V
From the Arian basilica Julian returned to Macellum, and got out hislittle galley which he had prepared for this special occasion; andlearning that Eutropius, after the Mass, had gone a journey of severaldays, the boy slipped through the barred gates of the fortress, andran to the temple of Aphrodite, close to the church of St. Maurice.The sacred wood of the goddess bordered the Christian cemetery.Endless hostilities, debates, wranglings, and even lawsuits, were keptup between these two temples. The Christians begged for thedestruction of the Pagan shrine; Olympiodorus, the sacrificing priest,on the other hand, complained that the custodians of the basilica bynight would secretly cut down ancient cypresses in the sacred wood,and dig graves for Christians in the soil belonging to Aphrodite.
Into the wood Julian wound his way; a warm breeze blew softly on hischeek. In the afternoon heat the grey and fibrous bark of thecypresses trickled with thick resinous tears. To Julian the duskseemed perfumed by the very breath of the goddess.
The white bodies of statues stood up in sharp relief against the richshadow of trees. An Eros there had been maimed by some custodian ofthe basilica, who had rudely smashed off its marble bow. The weapon ofthe little winged Love-god, together with his hands, lay in deep grassat the foot of the pedestal. But although one-armed, the mischievousboy continued to take aim, and a mad smile of malice still flutteredon his lips.
Julian entered the house of the priest, Olympiodorus. Its rooms weresmall but comfortable, and rather bare than luxurious. There wasneither carpet nor silver dish to be seen; the floors and furniturewere of wood, and the vessels of clay. But everything bore the stampof taste. The handle of the kitchen lamp was a marvellous little workof art representing Neptune with his trident; the bold outlines ofearthen jars, full of olive oil, won the admiration of Julian; andalong the walls ran light frescoes, water nymphs mounted onsea-unicorns; and dancing women, clothed in the long robe of votariesof Pallas Athene, hovered along in graceful scroll-work.
The little house stood all smiling in its bath of sunshine. Nereids,dancers, sea-unicorns, the Neptune on the lamp, and the inmates of thehouse, all seemed folk cheerful by nature, guiltless of ugliness, ofmalice or spleen. A couple of dozen olives, some white bread, a bunchof grapes, some wine and water, these were enough to turn the littlemeal into a feast, and Diophane, the wife of Olympiodorus, had in facttied a wreath of laurel to the door to mark that very day a feast-day.
Julian went into the little garden of the atrium. Under the blue sky ajet of water pulsed into the air, and in the midst of narcissus,acanthus-blossom, tulips, and myrrh, rose a bronze Hermes, winged andsmiling like the rest of the cottage, and poised in the act of takingflight. Above the flowers, butterflies and bees playing in thesunshine chased each other, and in the shade of the porch Olympiodorusand his daughter Amaryllis, a pretty girl of some seventeen springs,were playing the Greek game of _kottabos_. On a slender column fixedin the earth, and oscillating like the scale of a balance, lay alittle beam, which bore, slung from each end, a cup; under each cupstood an amphora full of water, crowned by a statuette in metal. Thegame consisted in throwing from a certain distance a few drops ofwine, in as high a curve as possible, into one of the little cups,which, thus suddenly weighted, would descend and strike the statuette.
"Play, play; it is your turn!" cried Amaryllis.
"One, two, three!" Olympiodorus threw the contents of his goblet, andmissed.
He burst out into a boyish laugh. It was strange to see the tallgrey-headed man so wholly absorbed in his game.
The young girl, with a charming movement of her bare arm, threw backher mauve tunic and in her turn flung the liquid. The little cup ofthe _kottabos_ rang upon the statuette. Amaryllis began laughing andclapping her hands. Suddenly, on the threshold they saw Julian, andboth rushed to welcome him. Amaryllis cried--
"Diophane! where art thou? Come and see what guest we've got to-day.Quick, quick!"
Diophane ran from the kitchen.
"Julian, my darling child!... Don't you think he is grown thinner? Howlong it is since we have seen you!..."
And she added, radiant with good humour--
"You may well be merry, children, for this evening we shall have areal feast. I'm going to prepare crowns of fresh roses; I shall frythree perch, and make you cakes of gingerbread!"
At this moment a young slave accosted Olympiodorus and whispered inhis ear that a rich patrician lady of Caesarea wished to see him,having something to discuss with the priest of Aphrodite.
Olympiodorus followed the slave. Julian and Amaryllis went on with thegame of _kottabos_. Presently a little twelve-year-old girl came shylyup to them. It was Psyche, the pale fair-haired and youngest child ofOlympiodorus. She had great sad blue eyes, and, alone in the house,seemed a stranger to the cult of Aphrodite, and apart from the generalgaiety. Keeping aloof from the rest, she would remain musing whileothers were laughing, and nobody knew what made her sad, or what gaveher pleasure. Her father pitied her as one incurably sick, ruined bythe evil eye or by the witchcrafts of his eternal enemies theGalileans, who had carried off the soul of his child in revenge.
The dark Amaryllis was the favourite daughter of Olympiodorus: but themother secretly spoiled Psyche, and loved with jealous passion thedelicate child whose inner life was hidden from her. Psyche, unknownto her father, and in despite of the caresses, prayers, and even thethreats of her mother, used to attend the basilican church of St.Maurice. Anguished on discovering this, the priest of Venus hadrenounced Psyche; and when her name was mentioned, his brow wouldcloud over with a bitter expression. He was sure that it was by reasonof the impiety of his child that the vine, once blessed by Aphrodite,produced fewer fruits than of yore; he believed that the little goldencrucifix worn on the child's neck had profaned the temple of theindignant goddess.
"Why do you go to that church?" Julian asked her one day.
"I don't know; it is comfortable there. Have you seen the GoodShepherd?"
"Yes, the Galilean! How did you know about Him?"
"Old Theodula told me. Ever since then I have gone to church; and,tell me, Julian, why do they all hate the Good Shepherd?"
At this moment Olympiodorus returned in triumph and narrated hisinterview with the patrician lady, a young girl whom her betrothed hadabandoned. She believed him bewitched by the amulets of a rival. Manya time had she gone to the Christian church and besought St. Mamaswith an aching heart, but neither fasts nor prostrations had snappedthe evil charm.
"As if the Christians could console her!" Olympiodorus contemptuouslyconcluded, throwing a keen glance at the attentive Psyche. "ThisChristian girl has now sought my help, and Aphrodite will heal her!"
He produced the two white pigeons, bound together, which the Christianhad begged him to offer as a sacrifice to the goddess of love.Amaryllis took the little creatures in her hand, and kissed their rosybeaks, declaring that it would be a thousand pities to kill them.
"Father, we will offer them to the goddess without spilling a drop ofblood!"
"How? There can be no sacrifice without bloodshed."
"We will give them liberty. They shall fly away clean into heaven,straight to the footstool of Aphrodite. Is she not in the sky? Shewill accept them. Let me do this, darling father, I beg of you!"
Olympiodorus had not the heart to deny this entreaty; and the younggirl, unbinding the pigeons tossed them back to liberty. They fledaway into the sky with a delirious beating of white wings, making forthe footstool of Aphrodite. Shading his eyes with his hands the priestwatched the offering of the convert disappear into the clouds, whileAmaryllis danced with joy, crying--
"Aphrodite, Aphrodite, receive the gift!"
Olympiodorus went out. Julian, solemn-faced and timorous, approachedAmaryllis; his cheeks grew red, and his voice trembled as hepronounced the name of the young girl.
"Amaryllis, I have brought you----"
"Ah! I have long been going to ask you what it could be."
"It is a galley with three ban
ks of oars!"
"A galley! What do you mean?"
"A real Liburnian galley."
He immediately began to unroll his present, but suddenly aware thatAmaryllis was watching him, he felt ineffable shame, became confused,and with an imploring look at the damsel, slid the ship into the basinof the fountain.
"You see, Amaryllis ... it is a trireme ... a real trireme,with--with--sails ... and ... its rudder.... Look how well it getsunder way!"
But Amaryllis laughed heartily.
"What an odd boy you are! What in the world should I do with yourtrireme? I fear it wouldn't take me very far. It's a ship for mice andflies. Make a present of it to Psyche; she will be delighted with it."
Julian, though deeply hurt, assumed indifference, while tears chokedhis speech. Controlling himself, he said disdainfully, but withtrembling lips--
"I see that you don't understand anything ... about art."
Amaryllis laughed yet more heartily. To add insult to injury, asummons came for her to receive her betrothed, a rich merchant fromSamos, who dressed badly, perfumed his person, and spoke vile grammar.Julian hated him, and when he learnt of the arrival of the Samian, thecharm of the house vanished so far as he was concerned.
From the neighbouring room he could hear the distracting chatter ofAmaryllis and the voice of her lover.
Without uttering a word, and filled with cold hatred, Julian seizedhis cherished trireme--the real Liburnian trireme which had cost himsuch endless pains--and before the startled eyes of Psyche, snappedthe mast, tore down the sails, tangled the rigging, and stamped thetoy into atoms with his feet.
Amaryllis returned. Her face bore traces of a strange happiness, ofthat superfluity of life and love-joy which awakens in young girls animperious need to embrace and to kiss those near them.
"Julian ... forgive me ... I have pained you. Forgive me, dear! youknow well that I love you."
And before he had time to make up his mind, Amaryllis, throwing backher tunic, imprisoned his head in her fresh bare arms. A delightfuldread stopped the beating of Julian's heart; he saw her great darkdewy eyes so close to him, the sweet odour of her body so overwhelmedhim, and she locked him so close against her breast, that the boy grewgiddy. He closed his eyes and felt a kiss long, too long, pressed uponhis lips.
The voice of the Samian broke the enchantment--
"Amaryllis, Amaryllis! where art thou?"
Julian putting forth all his strength pushed the girl away, his heartoverflowed with pain and hatred, and crying, "Let me go, let me go!"snatched himself free and fled.
Deaf and heedless he escaped from the house through the vineyards andthe cypress wood; nor halted till he reached the temple of Aphrodite.Now and again he heard his name called, and the gay voice of Diophane,announcing that the cakes of gingerbread were ready; but he made noreply. Search was made for him. He lay in hiding in the thicket oflaurels at the feet of Eros. Accustomed to his fits of moroseness,they gave up the search, satisfied that he had returned to Macellum.
When all around was restored again to silence, Julian came out fromhis hiding-place and gazed at the temple of the goddess of love,lodged upon a gentle hill, and bare to view on all sides. The Ionicmarble columns, flooded with sunshine, were softly steeped in thewarmth of azure, receiving its ardent embraces with the cold purity ofsnow.
Each corner of the facade was surmounted by pedestalled griffins, withlifted talons, beaks gaping, and woman-shaped breasts, standing out,proud and austere, against the deep blue of the sky.
Julian went up the steps into the portico, pushed open the bronzedoors and penetrated the interior of the temple up to the very shrine,the _naos_.
Silence and coolness surrounded him. The setting sun overhead stillfell on the capitals of the columns, and their fine illuminedscroll-work, contrasted with the penumbral shadow on the floor of thetemple, seemed soft and bright as tresses of gold. A tripod, stillburning, diffused the odour of myrrh.
Julian, leaning against the wall, lifted his eyes in fear, restraininghis breath till it almost died upon his lips.
She, the goddess herself, was before him. Under the open sky, in themidst of the temple, stood, cold and white, new-born of the sea-foam,Aphrodite Anadyomene. With a smile she contemplated the heavens andthe sea, wondering at their charm; as if unwitting still that theirbeauty was her own beauty, glassed in the eternal mirrors of the azureand the waters. No raiment profaned her divine body. Naked and chasteshe rose, as the clear sky soaring above her.
Julian gazed on with an insatiate gaze, and felt quick thrills ofadoration sweep over his frame. The child, in his black monkish habit,knelt before Aphrodite, his face upturned, his hands pressed to hispalpitating little heart.
Then still aloof, still timorous, he sat at the foot of the column. Heleant his cheek against the marble. Peace sank slowly into his soul.He fell asleep.
But, even through that slumber, he was conscious of her presence.
She came down towards him, nearer, nearer.... Her delicate white handsstole round his neck. The boy with a smile submitted to thesepassionless endearments; the cold of the marble chilled his veryheart. That divine embrace bore no likeness to the wild clasp ofAmaryllis. The soul of Julian, freeing itself from earthly love,entered depths of repose, as into some ambrosial night of Homer, orthe sweet rest of the dead.
* * * * *
When Julian awoke it was night. Over the roofless quadrilateral starswere shining, and the crescent moon shedding her silver upon the headof the statue. Julian arose. Olympiodorus must have meanwhile beentending the temple, although he had either not observed or hadrefrained from waking the child; for now, on the bronze tripod, freshcharcoal was glowing, and a fillet of odorous smoke arising towardsthe goddess.
Julian smiling approached, and from the chrysolite cup, between thefeet of the tripod, took a few grains of incense and flung them on thecoals. Smoke rose more thickly, and the ruddy glow of the fire, like apale flush of life, came over the face of the statue, contending withthe soft new-born shine of the moon.
Julian bowed down and kissed the marble feet, and watered them withhis tears, exclaiming--
"Aphrodite! Aphrodite! thou shalt be my everlasting love!"
The Death of the Gods Page 6
