XVI
The city of Milan lay basking in the sun; and by every street thecrowd was turning its steps towards the chief public square.
Tremendous acclamations ran through the throng, and in the triumphantchariot, drawn by twenty horses white as swans, appeared the Emperor.His chariot seat was so lofty that the people were obliged to throwtheir heads back to behold him. His robes, besown with preciousstones, sparkled dazzlingly in the sun. In his right hand he held thesceptre, in the left the Imperial globe crested by a cross.
Motionless as a statue, outrageously painted, he looked straightbefore him without turning his head, which was held stiff as in avice. During the whole journey, and despite the joltings of the car,the Emperor stirred not a finger, nor coughed, nor blinked the steadystare of his eyes.
Constantius had acquired this immobility by years of effort, and wasparticularly proud of it, considering it an indispensable part ofImperial etiquette. On such occasions he would have preferred toundergo torture rather than betray his mortal nature by sneezing,coughing, or wiping off the sweat which stood in beads on hisforehead.
Although squat and bow-legged he imagined himself gigantic. When thechariot disappeared under the arch of triumph, not far from the bathsof Maximian Hercules, the Emperor bowed his head as if he were afraidof striking his head against the lofty gates which would have freelytaken a Cyclops beneath them.
Each side of the road was lined with palatine guards helmeted andcuirassed in gold, the two ranks of the bodyguard flashing in the sunlike streams of lightning.
Round the Imperial chariot great dragon-shaped standards werefloating. The purple stuff, swollen by the wind engulfed in thegullets of the monsters, gave out a shrill sound like the hiss ofsnakes, and the long purple tails of the dragons wavered to and froabove the people. In the Forum were drawn up all the legions quarteredin Milan. Thunders of applause welcomed the Emperor. Constantius waspleased. The noise had neither been too feeble nor too tumultuous.Arranged beforehand according to the strictest etiquette, the soldiershad been instructed to be enthusiastic with moderation and respect.
Giving each of his motions a kind of stiff and pedantic emphasis,Constantius solemnly descended from the chariot and went up to thetribune raised above the square. It was draped with ragged standardsof old victories and studded with metal eagles.
The trumpets sounded up anew in the call denoting that the leaderdesired to speak to his army. The Forum was instantly hushed.
"_Optimi reipublicae defensores!_" began Constantius. (Excellentdefenders of the Republic.)
The discourse was long-winded, tedious, full of scholastic flowers ofrhetoric.
Julian in Court dress now ascended the steps of the tribune, and thefratricide invested the last descendant of Constantius Chlorus withthe sacred purple of the Caesars.
The sunlight filtered through the thin silk when the Emperor raisedthe purple to enrobe the kneeling Julian. The rich hue tinged the paleface of the new Caesar, who murmured inwardly the prophetic verse ofthe Iliad--
"Eyes closed by purple death and puissant Destiny...."
And nevertheless Constantius was welcoming him:
"_Recepisti primaevus originis tuae splendidum florem, amatissime mihiomnium frater._" (Still young, you have attained already the flower ofyour royal birth, most beloved of all my brothers!)
An enthusiastic roar rose from the legions. Constantius became rathergloomy; that shout had slightly exceeded the proper bounds. Julianmust have pleased the soldiers.
"Glory and prosperity to Caesar Julian!" They cheered louder andlouder, till it seemed as if they would never cease.
The new Caesar thanked the legionaries with a kindly smile, and everysoldier clashed his buckler against his knee as a sign of rejoicing.
It seemed to Julian that it was not by the will of the Emperor, but bythe will of the gods, that he had reached this eminence.
* * * * *
Every evening Constantius was in the habit of consecrating a quarterof an hour to the polishing of his nails. It was one of the few toiletdelicacies that he permitted himself, being sober, unimaginative, andrather gross than effeminate in all his habits. Paring his nails withlittle files, polishing them with minute brushes, he gaily asked hisfavourite eunuch, the grand chamberlain Eusebius, on the evening ofthe day of investiture--
"How soon do you think will Julian conquer the Gauls?"
"I think," answered Eusebius, "that the next news we shall receivewill be of the defeat and death of that young man!"
"Really?--that would give me much pain! But I have done, don't youthink, everything that lay in my power.... Henceforth he has onlyhimself to blame...."
Constantius smiled, and bowing his head admired his nails.
"You have conquered Magnentius," murmured the eunuch, "you haveconquered Vetranio, Constans, Gallus. You will conquer Julian. Thenthere will be but one shepherd, one flock, God and you alone."
"Yes, yes. But, putting Julian on one side, there is still Athanasius.I shall never be happy until, living or dead, he shall have falleninto my hands."
"Julian is more to be feared than Athanasius, and you have investedhim to-day in the purple of death. Oh, wisdom of Providence,destroying by inscrutable means all the enemies of Your Eternity!Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, now andduring the night of ages!"
"Amen," concluded the Emperor, having finished the toilet of his nailsand thrown away the last minute brush. He approached the ancientbanner of Constantine, the Labarum, which stood always in thesleeping-chamber, knelt down, and contemplating the monogram of Christwhich shone in the flicker of the still-burning lamp, began hisprayers. He accomplished exactly the prescribed number of salves andsigns of the cross, addressing God with an imperturbable faith, asone who never doubts his own worth and acceptability.
The three-quarters of an hour of devotions having elapsed, Constantiusarose with a light heart. Eunuchs undressed him. He lay down on anImperial couch propped by cherubim of silver on outspread wings, andfell asleep in placid innocence with a child like smile on his lips.
The Death of the Gods Page 17