CHAPTER XII.
Melissa had supposed that, according to custom, the litter would becarried up the incline or the steps, and into the Serapeum by the greatdoor; but in consequence of the emperor's visit this could not be. Thesick man was borne round the eastern side of the huge building, whichcovered a space on which a whole village might have stood. The door atthe back, to the south, through which he was finally admitted, openedinto a gallery passing by the great quadrangle where sacrifice was made,and leading to the inner rooms of the temple, to the cubicles amongothers.
In these it was revealed to the sick in dreams by what means or remediesthey might hope to be healed: and there was no lack of priests tointerpret the visions, nor of physicians who came hither to watchpeculiar cases, to explain to the sufferers the purport of the counselof the gods--often very dark--or to give them the benefit of their own.
One of these, a friend of Ptolemaeus, who, though he had been secretlybaptized, still was one of the pastophori of the temple, was awaitingthe little party, and led the way as guide.
The bellowing of beasts met them on the very threshold. These were to beslaughtered at this early hour by the special command of Caracalla; and,as Caesar himself had promised to be present at the sacrificialrites, none but the priests or "Caesar's friends" were admitted to thecourt-yard. The litter was therefore carried up a staircase and througha long hall forming part of the library, with large windows lookingdown on the open place where the beasts were killed and the entrailsexamined. Diodoros saw and heard nothing, for the injury to the skullhad deprived him of all consciousness; Ptolemaeus, however, to sootheMelissa, assured her that he was sleeping soundly.
As they mounted the stairs she had kept close to her lover's side; buton this assurance she lingered behind and looked about her.
As the little procession entered the gallery, in which the rolls ofmanuscript lay in stone or wooden cases on long rows of shelves, theshout was heard of "Hail, Caesar!" mingling with a solemn chant, andannouncing the sovereign's approach.
At this the physician pointed to the court-yard, and said to the girl,whose beauty had greatly attracted him: "Look down there if you want tosee Caesar. We must wait here, at any rate, till the crowd has gone pastin the corridor beyond that door." And Melissa, whose feminine curiosityhad already tempted her to the window, looked down into the quadrangleand on to the steps down which a maniple of the praetorian guard weremarching, with noble Romans in togas or the uniform of legates, augurswearing wreaths, and priests of various orders. Then for a few minutesthe steps were deserted, and Melissa thought she could hear her ownheart beating, when suddenly the cry: "Hail, Caesar!" was again heard,loud trumpets rang out and echoed from the high stone walls whichsurrounded the inclosure, and Caracalla appeared on the broad marblesteps which led down into the court of sacrifice.
Melissa's eyes were riveted as if spell-bound on this figure, which wasneither handsome nor dignified, and which nevertheless had a strangeattraction for her, she knew not why. What was it in this man, whowas short rather than tall, and feeble rather than majestic, which soimperatively forbade all confident advances? The noble lion which walkedby his side, and in whose mane his left hand was buried, was not moreunapproachable than he. He called this terrible creature, which hetreated with as much familiarity as if it were a lapdog, his "Persiansword"; and as Melissa looked she remembered what fate might be in storefor her brother through this man, and all the crimes of which he wasaccused by the world--the murders of his brother, of his wife, and ofthousands besides.
For the first time in her life she felt that she could hate; she longedto bring down every evil on that man's head. The blood mounted to hercheeks, and her little fists were clinched, but she never took her eyesoff him; for everything in his person impressed her, if not as fine,still as exceptional--if not as great, still as noteworthy.
She knew that he was not yet thirty, but yesterday, as he drove pasther, he had looked like a surly misanthropist of more than middle age.To-day how young he seemed! Did he owe it to the laurel crown whichrested on his head, or to the white toga which fell about him in amplefolds, leaving only the sinewy arm bare by which he led the lion?
From where she stood she could only see his side-face as he came downthe steps, and indeed it was not ill-favored; brow, nose, and chin werefinely and nobly formed; his beard was thin, and a mustache curled overhis lips. His eyes, deeply set under the brows, were not visible to her,but she had not forgotten since yesterday their sinister and terriblescowl.
At this moment the lion crept closer to his master.
If only the brute should spring on that more blood-stained and terriblebeast of prey who could kill not only with claws and teeth but with aword from his lips, a wave of his hand!--the world would be rid of theferocious curse. Ay, his eye, which had yesterday scorned to look at themultitudes who had hailed his advent, was that of a cruel tyrant.
And then--she felt as if he must have guessed her thoughts--while hepatted the lion and gently pushed him aside he turned his face full onher, and she knew not whether to be pleased or angry, for the odious,squinting eyes were not now terrible or contemptuous; nay, they hadlooked kindly on the beast, and with a somewhat suffering expression.The dreadful face of the murderer was not hideous now, but engaging--theface of a youth enduring torments of soul or of body.
She was not mistaken. On the very next step Caracalla stood still,pressed his right hand to his temples, and set his lips as if to controlsome acute pain. Then he sadly shook his head and gazed up at the wallsof the court, which had been decorated in his honor with hangings andgarlands of flowers. First he studied the frieze and the festal displayon his right, and when he turned his head to look at the side whereMelissa stood, an inward voice bade her withdraw, that the gaze of thismonster might not blight her. But an irresistible attraction held herfast; then suddenly she felt as if the ground were sinking from underher feet, and, as a shipwrecked wretch snatches at a floating spar, sheclung to the little column at the left of the window, clutching it withher hand; for the dreadful thing had happened-Caracalla's eye had methers and had even rested on her for a while! And that gaze had nothingbloodthirsty in it, nor the vile leer which had sparkled in the eyesof the drunken rioters she had met last night in the streets; he onlylooked astonished as at some wonderful thing which he had not expectedto see in this place. But presently a fresh attack of pain apparentlymade him turn away, for his features betrayed acute suffering, as heslowly set his foot on the next step below.
Again, and more closely, he pressed his hand to his brow, and thenbeckoned to a tall, well-built man with flowing hair, who walked behindhim, and accepted the support of his offered arm.
"Theocritus, formerly an actor and dancer," the priest whispered toMelissa. "Caesar's whim made the mimic a senator, a legate, and afavorite."
But Melissa only knew that he was speaking, and did not take in thepurport of his speech; for this man, slowly descending the steps,absorbed her whole sympathy. She knew well the look of those who sufferand conceal it from the eyes of the world; and some cruel disease wascertainly consuming this youth, who ruled the earth, but whose purplerobes would be snatched at soon enough by greedy hands if he shouldcease to seem strong and able. And now, again, he looked old andworn--poor wretch, who yet was so young and born to be so abundantlyhappy! He was, to be sure, a base and blood-stained tyrant, but not theless a miserable and unhappy man. The more severe the pain he had toendure, the harder must he find it to hide it from the crowd who wereconstantly about him. There is but one antidote to hatred, and that ispity; it was with the eager compassion of a woman's heart thatMelissa marked every movement of the imperial murderer, as soon as sherecognized his sufferings, and when their eyes had met. Nothing nowescaped her keen glance which could add to her sympathy for the man shehad loathed but a minute before. She noticed a slight limp in hisgait and a convulsive twitching of his eyelids; his slender, almosttransparent hand, she reflected, was that of a sick man, and pain andfever, no
doubt, had thinned his hair, which had left many places bald.
And when the high--priest of Serapis and the augurs met him at thebottom of the steps and Caesar's eye again put on the cruel scowl ofyesterday, she would not doubt that it was stern self-command which gavehim that threatening glare, to seem terrible, in spite of his anguish,to those whose obedience he required. He had really needed hiscompanion's support as they descended the stair, that she could plainlysee; and she had observed, too, how carefully his guide had striven toconceal the fact that he was upholding him; but the courtier was tootall to achieve the task he had set himself. Now, she was much shorterthan Caesar, and she was strong, too. Her arm would have afforded him amuch better support.
But how could she think of such a thing?--she, the sister of Alexander,the betrothed of Diodoros, whom she truly loved!
Caesar mingled with the priests, and her guide told her that thecorridor was now free. She peeped into the litter, and, seeing thatDiodoros still slept, she followed him, lost in thought, and givingshort and heedless answers to Andreas and the physicians She had notlistened to the priest's information, and scarcely turned her head tolook out, when a tall, thin man with a bullet-head and deeply wrinkledbrow was pointed out to her as Macrinus, the prefect of the body-guard,the most powerful man in Rome next to Caesar; and then the "friends" ofCaracalla, whom she had seen yesterday, and the historian Dion Cassius,with other senators and members of the imperial train.
Now, as they made their way through halls and passages where the foot ofthe uninitiated rarely intruded, she looked about her with more interestwhen the priest drew her attention to some particularly fine statueor picture, or some symbolical presentment. Even now, however, thoughassociation with her brothers had made her particularly alive toeverything that was beautiful or curious, she glanced round with lessinterest than she otherwise might have done, for she had much else tothink of. In the first place, of the benefits Diodoros was to derivefrom the great Galen; then of her father, who this day must dispensewith her assistance; and, finally, of the state of mind of her gravebrother Philip. He and Alexander, who usually were such united friends,now both were in love with Agatha, and what could come of that? And fromtime to time her thoughts flew back to Caesar, and she felt as thoughsome tie, she knew not what, linked them together.
As soon as the litter had to be carried up or down steps, she kept aneye on the bearers, and gave such help as was needed when the sleeper'sposition was changed. Whenever she looked in his handsome face, flushedas it was by fever and framed in tumbled curls, her heart swelled, andshe felt that she had much to thank the gods for, seeing that herlover was so full of splendid youth and in no respect resembled theprematurely decrepit and sickly wearer of the purple. Nevertheless, shethought a good deal of Caracalla, and it even occurred to her once thatif it were he who was being carried instead of Diodoros, she would tendhim no less carefully than her betrothed. Caesar, who had been as farout of her ken as a god, and of whose overwhelming power she had heard,had suddenly come down to her. She involuntarily thought of him as oneof those few with whom she had come into personal contact, and inwhose weal or woe she had some sympathetic interest. He could not bealtogether evil and hardened. If he could only know what pain it causedher to see him suffer, he would surely command Zminis to abandon thepursuit of her brother.
Just as they were reaching the end of their walk, the trumpets rang outonce more, reminding her that she was under the same roof with him. Shewas so close to him--and yet how far he was from guessing the desires ofa heart which beat with compassion for him!
Several sick persons, eager for some communication from the gods, andsome who, without being sick, had slept in the Serapeum, had by thistime left their beds, and were taking counsel in the great hall withinterpreters and physicians. The bustle was like that of a market-place,and there was one old man with unkempt hair and fiery eyes who repeatedagain and again in a loud voice, "It was the god himself who appeared tome, and his three-headed dog licked my cheeks." And presently a hideousold woman plucked at Melissa's robe, whispering: "A healing draught foryour lover; tears from the eyes of the infant Horus. I have them fromIsis herself. The effect is rapid and certain. Come to Hezron, thedealer in balsams in the street of the Nekropolis. Your lover'srecovery--for five drachmae."
But Melissa, who was no stranger here since her mother's last sickness,went on without pausing, following the litter down the long hall fullof beds, a room with a stone roof resting on two rows of tall columns.Familiar to her too was the aromatic scent of kyphi,--[incense]--whichfilled the hall, although fresh air was constantly pouring in fromoutside through the high windows. Red and green curtains hung infront of them, and the subdued light which came through fell in tintedtwilight on the colored pictures in relief of the history of the gods,which covered the walls. Speech was forbidden here, and their steps fellnoiseless on the thick, heavy mats.
Most of the beds were already empty; only those between the long walland the nearest row of columns were still for the most part occupied bythe sick who sought the help of the god. On one of these Diodoros waslaid, Melissa helping in silence, and with such skill as delighted eventhe physicians. Still, this did not wake him, though on the next bed laya man who never ceased speaking, because in his dream he had been biddento repeat the name of Serapis as many times as there were drops in a cupof water filled from the Agathodaemon Canal.
"A long stay in this strong perfume will be bad for him," whisperedPtolemaeus to the freedman. "Galenus sent word that he would visit thesick early to-day; but he is not here yet. He is an old man, and inRome, they say, it is the custom to sleep late."
He was interrupted by a stir in the long hall, which broke in on thesilence, no one knew from whence; and immediately after, officious handsthrew open the great double doors with a loud noise.
"He is coming," whispered their priestly guide; and the instant afteran old man crossed the threshold, followed by a troop of pastophori, asobsequious as the courtiers at the heels of a prince.
"Gently, brothers," murmured the greatest physician of his age in a lowvoice, as, leaning on a staff, he went toward the row of couches. Itwas easy to see the traces of his eighty years, but his fine eyes stillgleamed with youthful light.
Melissa blushed to think that she could have mistaken Serenus Samonicusfor this noble old man. He must once have been a tall man; his backwas bent and his large head was bowed as though he were forever seekingsomething. His face was pale and colorless, with a well-formed noseand mouth, but not of classic mold. Blue veins showed through the clearwhite skin, and the long, silky, silvery hair still flowed in unthinnedwaves round his massive head, bald only on the crown. A snowy beard fellover his breast. His aged form was wrapped in a long and ample robeof costly white woolen stuff, and his whole appearance would have beenstriking for its peculiar refinement, even if the eyes had not sparkledwith such vivid and piercing keenness from under the thick brows, and ifthe high, smooth, slightly prominent forehead had not borne witness tothe power and profundity of his mind. Melissa knew of no one with whomto compare him; he reminded Andreas of the picture of John as an oldman, which a wealthy fellow-Christian had presented to the church ofSaint Mark.
If this man could do nothing, there was no help on earth. And howdignified and self-possessed were the movements of this bent old man ashe leaned on his staff! He, a stranger here, seemed to be showing theothers the way, a guide in his own realm. Melissa had heard that thestrong scent of the kyphi might prove injurious to Diodoros, and her onethought now was the desire that Galenus might soon approach his couch.He did not, in fact, begin with the sick nearest to the door, but stoodawhile in the middle of the hall, leaning against a column and surveyingthe place and the beds.
When his searching glance rested on that where Diodoros was lying, ananswering look met his with reverent entreaty from a pair of beautiful,large, innocent eyes. A smile parted his bearded lips, and going up tothe girl he said: "Where beauty bids, even age must obey. Your lover,child,
or your brother?"
"My betrothed," Melissa hastened to reply; and the maidenlyembarrassment which flushed her cheek became her so well that he added:
"He must have much to recommend him if I allow him to carry you off,fair maid."
With these words he went up to the couch, and looking at Diodoros as helay, he murmured, as if speaking to himself and without paying any heedto the younger men who crowded round him:
"There are no true Greeks left here; but the beauty of the ancestralrace is not easily stamped out, and is still to be seen in theirdescendants. What a head, what features, and what hair!"
Then he felt the lad's breast, shoulders, and arms, exclaiming in honestadmiration, "What a godlike form!"
He laid his delicate old hand, with its network of blue veins, on thesick man's forehead, again glanced round the room, and listened toPtolemaeus, who gave him a brief and technical report of the case; then,sniffing the heavy scent that filled the hall, he said, as the Christianleech ceased speaking:
"We will try; but not here--in a room less full of incense. This perfumebrings dreams, but no less surely induces fever. Have you no other roomat hand where the air is purer?"
An eager "Yes," in many voices was the reply; and Diodoros was forthwithtransferred into a small cubicle adjoining.
While he was being moved, Galenus went from bed to bed, questioning thechief physician and the patients. He seemed to have forgotten Diodorosand Melissa; but after hastily glancing at some and carefully examiningothers, and giving advice where it was needful, he desired to see thefair Alexandrian's lover once more.
As he entered the room he nodded kindly to the girl. How gladly wouldshe have followed him! But she said to herself that if he had wishedher to be present he would certainly have called her; so she modestlyawaited his return. She had to wait a long time, and the minutes seemedhours while she heard the voices of men through the closed door, themoaning and sighing of the sufferer, the splashing of water, and theclatter of metal instruments; and her lively imagination made her fancythat something almost unendurable was being done to her lover.
At last the physician came out. His whole appearance betokened perfectsatisfaction. The younger men, who followed him, whispered amongthemselves, shaking their heads as though some miracle had beenperformed; and every eye that looked on him was radiant withenthusiastic veneration. Melissa knew, as soon as his eyes met hers,that all was well, and as she grasped the old man's hand she concludedfrom its cool moisture that he had but just washed it, and had done withhis own hand all that Ptolemaeus had expected of his skill. Her eyeswere dim with grateful emotion, and though Galenus strove to hinderher from pressing her lips to his hand she succeeded in doing so;he, however, kissed her brow with fatherly delight in her warmheartedsweetness, and said:
"Now go home happy, my child. That stone had hit your lover's brain-roofa hard blow; the pressure of the broken beam--I mean a piece ofbone--had robbed him of his consciousness of what a sweet bride the godshave bestowed on him. But the knife has done its work; the beam is inits place again; the splinters which were not needed have been takenout; the roof is mended, and the pressure removed. Your friend hasrecovered consciousness, and I will wager that at this moment he isthinking of you and wishes you were with him. But for the present youhad better defer the meeting. For forty-eight hours he must remain inthat little room, for any movement would only delay his recovery."
"Then I shall stay here to nurse him," cried Melissa, eagerly. ButGalenus replied, decisively:
"That must not be if he is to get well. The presence of a woman for whomthe sufferer's heart is on fire is as certain to aggravate the fever asthe scent of incense. Besides, child, this is no place for such as you."
Her head drooped sadly, but he nodded to her cheeringly as he added:
"Ptolemaeus, who is worthy of your entire confidence, speaks of you asa girl of much sense, and you will surely not do anything to spoilmy work, which was not easy. However, I must say farewell; other sickrequire my care."
He held out his hand, but, seeing her eyes fixed on his and glitteringthrough tears, he asked her name and family. It seemed to him of goodaugury for the long hours before him which he must devote to Caesar,that he should, so early in the day, have met so pure and fair a flowerof girlhood.
When she had told him her own name and her father's, and also mentionedher brothers, Philip the philosopher, and Alexander the painter, whowas already one of the chief masters of his art here, Galenus answeredheartily:
"All honor to his genius, then, for he is the one-eyed king in the landof the blind. Like the old gods, who can scarce make themselves heardfor the new, the Muses too have been silenced. The many reallybeautiful things to be seen here are not new; and the new, alas! arenot beautiful. But your brother's work," he added, kindly, "may be theexception."
"You should only see his portraits!" cried Melissa.
"Yours, perhaps, among them?" said the old man, with interest. "That isa reminder I would gladly take back to Rome with me."
Alexander had indeed painted his sister not long before, and how gladshe was to be able to offer the picture to the reverend man to whom sheowed so much! So she promised with a blush to send it him as soon as sheshould be at home again.
The unexpected gift was accepted with pleasure, and when he thankedher eagerly and with simple heartiness, she interrupted him with theassurance that in Alexandria art was not yet being borne to the grave.Her brother's career, it was true, threatened to come to an untimelyend, for he stood in imminent danger. On this the old man--who had takenhis seat on a bench which the attendant physicians of the temple hadbrought forward-desired to know the state of the case, and Melissabriefly recounted Alexander's misdemeanor, and how near he had been,yesterday, to falling into the hands of his pursuers. Then she lookedup at the old man beseechingly; and as he had praised her beauty, sonow--she herself knew not how she had such courage--the praises of hisfame, his greatness and goodness, flowed from her lips. And her boldentreaties ended with a prayer that he would urge Caesar, who doubtlessrevered him as a father, to cease from prosecuting her brother.
The old man's face had grown graver and graver; he had several timesstroked his white beard with an uneasy gesture; and when, as she spokethe last words, she ventured to raise her timidly downcast eyes to his,he rose stiffly and said in regretful tones:
"How can I be vexed with a sister who knocks at any door to save abrother's life? But I would have given a great deal that it had not beenat mine. It is hard to refuse when I would so gladly accede, and yetso it must be; for, though Claudius Galenus does his best for BassianusAntoninus as a patient, as he does for any other, Bassianus the man andthe emperor is as far from him as fire from water; and so it must everbe during the short space of time which may yet be granted to him and meunder the light of the sun."
The last words were spoken in a bitter, repellent tone, and yetMelissa felt that it pained the old man to refuse her. So she earnestlyexclaimed:
"Oh, forgive me! How could I guess--" She suddenly paused and added,"Then you really think that Caesar has not long to live?"
She spoke with the most anxious excitement, and her question offendedGalenus. He mistook their purport, and his voice was wrathful as hereplied, "Long enough yet to punish an insult!"
Melissa turned pale. She fancied that she apprehended the meaningof these stern words, and, prompted by an earnest desire not to bemisunderstood by this man, she eagerly exclaimed:
"I do not wish him dead--no, indeed not; not even for my brother'ssake! But just now I saw him near, and I thought I could see that hewas suffering great pain. Why, we pity a brute creature when it is inanguish. He is still so young, and it must be so hard to die!"
Galenus nodded approvingly, and replied:
"I thank you, in the name of my imperial patient.--Well, send me yourportrait; but let it be soon, for I embark before sunset. I shall liketo remember you. As to Caesar's sufferings, they are so severe, yourtender soul would not wish
your worst enemy to know such pain. My arthas few means of mitigating them, and the immortals are little inclinedto lighten the load they have laid on this man. Of the millions whotremble before him, not one prays or offers sacrifice of his ownfree-will for the prosperity of the monarch."
A flash of enthusiasm sparkled in Melissa's eye, but Galenus did notheed it; he briefly bade her farewell and turned away to devote himselfto other patients.
"There is one, at any rate," thought she, as she looked after thephysician, "who will pray and sacrifice for that unhappy man. Diodoroswill not forbid it, I am sure."
She turned to Andreas and desired him to take her to her lover. Diodoroswas now really sleeping, and did not feel the kiss she breathed on hisfore head. He had all her love; the suffering criminal she only pitied.
When they had quitted the temple she pressed her hand to her bosom anddrew a deep breath as if she had just been freed from prison.
"My head is quite confused," she said, "by the heavy perfume and so muchanxiety and alarm; but O Andreas, my heart never beat with such joy andgratitude! Now I must collect my thoughts, and get home to do what isneedful for Philip. And merciful gods! that good-natured old Roman,Samonicus, will soon be expecting me at the Temple of Aphrodite; see howhigh the sun is already. Let us walk faster, for, to keep him waiting--"
Andreas here interrupted her, saying, "If I am not greatly mistaken,there is the Roman, in that open chariot, coming down the incline."
He was right; a few minutes later the chariot drew up close to Melissa,and she managed to tell Samonicus all that had happened in so courteousand graceful a manner that, far from being offended, he could wish everysuccess to the cure his great friend had begun. And indeed his promisehad somewhat weighed upon his mind, for to carry out two undertakingsin one day was too much, at his age, and he had to be present in theevening at a banquet to which Caesar had invited himself in the house ofSeleukus the merchant.
"The high-priest's brother?" asked Melissa, in surprise, for death hadbut just bereft that house of the only daughter.
"The same," said the Roman, gayly. Then he gave her his hand, with theassurance that the thought of her would make it a pleasure to rememberAlexandria.
As she clasped his hand, Andreas came up, bowed gravely, and askedwhether it would be overbold in him, as a faithful retainer of themaiden's family, to crave a favor, in her name, of Caesar's illustriousand familiar friend.
The Roman eyed Andreas keenly, and the manly dignity, nay, the defiantself-possession of the freedman--the very embodiment of all he hadexpected to find in a genuine Alexandrian--so far won his confidencethat he bade him speak without fear. He hoped to hear somethingsufficiently characteristic of the manners of the provincial capital tomake an anecdote for Caesar's table. Then, when he understood thatthe matter concerned Melissa's brother, and a distinguished artist, hesmiled expectantly. Even when he learned that Alexander was being hunteddown for some heedless jest against the emperor, he only threatenedMelissa sportively with his finger; but on being told that this jestdealt with the murder of Geta, he seemed startled, and the tone of hisvoice betrayed serious displeasure as he replied to the petitioner, "Doyou suppose that I have three heads, like the Cerberus at the feet ofyour god, that you ask me to lay one on the block for the smile of apretty girl?"
He signed to his charioteer, and the horses whirled the light vehicleacross the square and down the street of Hermes.
Andreas gazed after him, and muttered, with a shrug
"My first petition to a great man, and assuredly my last."
"The coward!" cried Melissa; but Andreas said, with a superior smile.
"Let us take a lesson from this, my child. Those who reckon on thehelp of man are badly off indeed. We must all trust in God, and each inhimself."