CHAPTER III.
The brother and sister had walked some distance. The roads were full ofpeople, and the nearer they came to the Nekropolis the denser was thethrong.
As they skirted the town walls they took counsel together.
Being perfectly agreed that the girl who had touched Philip's handcould certainly be no daimon who had assumed Korinna's form, they wereinclined to accept the view that a strong resemblance had deceived theirbrother. They finally decided that Alexander should try to discover themaiden who so strangely resembled the dead; and the artist was ready forthe task, for he could only work when his heart was light, and hadnever felt such a weight on it before. The hope of meeting with a livingcreature who resembled that fair dead maiden, combined with his wish torescue his brother from the disorder of mind which threatened him; andMelissa perceived with glad surprise how quickly this new object in liferestored the youth's happy temper.
It was she who spoke most, and Alexander, whom nothing escaped that hadany form of beauty, feasted his ear on the pearly ring of her voice.
"And her face is to match," thought he as they went on in the darkness;"and may the Charites who have endowed her with every charm, forgive myfather for burying her as he does his gold."
It was not in his nature to keep anything that stirred him deeply tohimself, when he was in the society of another, so he murmured to hissister: "It is just as well that the Macedonian youths of thiscity should not be able to see what a jewel our old man's housecontains.--Look how brightly Selene shines on us, and how gloriously thestars burn! Nowhere do the heavens blaze more brilliantly than here. Assoon as we come out of the shadow that the great walls cast on the roadwe shall be in broad light. There is the Serapeum rising out of thedarkness. They are rehearsing the great illumination which is to dazzlethe eyes of Caesar when he comes. But they must show too, that to-night,at least, the gods of the nether world and death are all awake. You cannever have been in the Nekropolis at so late an hour before."
"How should I?" replied the girl. And he expressed the pleasure that itgave him to be able to show her for the first time the wonderful nightscene of such a festival. And when he heard the deep-drawn "Ah!" withwhich she hailed the sight of the greatest temple of all, blazing in themidst of the darkness with tar-pans, torches, and lamps innumerable,he replied with as much pride and satisfaction as though she owed thedisplay to him, "Ay, what do you think of that?"
Above the huge stone edifice which was thus lighted up, the dome of theSerapeum rose high into the air, its summit appearing to touch the sky.Never had the gigantic structure seemed so beautiful to the girl, whohad only seen it by daylight; for under the illumination, arranged by amaster-hand, every line stood out more clearly than in the sunlight; andin the presence of this wonderful sight Melissa's impressionable youngsoul forgot the trouble that had weighed on it, and her heart beathigher.
Her lonely life with her father had hitherto fully satisfied her, andshe had, never yet dreamed of anything better in the future than aquiet and modest existence, caring for him and her brothers; but now shethankfully experienced the pleasure of seeing for once something reallygrand and fine, and rejoiced at having escaped for a while from themonotony of each day and hour.
Once, too, she had been with her brothers and Diodoros, Alexander'sgreatest friend, to see a wild-beast fight, followed by a combat ofgladiators; but she had come home frightened and sorrowful, for whatshe had seen had horrified more than it had interested her. Some of thekilled and tortured beings haunted her mind; and, besides, sitting inthe lowest and best seats belonging to Diodoros's wealthy father, shehad been stared at so boldly and defiantly whenever she raised her eyes,by a young gallant opposite, that she had felt vexed and insulted; nay,had wished above all things to get home as soon as possible. And yetshe had loved Diodoros from her childhood, and she would have enjoyedsitting quietly by his side more than looking on at the show.
But on this occasion her curiosity was gratified, and the hope of beingable to help one who was dear to her filled her with quiet gladness.It was a comfort to her, too, to find herself once more by her mother'sgrave with Alexander, who was her especial friend. She could never comehere often enough, and the blessing which emanated from it--of that shewas convinced--must surely fall on her brother also, and avert from himall that grieved his heart.
As they walked on between the Serapeum on one hand, towering high aboveall else, and the Stadium on the other, the throng was dense; on thebridge over the canal it was difficult to make any progress. Now, asthe full moon rose, the sacrifices and games in honor of the gods ofthe under world were beginning, and now the workshops and factories hademptied themselves into the streets already astir for the festival ofthe dead, so every moment the road became more crowded.
Such a tumult was generally odious to her retiring nature; but to-nightshe felt herself merely one drop in the great, flowing river, of whichevery other drop felt the same impulse which was carrying her forwardto her destination. The desire to show the dead that they were notforgotten, that their favor was courted and hoped for, animated men andwomen, old and young alike.
There were few indeed who had not a wreath or a posy in their hands, orcarried behind them by a slave. In front of the brother and sister wasa large family of children. A black nurse carried the youngest on hershoulder, and an ass bore a basket in which were flowers for the tomb,with a wineflask and eatables. A memorial banquet was to be held at thegrave of their ancestors; and the little one, whose golden head roseabove the black, woolly poll of the negress, nodded gayly in response toMelissa's smiles. The children were enchanted at the prospect of a mealat such an unusual hour, and their parents rejoiced in them and in thesolemn pleasure they anticipated.
Many a one in this night of remembrance only cared to recall the happyhours spent in the society of the beloved dead; others hoped to leavetheir grief and pain behind them, and find fresh courage and contentmentin the City of the Dead; for tonight the gates of the nether world stoodopen, and now, if ever, the gods that reigned there would accept theofferings and hear the prayers of the devout.
Those lean Egyptians, who pushed past in silence and harangingtheir heads, were no doubt bent on carrying offerings to Osiris andAnubis--for the festival of the gods of death and resurrection coincidedwith the Nekysia--and on winning their favors by magical formulas andspells.
Everything was plainly visible, for the desert tract of the Nekropolis,where at this hour utter darkness and silence usually reigned, wasbrightly lighted up. Still, the blaze failed to banish entirely thethrill of fear which pervaded the spot at night; for the unwonted glaredazzled and bewildered the bats and night-birds, and they flutteredabout over the heads of the intruders in dark, ghostly flight. Many aone believed them to be the unresting souls of condemned sinners, andlooked up at them with awe.
Melissa drew her veil closer and clung more tightly to her brother, fora sound of singing and wild cries, which she had heard behind her forsome time, was now coming closer. They were no longer treading the pavedstreet, but the hard-beaten soil of the desert. The crush was over, forhere the crowd could spread abroad; but the uproarious troop, which shedid not even dare to look at, came rushing past quite close to them.They were Greeks, of all ages and of both sexes. The men flourishedtorches, and were shouting a song with unbridled vehemence; the women,wearing garlands, kept up with them. What they carried in the basketson their heads could not be seen, nor did Alexander know; for so manyreligious brotherhoods and mystic societies existed here that it wasimpossible to guess to which this noisy troop might belong.
The pair had presently overtaken a little train of white-robed menmoving forward at a solemn pace, whom the painter recognized as thephilosophical and religious fraternity of the Neo-Pythagoreans, when asmall knot of men and women in the greatest excitement came rushing pastas if they were mad. The men wore the loose red caps of their Phrygianland; the women carried bowls full of fruits. Some beat small drums,others clanged cymbals, and each haul
ed his neighbor along withdeafening cries, faster and faster, till the dust hid them from sightand a new din drowned the last, for the votaries of Dionysus werealready close upon them, and vied with the Phrygians in uproariousness.But this wild troop remained behind; for one of the light-colored oxen,covered with decorations, which was being driven in the procession bya party of men and boys, to be presently sacrificed, had broken away,maddened by the lights and the shouting, and had to be caught and ledagain.
At last they reached the graveyard. But even now they could not maketheir way to the long row of houses where the embalmers dwelt, for animpenetrable mass of human beings stood pent up in front of them, andMelissa begged her brother to give her a moment's breathing space.
All she had seen and heard on the way had excited her greatly; but shehad scarcely for a moment forgotten what it was that had brought her outso late, who it was that she sought, or that it would need her utmostendeavor to free him from the delusion that had fooled him. In thisdense throng and deafening tumult it was scarcely possible to recoverthat collected calm which she had found in the morning at her mother'stomb. In that, doubt had had no part, and the delightful feeling offreedom which had shone on her soul, now shrank deep into the shadebefore a growing curiosity and the longing for her usual repose.
If her father were to find her here! When she saw a tall figureresembling his cross the torchlight, all clouded as it was by the dust,she drew her brother away behind the stall of a seller of drinks andother refreshments. The father, at any rate, must be spared the distressshe felt about Philip, who was his favorite. Besides, she knew full wellthat, if he met her here, he would at once take her home.
The question now was where Philip might be found.
They were standing close to the booths where itinerant dealers soldfood and liquors of every description, flowers and wreaths, amulets andpapyrus-leaves, with strange charms written on them to secure health forthe living and salvation for the souls of the dead. An astrologer, whoforetold the course of a man's life from the position of the planets,had erected a high platform with large tables displayed to view, and theinstrument wherewith he aimed at the stars as it were with a bow;and his Syrian slave, accompanying himself on a gayly-painted drum,proclaimed his master's powers. There were closed tents in which magicalremedies were to be obtained, though their open sale was forbidden bythe authorities, from love-philters to the wondrous fluid which, ifrightly applied, would turn lead, copper, or silver to gold. Here, oldwomen invited the passer-by to try Thracian and other spells; there,magicians stalked to and fro in painted caps and flowing, gaudy robes,most of them calling themselves priests of some god of the abyss. Menof every race and tongue that dwelt in the north of Africa, or on theshores of the Mediterranean, were packed in a noisy throng.
The greatest press was behind the houses of the men who buried the dead.Here sacrifices were offered on the altars of Serapis, Isis, and Anubis;here the sacred sistrum of Isis might be kissed; here hundreds ofpriests performed solemn ceremonies, and half of those who came hitherfor the festival of the dead collected about them. The mysterieswere also performed here, beginning before midnight; and a dramaticrepresentation might be seen of the woes of Isis, and the resurrectionof her husband Osiris. But neither here, nor at the stalls, nor amongthe graves, where many families were feasting by torchlight and pouringlibations in the sand for the souls of the dead, did Alexander expectto find his brother. Nor would Philip be attending the mysterioussolemnities of any of the fraternities. He had witnessed them oftenenough with his friend Diodoros, who never missed the procession toEleusis, because, as he declared, the mysteries of Demeter alone couldassure a man of the immortality of the soul. The wild ceremonies of theSyrians, who maimed themselves in their mad ecstasy, repelled him asbeing coarse and barbarous.
As she made her way through this medley of cults, this worship of godsso different that they were in some cases hostile, but more often mergedinto each other, Melissa wondered to which she ought to turn in herpresent need. Her mother had best loved to sacrifice to Serapis andIsis. But since, in her last sickness, Melissa had offered everythingshe possessed to these divinities of healing, and all in vain, and sinceshe had heard things in the Serapeum itself which even now broughta blush to her cheek, she had turned away from the great god of theAlexandrians. Though he who had offended her by such base proposals wasbut a priest of the lower grade--and indeed, though she knew it not, wassince dead--she feared meeting him again, and had avoided the sanctuarywhere he officiated.
She was a thorough Alexandrian, and had been accustomed from childhoodto listen to the philosophical disputations of the men about her. So sheperfectly understood her brother Philip, the skeptic, when he said thathe by no means denied the existence of the immortals, but that, on theother hand, he could not believe in it; that thought brought him noconviction; that man, in short, could be sure of nothing, and so couldknow nothing whatever of the divinity. He had even denied, on logicalgrounds, the goodness and omnipotence of the gods, the wisdom andfitness of the ordering of the universe, and Melissa was proud of herbrother's acumen; but what appeals to the brain only, and not tothe heart, can not move a woman to anything great--least of all to adecisive change of life or feeling. So the girl had remained constant toher mother's faith in some mighty powers outside herself, which guidedthe life of Nature and of human beings. Only she did not feel that shehad found the true god, either in Serapis or Isis, and so she had soughtothers. Thus she had formulated a worship of ancestors, which, as shehad learned from the slave-woman of her friend Ino, was not unfamiliarto the Egyptians.
In Alexandria there were altars to every god, and worship in every form.Hers, however, was not among them, for the genius of her creed was theenfranchised soul of her mother, who had cast off the burden of thisperishable body. Nothing had ever come from her that was not good andlovely; and she knew that if her mother were permitted, even in someother than human form, she would never cease to watch over her withtender care.
And those initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries, as Diodoros had toldher, desired the immortality of the soul, to the end that they mightcontinue to participate in the life of those whom they had left behind.What was it that brought such multitudes at this time out to theNekropolis, with their hands full of offerings, but the consciousnessof their nearness to the dead, and of being cared for by them so long asthey were not forgotten? And even if the glorified spirit of her motherwere not permitted to hear her prayers, she need not therefore cease toturn to her; for it comforted her unspeakably to be with her in spirit,and to confide to her all that moved her soul. And so her mother's tombhad become her favorite place of rest. Here, if anywhere, she now hopedonce more to find comfort, some happy suggestion, and perhaps somedefinite assistance.
She begged Alexander to take her thither, and he consented, though hewas of opinion that Philip would be found in the mortuary chamber, inthe presence of Korinna's portrait.
It was not easy to force their way through the thousands who had comeout to the great show this night; however, most of the visitors wereattracted by the mysteries far away from the Macedonian burial-ground,and there was little to disturb the silence near the fine marblemonument which Alexander, to gratify his father, had erected with hisfirst large earnings. It was hung with various garlands, and Melissa,before she prayed and anointed the stone, examined them with eye andhand.
Those which she and her father had placed there she recognized at once.That humble garland of reeds with two lotus-flowers was the gift oftheir old slave Argutis and his wife Dido. This beautiful wreath ofchoice flowers had come from the garden of a neighbor who had loved hermother well; and that splendid basketful of lovely roses, which had notbeen there this morning, had been placed here by Andreas, steward to thefather of her young friend Diodoros, although he was of the Christiansect. And these were all. Philip had not been here then, though it wasnow past midnight.
For the first time in his life he had let this day pass by without athought for thei
r dead. How bitterly this grieved Melissa, and evenadded to her anxiety for him!
It was with a heavy heart that she and Alexander anointed the tombstone;and while Melissa uplifted her hands in prayer, the painter stood insilence, his eyes fixed on the ground. But no sooner had she let themfall, than he exclaimed:
"He is here, I am sure, and in the house of the embalmers. That heordered two wreaths is perfectly certain; and if he meant one forKorinna's picture, he surely intended the other for our mother. If hehas offered both to the young girl--"
"No, no!" Melissa put in. "He will bring his gift. Let us wait here alittle while, and do you, too, pray to the manes of our mother. Do it toplease me."
But her brother interrupted her eagerly: "I think of her wherever I maybe; for those we truly love always live for us. Not a day passes, norif I come in sober, not a night, when I do not see her dear face, eitherwaking or dreaming. Of all things sacred, the thought of her is thehighest; and if she had been raised to divine honors like the deadCaesars who have brought so many curses on the world--"
"Hush--don't speak so loud!" said Melissa, seriously, for men weremoving to and fro among the tombs, and Roman guards kept watch over thepopulace.
But the rash youth went on in the same tone:
"I would worship her gladly, though I have forgotten how to pray. Forwho can tell here--unless he follows the herd and worships Serapis--whocan tell to which god of them all he shall turn when he happens to be athis wits' end? While my mother lived, I, like you, could gladly worshipand sacrifice to the immortals; but Philip has spoiled me for all that.As to the divine Caesars, every one thinks as I do. My mother wouldsooner have entered a pesthouse than the banqueting-hall where theyfeast, on Olympus. Caracalla among the gods! Why, Father Zeus cast hisson Hephaistos on earth from the height of Olympus, and only broke hisleg; but our Caesar accomplished a more powerful throw, for he cast hisbrother through the earth into the nether world--an imperial thrust--andnot merely lamed him but killed him."
"Well done!" said a deep voice, interrupting the young artist. "Is thatyou, Alexander? Hear what new titles to fame Heron's son can find forthe imperial guest who is to arrive to-morrow."
"Pray hush!" Melissa besought him, looking up at the bearded man who hadlaid his arm on Alexander's shoulder. It was Glaukias the sculptor, herfather's tenant; for his work-room stood on the plot of ground bythe garden of Hermes, which the gem-cutter had inherited from hisfather-in-law.
The man's bold, manly features were flushed with wine and revelry; histwinkling eyes sparkled, and the ivy-leaves still clinging to his curlyhair showed that he had been one in the Dionysiac revellers; butthe Greek blood which ran in his veins preserved his grace even indrunkenness. He bowed gayly to the young girl, and exclaimed to hiscompanions:
"The youngest pearl in Alexandria's crown of beauties!" while Bion,Alexander's now gray-haired master, clapped the youth on the arm,and added: "Yes, indeed, see what the little thing has grown! Doyou remember, pretty one, how you once--how many years ago, Iwonder?--spotted your little white garments all over with red dots! Ican see you now, your tiny finger plunged into the pot of paint, andthen carefully printing off the round pattern all over the white linen.Why, the little painter has become a Hebe, a Charis, or, better still, asweetly dreaming Psyche."
"Ay, ay!" said Glaukias again. "My worthy landlord has a charming model.He has not far to seek for a head for his best gems. His son, a Helios,or the great Macedonian whose name he bears; his daughter--you areright, Bion--the maid beloved of Eros. Now, if you can make verses, myyoung friend of the Muses, give us an epigram in a line or two which wemay bear in mind as a compliment to our imperial visitor."
"But not here--not in the burial-ground," Melissa urged once more.
Among Glaukias's companions was Argeios, a vain and handsome young poet,with scented locks betraying him from afar, who was fain to display thepromptness of his poetical powers; and, even while the elder artistwas speaking, he had run Alexander's satirical remarks into the moldof rhythm. Not to save his life could he have suppressed the hastilyconceived distich, or have let slip such a justifiable claim toapplause. So, without heeding Melissa's remonstrance, he flung hissky-blue mantle about him in fresh folds, and declaimed with comicalemphasis:
"Down to earth did the god cast his son: but with mightier hand Through it, to Hades, Caesar flung his brother the dwarf."
The versifier was rewarded by a shout of laughter, and, spurred by theapproval of his friends, he declared he had hit on the mode to which tosing his lines, as he did in a fine, full voice.
But there was another poet, Mentor, also of the party, and as hecould not be happy under his rival's triumph, he exclaimed: "The greatdyer--for you know he uses blood instead of the Tyrian shell--hasnothing of Father Zeus about him that I can see, but far more of thegreat Alexander, whose mausoleum he is to visit to-morrow. And if youwould like to know wherein the son of Severus resembles the giant ofMacedon, you shall hear."
He thrummed his thyrsus as though he struck the strings of a lyre, and,having ended the dumb prelude, he sang:
"Wherein hath the knave Caracalla outdone Alexander? He killed a brother, the hero a friend, in his rage."
These lines, however, met with no applause; for they were not so lightlyimprovised as the former distich, and it was clumsy and tasteless, aswell as dangerous thus to name, in connection with such a jest, thepotentate at whom it was aimed. And the fears of the jovial party wereonly too well founded, for a tall, lean Egyptian suddenly stood amongthe Greeks as if he had sprung from the earth. They were sobered atonce, and, like a swarm of pigeons on which a hawk swoops down, theydispersed in all directions.
Melissa beckoned to her brother to follow her; but the Egyptian intrudersnatched the mantle, quick as lightning, from Alexander's shoulders, andran off with it to the nearest pine-torch. The young man hurried afterthe thief, as he supposed him to be, but there the spy flung the cloakback to him, saying, in a tone of command, though not loud, for therewere still many persons among the graves:
"Hands off, son of Heron, unless you want me to call the watch! I haveseen your face by the light, and that is enough for this time. Now weknow each other, and we shall meet again in another place!"
With these words he vanished in the darkness, and Melissa asked, ingreat alarm:
"In the name of all the gods, who was that?"
"Some rascally carpenter, or scribe, probably, who is in the service ofthe night-watch as a spy. At least those sort of folks are often builtaskew, as that scoundrel was," replied Alexander, lightly. But he knewthe man only too well. It was Zminis, the chief of the spies to thenight patrol; a man who was particularly inimical to Heron, and whosehatred included the son, by whom he had been befooled and misled in morethan one wild ploy with his boon companions. This spy, whose cruelty andcunning were universally feared, might do him a serious mischief, and hetherefore did not tell his sister, to whom the name of Zminis was wellknown, who the listener was.
He cut short all further questioning by desiring her to come at once tothe mortuary hall.
"And if we do not find him there," she said, "let us go home at once; Iam so frightened."
"Yes, yes," said her brother, vaguely. "If only we could meet some oneyou could join."
"No, we will keep together," replied Melissa, decisively; and simplyassenting, with a brief "All right," the painter drew her arm throughhis, and they made their way through the now thinning crowd.