CHAPTER XXX.
Scarcely had Macrinus closed the door behind him, when Caracalla threwhimself exhausted on the throne, and ordered wine to brought.
The gloomy gaze he bent upon the ground was not affected this time.The physician noted with anxiety how his master's breast heaved and hiseyelids quivered; but when he offered Caesar a soothing potion, he wavedhim away, and commanded him to cease from troubling him.
For all that, he listened a little later to the legate, who broughtthe news that the youths of the city assembled on the race-coursewere beginning to be impatient. They were singing and applaudingboisterously, and the songs they so loudly insisted on having repeatedwould certainly not contain matter flattering to the Romans.
"Leave them alone," answered Caesar, roughly. "Every line is aimed at meand no other. But the condemned are always allowed their favorite mealbefore the last journey. The food they love is venomous satire. Let themenjoy it to the full once more!--Is it far to Zminis's prison?"
The reply was in the negative; and as Caracalla exclaimed, "So much thebetter!" a significant smile played on his lips.
The high-priest of Serapis had looked on in much distress of mind. He,as the head of the Museum, had set high hopes on the youth who hadcome to such a terrible end. If Caesar should carry his threats intoexecution, there would be an end to that celebrated home of learningwhich, in his opinion, bore such noble fruits of study. And what couldCaracalla mean by his dark saying that the sport and mockery of thoseyouths below was their last meal? The worst might indeed be expectedfrom the fearful tyrant who was at once so deeply wounded andso grievously offended; and the high-priest had already sentmessengers--Greeks of good credit--to warn the insurgent youths in thestadium. But, as the chief minister of the divinity, he also esteemed ithis duty, at any risk to himself, to warn the despot, whom he saw on theverge of being carried away to deeds of unparalleled horror. He thoughtthe time had come, when Caracalla looked up from the brooding reverieinto which he had again sunk, and with an ominous scowl asked Timotheuswhether his wife, under whose protection Melissa had been seen theday before, had known that the false-hearted girl had given herself toanother man while she feigned love for him.
The high-priest repelled the suspicion with his usual dignity, and wenton to adjure Caesar not to visit on an industrious and dutiful communitythe sins of a light-minded girl's base folly and falsehood.
But Caracalla would not suffer him to finish; he wrathfully inquired whohad given him a right to force his advice on Caesar.
On this Timotheus replied, with calm dignity:
"Your own noble words, great Caesar, when, to your honor be it spoken,you reminded the misguided skeptic of the true meaning of the old godsand of what is due to them. The god whom I serve, great Caesar, issecond to none: the heavens are his head, the ocean is his body, andthe earth his feet; the sunshine is the light of his all-seeing eye, andeverything which stirs in the heart or brain of man is an emanation ofhis divine spirit. Thus he is the all-pervading soul of the universe,and a portion of that soul dwells in you, in me, in all of us. His poweris greater than any power on earth, and, though a well-grounded wrathand only too just indignation urge you to exert the power lent you byhim--"
"And I will exert it!" Caesar exclaimed with haughty rage. "It reachesfar. I need no help, not even that of your god!"
"That I know," replied Timotheus. "And the god will let those fall intoyour hands who have sinned against your sacred majesty. Any punishment,even the severest, will be pleasing in his sight which you may inflicton those guilty of high-treason, for you wear the purple as his gift andin his name; those who insult you sin also against the god. I myself,with my small power, will help to bring the criminals to justice. Butwhen a whole population is accused, when it is beyond the power of humanjustice to separate the innocent from the guilty, punishment is theprerogative of the god. He will visit on this city the crimes it hascommitted against you; and I implore you, in the name of your noble andadmirable mother--whom it has been my privilege to entertain under thisroof, and who in gratitude for the favors of Serapis--"
"And have I grudged sacrifices?" Caesar broke in. "I have done my utmostto win the graces of your god--and with what success? Everything thatcan most aggrieve the heart of man has befallen me here under his eyes.I have as much reason to complain of him as to accuse the reprobatenatives of your city. He, no doubt, knows how to be avenged; thethree-headed monster at his feet does not look like a lap-dog. Why, hewould despise me if I should leave the punishment of the criminals tohis tender mercies! Nay, I can do that for myself. Though you have seenme in many cases show mercy, it has always been for my mother's sake.You have done well to remind me of her. That lady--she is, I know, avotary of your god. But to me the Alexandrians have dared to violatethe laws of hospitality; to her they were cordial hosts. I will rememberthat in their favor. And if many escape unpunished, I would have thetraitors to know that they owe it to the hospitality shown to my motherby their parents, or perhaps by themselves."
He was here interrupted by the arrival of Aristides, who entered ingreat haste and apparently pleased excitement. His spies had seized amalefactor who had affixed an epigram of malignant purport to the statueof Julia Domna in the Caesareum. The writer was a pupil of the Museum,and had been taken in the stadium, where he was boasting of his exploit.A spy, mingling with the crowd, had laid hands on him, and the captainof the watch had forthwith hurried to the Serapeum to boast of a successwhich might confirm him in his yet uncertain position. The rough sketchof the lines had been found on the culprit, and Aristides held thetablets on which they were written while Caracalla listened to hisreport. Aristides was breathless with eagerness, and Caesar, snatchingthe tablets impatiently from his hand, read the following lines:
"Wanton, I say, is this dam of irreconcilable brothers!" "Mean youJocasta?" "Nay, worse--Julia, the wife of Severus."
"The worst of all--but the last!" Caracalla snarled, as, turning pale,he laid the tablets down. But he almost instantly took them up again,and handing the malignant and lying effusion to the high-priest, heexclaimed, with a laugh:
"This seals the warrant! Here is my mother slandered, too! Now, the manwho sues for mercy condemns himself to death!" And, clinching his fist,he muttered, "And this, too, is from the Museum."
Timotheus, meanwhile, had also read the lines. Even paler thanCaracalla, and fully aware that any further counsel would be thrownaway and only turn the emperor's wrath against himself, he expressed hisanger at this calumny directed against the noblest of women, and by aboy hardly free from school!
But Caracalla furiously broke in:
"And woe to you if your god refuses me the only thing I crave in returnfor so many sacrifices--revenge, complete and sanguinary; atonement fromgreat and small alike!" But he interrupted himself with the exclamation:"He grants it! Now for the tool I need."
The tool was ready--Zminis, the Egyptian, answering in every particularto the image which Caracalla had had in his mind of the instrument whomight execute his most bloodthirsty purpose.
With hair in disorder and a blue-black stubble of beard on his haggardyellow cheeks, in a dirty gray prison shirt, barefoot, and treading assilently as Fate when it creeps on a victim, the rascal approached hissovereign. He stood before Caracalla exactly as the prefect, in a swiftchariot, had brought him out of prison. The white of his long, narroweyes, which had so terrified Melissa, had turned yellow, and his glancewas as restless and shifting as that of a hyena. His small head on itslong neck was never for a moment still; the ruthless wretch had satwaiting day after day in expectation of death, and it was by a miraclethat he found himself once more at the height of his ambition. But whenat last he inquired of Caracalla, in the husky voice which had gained anadded hoarseness from the damp dungeon whence he had been brought, whathis commands were, looking up at him like a starving dog which hopes fora titbit from his master's hand, even the fratricide, who himself heldthe sword sharpened to kill, shuddered at the sight an
d sound.
But Caesar at once recovered himself, and when he asked the Egyptian:
"Will you undertake to help me, as captain of the night-watch, to punishthe traitors of Alexandria?" the answer was confident:
"What man can do, I can do."
"Good!" replied Caracalla. "But this is not a matter of merely capturingone or another. Every one--mark me--every one has merited death who hasbroken the laws of hospitality, that hospitality which this lying cityoffered me. Do you understand? Yes? Well, then, how are we to detect theguilty? Where are we to find spies and executioners enough? How canwe punish worst those whose wickedness has involved the rest in guilt,especially the epigramatists of the Museum? How are we to discover theringleaders of those who insulted me yesterday in the Circus, and ofthose among the youths in the stadium who have dared to express theirvile disapproval by whistling in my very face? What steps will you taketo hinder a single one from escaping? Consider. How is it to be done soeffectually that I may lie down and say 'They have had their deserts. Iam content'?"
The Egyptian's eyes wandered round the floor, but he presently drewhimself up and answered briefly and positively, as though he wereissuing an order to his men:
"Kill them all!"
Caracalla started, and repeated dully, "All?"
"All!" repeated Zminis, with a hideous grin. "The young ones are allthere, safe in the stadium. The men in the Museum fear nothing. Thosewho are in the streets can be cut down. Locked doors can be broken in."
At this, Caesar, who had dropped on to his throne, started to hisfeet, flung the wine-cup he held across the room, laughed loudly, andexclaimed:
"You are the man for me! To work at once! This will be a day!--Macrinus,Theocritus, Antigonus, we need your troops. Send up the legates. Thosewho do not like the taste of blood, may sweeten it with plunder."
He looked young again, as if relieved from some burden on his mind, andthe thought flashed through his brain whether revenge were not sweeterthan love.
No one spoke. Even Theocritus, on whose lips a word of flattery orapplause was always ready, looked down in his dismay; but Caracalla, inhis frenzy of excitement, heeded nothing.
The hideous suggestion of Zminis seemed to him worthy of his greatnessby its mere enormity. It must be carried out. Ever since he hadfirst donned the purple he had made it his aim to be feared. If thistremendous deed were done, he need never frown again at those whom hewished to terrify.
And then, what a revenge! If Melissa should hear of it, what an effectit must have on her!
To work, then!
And he added in a gentler tone, as if he had a delightful surprise instore for some old friend:
"But silence, perfect silence--do you hear?--till all is ready.--You,Zminis, may begin on the pipers in the stadium and the chatterers in theMuseum. The prize for soldiers and lictors alike lies in the merchants'chests."
Still no one spoke; and now he observed it. His scheme was too grand forthese feeble spirits. He must teach them to silence their conscienceand the voice of Roman rectitude; he must take on himself the wholeresponsibility of this deed, at which the timid quaked. So he drewhimself up to his full height, and, affecting not to see the hesitancyof his companions, he said, in a tone of cheerful confidence:
"Let each man do his part. All I ask of you is to carry out the sentenceI pronounce as a judge. You know the crime of the citizens of this town,and, by virtue of the power I exercise over life and death, be it knownto all that I, Caesar, condemn--mark the word, condemn--every free maleof Alexandria, of whatever age or rank, to die by the sword of a Romanwarrior! This is a conquered city, which has forfeited every claim toquarter. The blood and the treasure of the inhabitants are the prize ofmy soldiery. Only"--and he turned to Timotheus--"this house of your god,which has given me shelter, with the priests and the treasure of greatSerapis, are spared. Now it lies with each of you to show whether or nohe is faithful to me. All of you"--and he addressed his friends--"allwho do me service in avenging me for the audacious insults which havebeen offered to your sovereign, are assured of my imperial gratitude."
This declaration was not without effect, and murmurs of applauserose from the "friends" and favorites, though less enthusiasticthan Caracalla was accustomed to hear. But the feebleness of thisdemonstration made him all the prouder of his own undaunted resolve.
Macrinus was one of those who had most loudly approved him, andCaracalla rejoiced to think that this prudent counselor should advisehis drinking the cup of vengeance to the dregs. Intoxicated alreadybefore he had even sipped it, he called Macrinus and Zminis to his side,and with glowing looks impressed on them to take particular care thatMelissa, with her father, Alexander, and Diodoros were brought to himalive.
"And remember," he added, "there will be many weeping mothers here byto-morrow morning; but there is one I must see again, and that not as acorpse--that bedizened thing in red whom I saw in the Circus--I mean thewife of Seleukus, of the Kanopic way."