CHAPTER XIII.
Andreas, who had so much on his shoulders, had lost much time, and wasurgently required at home. After gratifying Melissa's wish by describinghow Diodoros had immediately recovered consciousness on the completionof the operation performed by Galen, and painting the deep amazementthat had fallen on all the other physicians at the skill of this fineold man, he had done all he could for the present to be of use to thegirl. He was glad, therefore, when in the street of Hermes, now swarmingagain with citizens, soldiers, and horsemen, he met the old nurse, who,after conducting Agatha home to her father, had been sent back to thetown to remain in attendance, if necessary, on Diodoros. The freedmanleft it to her to escort Melissa to her own home, and went back toreport to Polybius--in the first place, as to his son's state.
It was decided that Melissa should for the present remain with herfather; but, as soon as Diodoros should be allowed to leave theSerapeum, she was to go across the lake to receive the convalescent onhis return home.
The old woman assured her, as they walked on, that Diodoros had alwaysbeen born to good luck; and it was clear that this had never been truerthan now, when Galenus had come in the nick of time to restore him tolife and health, and when he had won such a bride as Melissa. Then shesang the praises of Agatha, of her beauty and goodness, and told herthat the Christian damsel had made many inquiries concerning Alexander.She, the speaker, had not been chary of her praise of the youth, and,unless she was much mistaken, the arrow of Eros had this time piercedAgatha's heart, though till now she had been as a child--an innocentchild--as she herself could say, who had seen her grow up from thecradle. Her faith need not trouble either Melissa or Alexander, forgentler and more modest wives than the Christian women were not to befound among the Greeks--and she had known many.
Melissa rarely interrupted the garrulous old woman; but, while shelistened, pleasant pictures of the future rose before her fancy. Shesaw herself and Diodoros ruling over Polybius's household, and, closeat hand, on Zeno's estate, Alexander with his beautiful and adored wife.There, under Zeno's watchful eye, the wild youth would become a nobleman. Her father would often come to visit them, and in their happinesswould learn to find pleasure in life again. Only now and then thethought of the sacrifice which the vehement Philip must make for hisyounger brother, and of the danger which still threatened Alexander,disturbed the cheerful contentment of her soul, rich as it was in gladhopes.
The nearer they got to her own home, the more lightly her heart beat.She had none but good news to report there. The old woman, panting forbreath, was obliged to beg her to consider her sixty years and moderateher pace.
Melissa willingly checked her steps; and when, at the end of the streetof Hermes, they reached the temple of the god from whom it was namedand turned off to the right, the good woman parted from her, for in thisquiet neighborhood she could safely be trusted to take care of herself.
Melissa was now alone. On her left lay the gardens of Hermes, where, onthe southern side, stood her father's house and that of their neighborSkopas. Though the old nurse had indeed talked of nothing that was notpleasant, it was a comfort not to have to listen to her, but to be freeto follow her own thoughts. Nor did she meet with anything to distractthem, for at this hour the great public garden was left almost entirelyto children and their attendants, or to the inhabitants of the immediateneighborhood who frequented the temples of Hermes or Artemis, or thelittle shrine of Asklepios, which stood in a grove of mimosas on theskirt of the park, and to which Melissa herself felt attracted. It hadbeen a familiar spot at the time when her mother was at the worst. Howoften had she flown hither from her home near at hand to pour oil onthe altar of the god of healing--to make some small offering and findcomfort in prayer!
The day was now hot, she was tired, and, when she saw the white marblecolumns gleaming among the greenery, she yielded to the impulse to enjoya few minutes' rest in the cool cella and accomplish the vow she hadtaken an hour or two since. She longed, indeed, to get home, that herfather might share the happiness which uplifted her heart; but then shereflected that she would not soon have the opportunity of carrying out,unobserved, the purpose she had in her mind. Now, if ever, was the timeto offer sacrifice for Caesar and for the mitigation of his sufferings.The thought that Galenus perhaps was right, and that of Caracalla'smyriad subjects she might be the only one who would do so much for hissake, strengthened her resolve.
The chief temple of Asklepios, whom the Egyptians called Imhotep, wasat the Serapeum. Imhotep was the son of Ptah, who, at Alexandria, wasmerged in Serapis. There he was worshiped, conjointly with Serapis andIsis, by Egyptians, Greeks, and Syrians alike. The little sanctuarynear her father's house was the resort of none but Greeks. PtolemaeusPhiladelphus, the second Macedonian King of Egypt, had built it as anappendage to the Temple of Artemis, after the recovery from sickness ofhis wife Arsinoe.
It was small, but a masterpiece of Greek art, and the statues of Sleepand of A Dream, at the entrance, with the marble group behind the altar,representing Asklepios with his sister Hygeia and his wife Epione theSoother, was reckoned by connoisseurs as among the noblest and mostnoteworthy works of art in Alexandria.
The dignity and benevolence of the god were admirably expressed in thefeatures of the divinity, somewhat resembling the Olympian Zeus, wholeaned on his serpent staff; and the graceful, inviting sweetness ofHygeia, holding out her cup as though she were offering health to thesufferer, was well adapted to revive the hopes of the despondent. Thegod's waving locks were bound with a folded scarf, and at his feet was adog, gazing up at his lord as if in entreaty.
The sacred snakes lay coiled in a cage by the altar; they were believedto have the power of restoring themselves, and this was regarded as apromise to the sick that they should cast off their disease as a serpentcasts its skin. The swift power of the reptile over life and death, wasan emblem to the votaries of the power of the god to postpone the deathof man or to shorten his days.
The inside of the little sanctuary was a cool and still retreat. Tabletshung on the white marble walls, inscribed with the thanksgivings or vowsof those who had been healed. On several, the remedies were recordedwhich had availed in certain cases; and on the left of the little hall,behind a heavy hanging, a small recess contained the archives of thetemple, recipes, records of gifts, and documents referring to thehistory of the sanctuary.
In this deserted, shady spot, between these thick marble walls, it wasmuch cooler than outside. Melissa lifted her hands in prayer before thestatue of the god. She was alone, with the exception of the priestin charge. The temple-servant was absent, and the priest was asleep,breathing heavily, in an arm-chair in a dark nook behind the marblegroup. Thus she was free to follow the impulse of her heart, and pray,first for her sick lover, and then for the sufferer to whom the wholesubservient world belonged.
For Diodoros, indeed, as she knew, other hands and hearts were upliftedin loving sympathy. But who besides herself was praying for the hatedsovereign who had at his command the costliest and rarest gifts offortune, all poisoned by bitter anguish of mind and body? The worldthought only of the sufferings he had inflicted on others; no onedreamed of the pangs he had to endure--no one but herself, to whomGalenus had spoken of them. And had not his features and his lookbetrayed to her that pain was gnawing at his vitals like the vultureat those of Prometheus? Hapless, pitiable youth, born to the highestfortune, and now a decrepit old man in the flower of his age! To prayand sacrifice for him must be a pious deed, pleasing to the gods.Melissa besought the marble images over the altar from the very bottomof her heart, never even asking herself why she was bestowing on thisstranger, this cruel tryant, in whose name her own brother was in dangerof the law, an emotion which nothing but her care for those dearest toher had ever stirred. But she did not feel that he was a stranger, andnever thought how far apart they were. Her prayers came easily, too, inthis spot; the bonds that linked her to these beautiful marble beingswere familiar and dear to her. While she gazed up into the fa
ce ofAsklepios, imploring him to be gracious to the imperial youth, andrelease him from the pain but for which he might have been humane andbeneficent, the stony features seemed to live before her eyes, and themajesty and dignity that beamed on the brow assured her that the god'spower and wisdom were great enough to heal every disease. The tendersmile which played on his features filled her soul with the certaintythat he would vouchsafe to be gracious; nay, she could believe that hemoved those marble lips and promised to grant her prayer. And when sheturned to the statue of Hygeia she fancied the beautiful, kind facenodded to her with a pledge of fulfillment.
She raised her beseeching arms higher still, and addressed hersculptured friends aloud, as though they could hear her:
"I know that nothing is hidden from you, eternal gods," she began, "andwhen it was your will that my mother should be taken from me my foolishheart rebelled. But I was then a child without understanding, and mysoul lay as it were asleep. Now it is different. You know that I havelearned to love a man; and many things, and, the certainty that the godsare good, have come to me with that love. Forgive the maid the sins ofthe child, and make my lover whole, as he lies under the protection andin the sanctuary of the great Serapis, still needing your aid too. Heis mending, and the greatest of thy ministers, O Asklepios, says he willrecover, so it must be true. Yet without thee even the skill of Galenusis of little avail; wherefore I beseech you both, Heal Diodoros, whomI love!--But I would fain entreat you for another. You will wonder,perhaps--for it is Bassianus Antoninus, whom they call Caracalla andCaesar.
"Thou, Asklepios, dost look in amazement, and great Hygeia shakes herhead. And it is hard to say what moves me, who love another, to pray forthe blood-stained murderer for whom not another soul in his empire wouldsay a word to you. Nay, and I know not what it is. Perhaps it is butpity; for he, who ought to be the happiest, is surely the most wretchedman under the sun. O great Asklepios, O bountiful and gracious Hygeia,ease his sufferings, which are indeed beyond endurance! Nor shallyou lack an offering. I will dedicate a cock to you; and as the cockannounces a new day, so perchance shall you grant to Caracalla the dawnof a new existence in better health.
"Alas, gracious god! but thou art grave, as though the offering were toosmall. How gladly would I bring a goat, but I know not whether my moneywill suffice, for it is only what I have saved. By and by, when theyouth I love is my husband, I will prove my gratitude; for he is as richas he is handsome and kind, and will, I know, refuse me nothing. Andthou, sweet goddess, dost not look down upon me as graciously as before;I fear thou art angry. Yet think not"--and she gave a low laugh--"thatI pray for Caracalla because I care for him, or am in love with him. No,no, no, no! my heart is wholly given to Diodoros, and not the smallestpart of it to any other. It is Caesar's misery alone that brings mehither. Sooner would I kiss one of those serpents or a thorny hedgehogthan him, the fratricide in the purple. Believe me, it is true, strangeas it must seem.
"First and last, I pray and offer sacrifice indeed for Diodoros andhis recovery. My brother Alexander, too, who is in danger, I would faincommend to you; but he is well in body, and your remedies are of noeffect against the perils which threaten him."
Here she ceased, and gazed into the faces of the statues, but they wouldnot look so friendly as before. It was, no doubt, the smallness ofher offering that had offended them. She anxiously drew out her littlemoney-bag and counted the contents. But when, after waking the priest,she had asked how much a goat might cost for sacrifice, her countenancecleared, for her savings were enough to pay for it and for a young cockas well. All she had she left with the old man, to the last sesterce;but she could only wait to see the cock sacrificed, for she felt shemust go home.
As soon as the blood of the bird had besprinkled the altar, and she hadtold the divinities that a goat was also to be killed, she fancied thatthey looked at her more kindly; and she was turning to the door, aslight and gay as if she had happily done some difficult task, when thecurtain screening off the library of archives was lifted, and a man cameout calling her by name. She turned round; but as soon as she saw thathe was a Roman, and, as his white toga told her, of the upper class,she took fright. She hastily exclaimed that she was in a hurry, and flewdown the steps, through the garden, and into the road. Once there, shereproached herself for foolish shyness of a stranger who was scarcelyyounger than her own father; but by the time she had gone a few stepsshe had forgotten the incident, and was rehearsing in her mind all shehad to tell Heron. She soon saw the tops of the palms and sycamores intheir own garden, her faithful old dog Melas barked with delight, andthe happiness which the meeting with the stranger had for a momentinterrupted revived with unchecked glow.
She was weary, and where could she rest so well as at home? She hadescaped many perils, and where could she feel so safe as under herfather's roof? Glad as she was at the prospect of her new and handsomehome on the other side of the lake, and of all the delights promisedher by Diodoros's affection, her heart still clung fondly to the pretty,neat little dwelling whose low roof now gleamed in front of her. Inthe garden, whose shell-strewn paths she now trod, she had played as achild; that window belonged to the room where her mother had died. Andthen, coming home was in itself a joy, when she had so much to tell thatwas pleasant.
The dog leaped along by her side with vehement affection, jumping roundher and on her, and she heard the starling's cry, first "Olympias!" andthen "My strength!"
A happy smile parted her rosy lips as she glanced at the work-room; butthe two white teeth which always gleamed when she was gay were presentlyhidden, for her father, it would seem, was out. He was certainly not atwork, for the wide window was unscreened, and it was now nearly noon.He was almost always within at this hour, and it would spoil half hergladness not to find him there.
But what was this? What could this mean? The dog had announced herapproach, and old Dido's gray head peeped out of the house-door, tovanish again at once. How strangely she had looked at her--exactlyas she had looked that day when the physician had told the faithfulcreature that her mistress's last hour was at hand!
Melissa's contentment was gone. Before she even crossed the threshold,where the friendly word "Rejoice" greeted her in brown mosaic, shecalled the old woman by name. No answer.
She went into the kitchen to find Dido; for she, according to herinvariable habit of postponing evil as long as possible, had fled to thehearth. There she stood, though the fire was out, weeping bitterly, andcovering her wrinkled face with her hands, as though she quailed beforethe eyes of the girl she must so deeply grieve. One glance at the woman,and the tears which trickled through her fingers and down her leanarms told Melissa that something dreadful had happened. Very pale, andclasping her hand to her heaving bosom, she desired to be told all; butfor some time Dido was quite unable to speak intelligibly. And beforeshe could make up her mind to it, she looked anxiously for Argutis, whomshe held to be the wisest of mankind, and who, she knew, would revealthe dreadful thing that must be told more judiciously than she could.But the Gaul was not to be seen; so Dido, interrupted by sobs, began themelancholy tale.
Heron had come home between midnight and sunrise and had gone to bed.Next morning, while he was feeding the birds, Zminis, the captain of thenight-watch, had come in with some men-at-arms, and had tried to takethe artist prisoner in Caesar's name. On this, Heron had raved likea bull, had appealed to his Macedonian birth, his rights as a Romancitizen, and much besides, and demanded to know of what he was accused.He was then informed that he was to be held in captivity by the specialorders of the head of the police, till his son Alexander, who was guiltyof high-treason, should surrender to the authorities. But her master,said Dido, sobbing, had knocked down the man who had tried to bind himwith a mighty blow of his fist. At last there was a fearful uproar, andin fact a bloody fight. The starling shouted his cry through it all, thebirds fluttered and piped with terror, and it was like the abode of thedamned in the nether world; and strangers came crowding about the house,till Skopas arr
ived and advised Heron to go with the Egyptian.
"But even at the door," Dido added, "he called out to me that you,Melissa, could remain with Polybius till he should recover his liberty.Philip was to appeal for help to the prefect Titianus, and offer him thegems--you know them, he said. And, last of all," and again she began tocry, "he especially commended to my care the tomb--and the birds; andthe starling wants some fresh mealworms." Melissa heard with dismay; thecolor had faded from her cheeks, and as Dido ended she asked gloomily:
"And Philip--and Alexander?"
"We have thought of everything," replied the old woman. "As soon as wewere alone we held a council, Argutis and I. He went to find Alexander,and I went to Philip. I found him in his rooms. He had come home verylate, the porter said, and I saw him in bed, and I had trouble enough towake him. Then I told him all, and he went on in such mad talk--itwill be no wonder if the gods punish him. He wanted to rush off to theprefect, with his hair uncombed, just as he was. I had to bring him tohis senses; and then, while I was oiling his hair and helping him intohis best new mantle, he changed his mind, for he declared he would comehome first, to talk with you and Argutis. Argutis was at home again, buthe had not found Alexander, for the poor youth has to hide himself as ifhe were a murderer." And again she sobbed; nor was it till Melissa hadsoothed her with kind speeches that she could go on with her story.
Philip had learned yesterday where Alexander was concealed, so heundertook to go across the lake and inform him of what had occurred.But Argutis, faithful and prudent, had hindered him, representing thatAlexander, who was easily moved, as soon as he heard that his fatherwas a prisoner would unhesitatingly give himself up to his enemies as ahostage, and rush headlong into danger. Alexander must remain in hidingso long as Caesar was in Alexandria. He (Argutis) would go instead ofPhilip, who, for his part, might call on the prefect later. He wouldcross the lake and warn Melissa not to return home, and to tellAlexander what he might think necessary. The watch might possibly followArgutis; but he knew every lane and alley, and could mislead and avoidthem. Philip had listened to reason. The slave went, and must now soonbe back again.
Of how different a home-coming had Melissa dreamed! What new andterrible griefs were these! Still, though distressed at the thought ofher vehement father in prison, she shed no tears, but told herselfthat matters could only be mended by rational action on behalf of thevictims, and not by lamentations. She must be alone, to collect herstrength and consider the situation. So she desired Dido, to her greatamazement, to prepare some food, and bring her wine and water. Then,seating herself, with a melancholy glance at her embroidery where it layfolded together, she rested her elbow on the table and her head in herhand, considering to whom she could appeal to save her father.
First she thought of Caesar himself, whose eye had met hers, and forwhom she had prayed and offered sacrifice. But the blood fired hercheeks at the thought, and she repelled it at once. Yet her mind wouldlinger at the Serapeum, where her lover, too, still rested his feveredhead. She knew that the high-priests' spacious lodgings there, withtheir splendid rooms and banqueting halls, had been prepared for theemperor; and she remembered various things which her brother hadtold her of Timotheus, who was at the head not only of the heathenpriesthood, but also of the museum. He was said to be a philosopher, andPhilip had more than once been distinguished by him, and invited to hishouse. Her brother must apply to him. He, who was in a way Caracalla'shost, would easily succeed in obtaining her father's release, from hisimperial guest.
Her grave face brightened at this thought, and, while she ate anddrank, another idea struck her. Alexander, too, must be known to thehigh-priest; for Timotheus was the brother of Seleukus, whose daughterthe artist had just painted, and Timotheus had seen the portrait andpraised it highly. Thus it was not improbable that the generous manwould, if Philip besought him, intercede for Alexander. So all mightturn out better than she had ventured to hope.
Firmly convinced that it was her part to rescue her family, she oncemore reviewed in her mind every acquaintance to whom she might lookfor aid; but even during her meditations her tired frame asserted itsrights, and when Dido came in to remove the remains of the meal and theempty wine-cup, she found Melissa sunk in sleep.
Shaking her head, and saying to herself that it served the old man rightfor his cruel treatment of a dutiful child--though, for Alexander'ssake, she might have tried to keep awake--the faithful soul pushed acushion under the girl's head, drew the screen across the window, andstood waving off the flies which buzzed about her darling's flushedface, till presently the dog barked, and an energetic knock shook thehouse-door. Melissa started from her slumbers, the old woman threw asidethe fan, and, as she hurried to admit the vehement visitor, cried out toMelissa:
"Be easy, dear child--be easy. It is nothing; depend upon that. I knowthe knock; it is only Philip."