CHAPTER XVI.
Pontius did not find the Emperor at Lochias, for Hadrian had moved atmid-day to the Caesareum. The strong smell of burning in every roomin the palace had sickened him and he had begun to regard the restoredbuilding as a doomed scene of disaster. The architect was waited forwith much anxiety, for the rooms originally furnished for the Emperor inthe Caesareum had been despoiled and disarranged to decorate the roomsat Lochias, and Pontius was wanted to superintend their immediaterehabilitation. A chariot was waiting for him and there was no lack ofslaves, so he began this fresh task at once and devoted himself toit till late at night. It was in vain this time that his anteroom wasfilled with people waiting for his return.
Hadrian had retired to some rooms which formed part of his wife'sapartments. He was in a grave mood, and when the prefect Titianus wasannounced he kept him waiting till, with his own hand, he had laid afresh dressing on his favorite's burns.
"Go now, my lord," begged the Bithynian, when the Emperor had finishedhis task with all the skill of a surgeon: "Titianus has been walking upand down in there for the last quarter of an hour."
"And so he may," said the monarch. "And if the whole world is shriekingfor me it must wait till these faithful hands have had their due. Yes,my boy! we will wander on through life together, inseparable comrades.Others indeed do the same, and each one who goes through life side byside with a companion sharing all he enjoys or suffers, comes to thinkat last that he knows him as he knows himself; still the inmost core ofhis friend's nature remains concealed from him. Then, some day Fate letsa storm come raging down upon them; the last veil is torn, under thewanderer's eyes, from the very heart of his companion, and at last hereally sees him as he is, like a kernel stripped of its shell, a bareand naked body. Last night such a blast swept over us and let me seethe heart of my Antinous, as plainly as this hand I hold before my eyes.Yes, yes, yes! for the man who will risk his young and happy existencefor a thing his friend holds precious would sacrifice ten lives if hehad them, for his friend's person. Never, my friend, shall that night beforgotten. It gives you the right to do much that might pain me, andhas graven your name on my heart, the foremost among those to whom I amindebted for any benefit.--They are but few."
Hadrian held out his hand to Antinous as he spoke. The boy, who had kepthis eyes fixed on the ground in much confusion, raised it to his lipsand pressed it against them in violent agitation. Then he raised hislarge eyes to the Emperor's and said:
"You must not speak to me so kindly, for I do not deserve such goodness.What is my life after all? I would let it go, as a child leaves go of abeetle it has caught, to spare you one single anxious day."
"I know it," answered Hadrian firmly, and he went to the prefect in theadjoining room.
Titianus had come in obedience to Hadrian's orders; the matter to besettled was what indemnification was to be paid to the city and tothe individual owners of the storehouses that had been destroyed, forHadrian had caused a decree to be proclaimed that no one should sufferany loss through a misfortune sent by the gods and which had originatedin his residence. The prefect had already instituted the necessaryinquiries and the private secretaries, Phlegon, Heliodorus and Celer,were now charged with the duty of addressing documents to the injuredparties in which they were invited, in the name of Caesar, to declarethe truth as to the amount of the loss they had suffered. Titianusalso brought the information that the Greeks and Jews had determinedto express their thankfulness for Caesar's preservation by greatthank-offerings.
"And the Christians," asked Hadrian.
"They abominate the sacrifice of animals, but they will unite in acommon act of thanksgiving."
"Their gratitude will not cost them much," said Hadrian.
"Their bishop, Eumenes, brought me a sum of money for which a hundredoxen might be bought, to distribute among the poor. He said the God ofthe Christians is a spirit and requires none but spiritual sacrifices;that the best offering a man can bring him is a prayer prompted by thespirit and proceeding from a loving heart."
"That sounds very well for us," said Hadrian. "But it will not do forthe people. Philosophical doctrines do not tend to piety; the populaceneed visible gods and tangible sacrifices. Are the Christians here goodcitizens and devoted to the welfare of the state?"
"We need no courts of justice for them."
"Then take their money and distribute it among the needy; but I mustforbid their meeting for a general thanksgiving; they may raise theirhands to their great spirit in my behalf, in private. Their doctrinemust not be brought into publicity; it is not devoid of a delusive charmand it is indispensable to the safety of the state that the mob shouldremain faithful to the old gods and sacrifices."
"As you command, Caesar."
"You know the account given of the Christians by Pliny and Trajan?"
"And Trajan's answer."
"Well then let us leave them to follow their own devices in privateafter their own fashion; only they must not commit any breach of thelaws of the state nor force themselves into publicity. As soon as theyshow any disposition to refuse to the old gods the respect that is dueto them, or to raise a finger against them, severity must be exercisedand every excess must be punished by death."
During this conversation Verus had entered the room; he was followingthe Emperor everywhere to-day for he hoped to hear him say a word as tohis observation of the heavens, and yet he did not dare to ask him whathe had discovered from them.
When he saw that Hadrian was occupied he made a chamberlain conduct himto Antinous. The favorite turned pale as he saw the praetor, stillhe retained enough presence of mind to wish him all happiness on hisbirthday. It did not escape Verus that his presence had startledthe lad; he therefore plied him at first with indifferent questions,introduced pleasing anecdotes into his conversation and then, when hehad gained his purpose, he added carelessly:
"I must thank you in the name of the state and of every friend ofCaesar's. You carried out your undertaking well to the end, though bysomewhat overpowering means."
"I entreat you say no more," interrupted Antinous eagerly, and lookinganxiously at the door of the next room.
"Oh! I would have sacrificed all Alexandria to preserve Caesar's mindfrom gloom and care. Besides we have both paid dearly for our goodintentions and for those wretched sheds."
"Pray talk of something else."
"You sit there with your hands bound up and your hair singed, and I feelvery unwell."
"Hadrian said you had helped valiantly in the rescue."
"I was sorry for the poor rats whose gathered store of provisions theflames were so rapidly devouring, and all hot as I was from my supper, Iflung myself in among the men who were extinguishing the fire. My firstreward was a bath of cold, icy-cold sea-water, which was poured over myhead out of a full skin. All doctrines of ethics are in disgrace withme, and I have long considered all the dramatic poets, in whose piecesvirtue is rewarded and crime punished, as a pack of fools; for mypleasantest hours are all due to my worst deeds; and sheer annoyance andmisery, to my best. No hyena can laugh more hoarsely that I now speak;some portion of me inside here, seems to have been turned into ahedgehog whose spines prick and hurt me, and all this because I allowedmyself to be led away into doing things which the moralists laud asvirtuous."
"You cough, and you do not look well. He down awhile."
"On my birthday? No, my young friend. And now let me just ask you beforeI go: Can you tell me what Hadrian read in the stars?"
"No."
"Not even if I put my Perseus at your orders for every thing you mayrequire of him? The man knows Alexandria and is as dumb as a fish."
"Not even then, for what I do not know I cannot tell. We are both ofus ill, and I tell you once more you will be wise to take care ofyourself." Verus left the room, and Antinous watched him go with muchrelief.
The praetor's visit had filled him with disquietude, and had added tothe dislike he felt for him. He knew that he had been used to base endsby Ver
us, for Hadrian had told him so much as that he had gone up tothe observatory not to question the stars for himself but to cast thepraetor's horoscope, and that he had informed Verus of his intention.
There was no excuse, no forgiveness possible for the deed he had done;to please that dissolute coxcomb, that mocking hypocrite, he hadbecome a traitor to his master and an incendiary, and must endure tobe overwhelmed with praises and thanks by the greatest and mostkeen-sighted of men. He hated, he abhorred himself, and asked himselfwhy the fire which had blazed around him had been satisfied only toinflict slight injuries on his hands and hair. When Hadrian returned tohim he asked his permission to go to bed. The Emperor gladly grantedit, ordered Mastor to watch by his side, and then agreed to his wife'srequest that he would visit her.
Sabina had not been to the scene of the fire, but she had sent amessenger every hour to inquire as to the progress of the conflagrationand the well-being of her husband. When he had first arrived at theCaesareum she had met and welcomed him and then had retired to her ownapartments.
It wanted only two hours of midnight when Hadrian entered her room; hefound her reclining on a couch without the jewels she usually wore inthe daytime but dressed as for a banquet.
"You wished to speak with me?" said the Emperor. "Yes, and this day--sofull of remarkable events as it has been--has also a remarkable closesince I have not wished in vain."
"You so rarely give me the opportunity of gratifying a wish."
"And do you complain of that?"
"I might--for instead of wishing you are wont to demand."
"Let us cease this strife of idle words."
"Willingly. With what object did you send for me?"
"Verus is to-day keeping his birthday."
"And you would like to know what the stars promise him?"
"Rather how the signs in the heavens have disposed you towards him."
"I had but little time to consider what I saw. But at any rate the starspromise him a brilliant future."
A gleam of joy shone in Sabina's eyes, but she forced herself to keepcalm and asked, indifferently:
"You admit that, and yet you can come to no decision?"
"Then you want to hear the decisive word spoken at once, to-day?"
"You know that without my answering you."
"Well, then, his star outshines mine and compels me to be on my guardagainst him."
"How mean! You are afraid of the praetor?"
"No, but of his fortune which is bound up with you?"
"When he is our son his greatness will be ours."
"By no means, since if I make him what you wish him to be, he willcertainly try to make our greatness his. Destiny--"
"You said it favored him; but unfortunately I must dispute thestatement."
"You? Do you try too, to read the stars?"
"No, I leave that to men. Have you heard of Ammonius, the astrologer?"
"Yes. A very learned man who observes from the tower of the Serapeum,and who, like many of his fellows in this city has made use of his artto accumulate a large fortune."
"No less a man than the astronomer Claudius Ptolemaeus referred me tohim."
"The best of recommendation."
"Well, then, I commissioned Ammonius to cast the horoscope for Verusduring the past night and he brought it to me with an explanatory key.Here it is."
The Emperor hastily seized the tablet which Sabina held out to him, andas he attentively examined the forecasts, arranged in order according tothe hours, he said:
"Quite right. That of course did not escape me! Well done, exactly thesame as my own observations--but here--stay--here comes the third hour,at the beginning of which I was interrupted. Eternal gods! what have wehere?"
The Emperor held the wax tablet prepared by Aminonius at arm's lengthfrom his eyes and never parted his lips again till he had come to theend of the last hour of the night. Then he dropped the hand that heldthe horoscope, saying with a shudder:
"A hideous destiny. Horace was right in saying the highest towers fallwith the greatest crash."
"The tower of which you speak," said Sabina, "is that darling offortune of whom you are afraid. Vouchsafe then to Verus a brief space ofhappiness before the horrible end you foresee for him."
While she spoke Hadrian sat with his eyes thoughtfully fixed on theground, and then, standing in front of his wife, he replied:
"If no sinister catastrophe falls upon this man, the stars and the fateof men have no more to do with one another than the sea with the heartof the desert, than the throb of men's pulses with the pebbles in thebrook. If Ammonius has erred ten times over still more than ten signsremain on this tablet, hostile and fatal to the praetor. I grieve forVerus--but the state suffers with the sovereign's misfortunes.--This mancan never be my successor."
"No?" asked Sabina rising from her couch. "No? Not when you have seenthat your own star outlives his? Not though a glance at this tabletshows you that when he is nothing but ashes the world will stillcontinue long to obey your nod?"
"Compose yourself and give me time.--Yes, I still say not even so."
"Not even so," repeated Sabina sullenly. Then, collecting herself, sheasked in a tone of vehement entreaty:
"Not even so--not even if I lift my hands to you in supplication andcry in your face that you and Fate have grudged me the blessing, thehappiness, the crown and aim of a woman's life, and I must and I willattain it; I must and I will once, if only for a short time, hearmyself called by some dear lips by the name which gives the veriestbeggar-woman with her infant in her arms preeminence above the Empresswho has never stood by a child's cradle. I must and I will, before Idie, be a mother, be called mother and be able to say, 'my child, myson--our son.'" And as she spoke she sobbed aloud and covered her facewith her hands.
The Emperor drew back a step from his wife. A miracle had beenwrought before his eyes. Sabina--in whose eyes no tear had ever beenseen--Sabina was weeping, Sabina had a heart like other women. Greatlyastonished and deeply moved he saw her turn from him, utterly shaken bythe agitation of her feelings, and sink on her knees by the side ofthe couch she had quitted to hide her face in the cushions. He stoodmotionless by her side, but presently going nearer to her:
"Stand up, Sabina," he said. "Your desire is a just one. You shall havethe son for whom your soul longs."
The Empress rose and a grateful look in her eyes, swimming in tears, methis glance. Sabina could smile too, she could look sweet! It had taken alifetime, it had needed such a moment as this to reveal it to Hadrian.
He silently drew a seat towards her and sat down by her side; for sometime he sat with her hand clasped in his, in silence. Then he let it goand said kindly:
"And will Verus fulfil all you expect of a son?" She nodded assent.
"What makes you so confident of that?" asked the Emperor. "He is a Romanand not lacking in brilliant and estimable gifts. A man who shows suchmettle alike in the field and in the council-chamber and yet can playthe part of Eros with such success will also know how to wear the purplewithout disgracing it. But he has his mother's light blood, and hisheart flutters hither and thither."
"Let him be as he is. We understand each other and he is the only man onwhose disposition I can build, on whose fidelity I can count as securelyas if he were my favorite son."
"And on what facts is this confidence based?"
"You will understand me, for you are not blind to the signs which Fatevouchsafes to us. Have you time to listen to a short story?"
"The night is yet young."
"Then I will tell you. Forgive me if I begin with things that seem deadand gone; but they are not, for they live and work in me to this hour. Iknow that you yourself did not choose me for your wife. Plotina choseme for you--she loved you, whether your regard for her was for thebeautiful woman or for the wife of Caesar to whom everything belongedthat you had to look for--how should I know?"
"It was Plotina, the woman, that I honored and loved--"
"In choosing me s
he chose you a wife who was tall and so fitted to wearthe purple, but who was never beautiful. She knew me well and she knewthat I was less apt than any other woman to win hearts; in my parents'house no child ever enjoyed so slender a share of the gifts of love,and none can know better than you that my husband did not spoil me withtenderness."
"I could repent of it at this moment."
"It would be too late now. But I will not be bitter--no, indeed I willnot. And yet if you are to understand me I must own that so long as Iwas young I longed bitterly for the love which no one offered me."
"And you yourself have never loved?"
"No--but it pained me that I could not. In Plotina's apartments I oftensaw the children of her relations, and many a time I tried to attractthem to me, but while they would play confidently with other women theyseemed to shun me. Soon I even grew cross to them--only our Verus, thelittle son of Celonius Commodus, would give me frank answers when Ispoke to him, and would bring me his broken toys that I might mend theirinjuries. And so I got to love the child."
"He was a wonderfully sweet, attractive boy."
"He was indeed. One day we women were all sitting together in Caesar'sgarden. Verus came running out with a particularly fine apple thatTrajan himself had given him. The rosy-cheeked fruit was admired byevery one. Then Plotina, in fun took the apple out of the boy's hand andasked him if he would not give his apple to her. He looked at her withwide-open puzzled eyes, shook his curly head, ran up to me and gaveme--yes, me, and no one else--the fruit, throwing his arms round my neckand saying, 'Sabina you shall have it.'"
"The judgment of Paris."
"Nay, do not jest now. This action of an unselfish child gave me courageto endure the troubles of life. I knew now that there was one creaturethat loved me, and that one repaid all that I felt for him, all thatI was never weary of doing for him with affectionate liking. He is theonly being, of whom I know, that will weep when I die. Give him theright to call me his mother and make him our son."
"He is our son," said Hadrian, with dignified gravity, and held out hishand to Sabina. She tried to lift it to her lips but he drew it away andwent on:
"Inform him that we accept him as our son. His wife is the daughter ofNigrinus--who had to go, as I desired to stay and stand firm. You donot love Lucilla, but we must both admire her for I do not know anotherwoman in Rome whose virtue a man might vouch for. Besides, I owe her afather, and am glad to have such a daughter; thus we shall be blessedwith children. Whether I shall appoint Verus my successor and proclaimto the world who shall be its future ruler I cannot now decide; forthat I need a calmer hour. Till to-morrow, Sabina. This day began witha misfortune; may the deed with which we have combined to end it prosperand bring us happiness."