoners and the young gentlemen)--and on which it seemed to me youhave deigned to look with not altogether unkindly eyes--(Fresh applause,in which the Christian mob, relenting, began to join)--is but a pleasantprelude to that more serious business for which I have drawn you heretogether. Other testimonials of my good intentions have not been wantingin the release of suffering innocence, and in the largess of food, thegrowth and natural property of Egypt, destined by your late tyrants topamper the luxury of a distant court.... Why should I boast?--yet evennow this head is weary, these limbs fail me, worn out in ceaselessefforts for your welfare, and in the perpetual administration of thestrictest justice. For a time has come in which the Macedonian race,whose boast is the gorgeous city of Alexander, must rise again to thepolitical pre-eminence which they held of old, and becoming once morethe masters of one-third of the universe, be treated by their rulersas freemen, citizens, heroes, who have a right to choose and to employtheir rulers--Rulers, did I say? Let us forget the word, and substitutein its place the more philosophic term of ministers. To be yourminister--the servant of you all--To sacrifice myself, my leisure,health, life, if need be, to the one great object of securing theindependence of Alexandria--This is my work, my hope, my glory--longedfor through weary years: now for the first time possible by the fallof the late puppet Emperor of Rome. Men of Macedonia, remember thatHonorius reigns no more! An African sits on the throne of the Caesars!Heraclian, by one decisive victory, has gained, by the favour of--ofHeaven, the imperial purple; and a new era opens for the world. Let theconqueror of Rome balance his account with that Byzantine court, so longthe incubus of our Trans-Mediterranean wealth and civilisation; and leta free, independent, and united Africa rally round the palaces anddocks of Alexandria, and find there its natural centre of polity and ofprosperity.'

  A roar of hired applause interrupted him and not a few, half for thesake of his compliments and fine words, half from a natural wish to beon the right side--namely, the one which happened to be in the ascendantfor the time being--joined.... The city authorities were on the pointof crying, 'Imperator Orestes,' but thought better of it; and waited forsome one else to cry first--being respectable. Whereon the Prefectof the Guards, being a man of some presence of mind, and also not inanywise respectable, pricked up the Prefect of the docks with the pointof his dagger, and bade him, with a fearful threat, take care how heplayed traitor. The worthy burgher roared incontinently--whether withpain or patriotism; and the whole array of respectabilities--havingfound a Curtius who would leap into the gulf, joined in unanimouschorus, and saluted Orestes as Emperor; while Hypatia, amid the shoutsof her aristocratic scholars, rose and knelt before him, writhinginwardly with shame and despair, and entreated him to accept thattutelage of Greek commerce, supremacy, and philosophy which was forcedon him by the unanimous voice of an adoring people....

  'It is false!' shouted a voice from the highest tiers, appropriatedto the women of the lower classes, which made all turn their heads inbewilderment.

  'False! false! you are tricked! He is tricked! Heraclian was utterlyrouted at Ostia, and is fled to Carthage, with the emperor's fleet inchase.'

  'She lies! Drag the beast down!' cried Orestes, utterly thrown off hisbalance by the sudden check.

  'She? He! I, a monk, brought the news! Cyril has known it--every Jew inthe Delta has known it, for a week past! So perish all the enemies ofthe Lord, caught in their own snare!'

  And bursting desperately through the women who surrounded him, the monkvanished.

  An awful silence fell on all who heard. For a minute every man looked inhis neighbour's face as if he longed to cut his throat, and get rid ofone witness, at least, of his treason. And then arose a tumult, whichOrestes in vain attempted to subdue. Whether the populace believed themonk's words or not, they were panic-stricken at the mere possibilityof their truth. Hoarse with denying, protesting, appealing, the would-beemperor had at last to summon his guards around him and Hypatia, andmake his way out of the theatre as best he could; while the multitudemelted away like snow before the rain, and poured out into the streetsin eddying and roaring streams, to find every church placarded by Cyrilwith the particulars of Heraclian's ruin.