CHAPTER XXII
THE TRIUMPH
Another week went by and the eve of the Triumph was at hand. On theafternoon before the great day sewing-women had come to the house ofGallus, bringing with them the robe that Miriam must wear. As had beenpromised, it was splendid, of white silk covered with silver discs andhaving the picture of the gate Nicanor fashioned on the breast, but cutso low that it shamed Miriam to put it on.
"It is naught, it is naught," said Julia. "The designer has made it thusthat the multitude may see those pearls from which you take your name."But to herself she thought: "Oh! monstrous age, and monstrous men, whoseeyes can delight in the disgrace of a poor unfriended maiden. Surelythe cup of iniquity of my people is full, and they shall drink it to thedregs!"
That same afternoon also came an assistant of the officer, who wascalled the Marshal, with orders to Gallus as to when and where he was todeliver over his charge upon the morrow. With him he brought a packet,which, when opened, proved to contain a splendid golden girdle,fashioned to the likeness of a fetter. The clasp was an amethyst,and round it were cut these words: "The gift of Domitian to her whoto-morrow shall be his."
Miriam threw the thing from her as though it were a snake.
"I will not wear it," she said. "I say that I will not wear it; at leastto-day I am my own," while Julia groaned and Gallus cursed beneath hisbreath.
Knowing her sore plight, that evening there came to visit her one of theelders of the Christian Church in Rome, a bishop named Cyril, who hadbeen the friend and disciple of the Apostle Peter. To him the poor girlpoured out all the agony of her heart.
"Oh! my father, my father in Christ," she said, "I swear to you thatwere I not of our holy faith, rather than endure this shame I would slaymyself to-night! Other dangers have I passed, but they have been of thebody alone, whereas this----. Pity me and tell me, you in whose ear Godspeaks, tell me, what must I do?"
"Daughter," answered the grave and gentle man, "you must trust in God.Did He not save you in the house at Tyre? Did He not save you in thestreets of Jerusalem? Did He not save you on the gate Nicanor?"
"He did," answered Miriam.
"Aye, daughter, and so shall He save you in the slave-market of Rome. Ihave a message for your ear, and it is that no shame shall come nearto you. Tread your path, drink your cup, and fear nothing, for the Lordshall send His angel to protect you until such time as it pleases Him totake you to Himself."
Miriam looked at him, and as she looked peace fell upon her soul andshone in her soft eyes.
"I hear the word of the Lord spoken through the mouth of His messenger,"she said, "and henceforth I will strive to fear nothing, no, not evenDomitian."
"Least of all Domitian, daughter, that son of Satan, whom Satan shallpay in his own coin."
Then going to the door he summoned Julia, and while Gallus watchedwithout, the two of them prayed long and earnestly with Miriam. Whentheir prayer was finished the bishop rose, blessed her, and bade herfarewell.
"I leave you, daughter," he said, "but though you see him not, anothertakes my place. Do you believe?"
"I have said that I believe," murmured Miriam.
Indeed, in those days when men still lived who had seen the Christ andHis voice still echoed through the world, to the strong faith of Hisfollowers, it was not hard to credit that His angel did descend to earthto protect and save at their Master's bidding.
So Cyril, the bishop, went, and that night from many a catacomb prayersrose up to Heaven for Miriam in her peril. That night also she sleptpeacefully.
Two hours before the dawn, Julia awoke her and arrayed her in theglittering, hateful garments. When all was ready, with tears she badeher farewell.
"Child, child," she said, "you have become to me as my own daughter was,and now I know not how and when we shall meet again."
"Perhaps sooner than you think," Miriam answered. "But if not, if,indeed, I speak to you for the last time, why, then, my blessings on youwho have played a mother's part to a helpless maid that was no kin ofyours. Yes, and on you Gallus also, who have kept me safe through somany dangers."
"And who hopes, dear one, to keep you safe through many more. SinceI may not swear by the gods before you, I swear it by the Eagles thatDomitian will do well to have a care how he deals by you. To him I oweno fealty and, as has been proved before to-day, the sword of vengeancecan reach the heart of princes."
"Aye, Gallus," said Miriam gently, "but let it not be your sword, nor, Itrust, shall you need to think of vengeance."
Then the litter was brought into the courtyard, with the guards thatwere sent to accompany it, and they started for the gathering-placebeyond the Triumphal Way. Dark though it still was, all Rome was astir.On every side shone torches, from every house and street rose the murmurof voices, for the mighty city made herself ready to celebrate thegreatest festival which her inhabitants had seen. Even now at times thepress was so dense that the soldiers were obliged to force a way throughthe crowd, which poured outwards to find good places along the line ofthe Triumph, or to take up their station on stands of timber, and inhouses they had hired, whose roofs, balconies and windows commanded thepath of the pageant.
They crossed the Tiber. This Miriam knew by the roar of the waterbeneath, and because the crush upon the narrow bridge was so great.Thence she was borne along through country comparatively open, to thegateways of some large building, where she was ordered to dismount fromthe litter. Here officers were waiting who took charge of her, giving toGallus a written receipt for her person. Then, either because he wouldnot trust himself to bid her farewell, or because he did not think itwise to do so in the presence of the officers, Gallus turned and lefther without a word.
"Come on, girl," said a man, but a secretary, looking up from histablets, called to him:
"Gently there with that lot, or you will hear about it. She isPearl-Maiden, the captive who made the quarrel between the Caesars andDomitian, of which all Rome is talking. Gently, I tell you, gently, formany free princesses are worth less to-day."
Hearing this, the man bowed to Miriam, almost with reverence, andbegged her to follow him to a place that had been set apart for her. Sheobeyed, passing through a great number of people, of whom all she couldsee in the gloom of the breaking dawn was that, like herself, they werecaptives, to a little chamber where she was left alone watching thelight grow through the lattice, and listening to the hum of voicesthat rose without, mingled now and again with sobs and wails of grief.Presently the door opened and a servant entered with bread on a platterand milk in an earthenware vessel. These she took thankfully, knowingthat she would need food to support her during the long day, butscarcely had she begun to eat when a slave appeared clad in the imperiallivery, and bearing a tray of luxurious meats served in silver vessels.
"Pearl-Maiden," he said, "my master, Domitian, sends you greeting andthis present. The vessels are your own, and will be kept for you, but hebids me add, that to-night you shall sup off dishes of gold."
Miriam made no answer, though one rose to her lips; but after the manhad departed, with her foot she overset the tray so that the silvervases fell clattering to the floor, where the savory meats werespilled. Then she went on eating the bread and milk till her hunger wassatisfied.
Scarcely had she finished her meal, when an officer entered the cell andled her out into a great square, where she was marshalled amongst manyother prisoners. By now the sun was up and she saw before her a splendidbuilding, and gathered below the building all the Senate of Rome intheir robes, and many knights on horses, and nobles, and princes fromevery country with their retinues--a very wonderful and gallant sight.In front of the building were cloisters, before which were set two ivorychairs, while to right and left of these chairs, as far as the eye couldreach, were drawn up thousand upon thousands of soldiers; the Senate,the Knights and the Princes, as she could see from the rising groundwhereon she stood, being in front of them and of the chairs. Presentlyfrom the cloisters, clad in garments of silk and w
earing crowns oflaurel, appeared the Caesars, Vespasian and Titus, attended by Domitianand their staffs. As they came the soldiers saw them and set up a mightytriumphant shout which sounded like the roar of the sea, that enduredwhile the Caesars sat themselves upon their thrones. Up and up wentthe sound of the continual shouting, till at length Vespasian rose andlifted his hand.
Then silence fell and, covering his head with his cloak, he seemed tomake some prayer, after which Titus also covered his head with hiscloak and offered a prayer. This done, Vespasian addressed the soldiers,thanking them for their bravery and promising them rewards, whereon theyshouted again until they were marched off to the feast that had beenmade ready. Now the Caesars vanished and the officers began to order thegreat procession, of which Miriam could see neither the beginning northe end. All she knew was that before her in lines eight wide weremarshalled two thousand or more Jewish prisoners bound together withropes, among whom, immediately in front of her, were a few women. Nextshe came, walking by herself, and behind her, also walking by himself, adark, sullen-looking man, clad in a white robe and a purple cloak, witha gilded chain about his neck.
Looking at him she wondered where she had seen his face, which seemedfamiliar to her. Then there rose before her mind a vision of the Courtof the Sanhedrim sitting in the cloisters of the Temple, and of herselfstanding there before them. She remembered that this man was seated nextto that Simeon who had been so bitter against her and pronounced uponher the cruel sentence of death, also that some one in the crowd hadaddressed him as Simon, the son of Gioras, none other than the savagegeneral whom the Jews had admitted into the city to make way upon theZealot, John of Gischala. From that day to this she had heard nothingof him till now they met again, the judge and the victim, caught in acommon net. Presently, in the confusion they were brought together andhe knew her.
"Are you Miriam, the grand-daughter of Benoni?" he asked.
"I am Miriam," she answered, "whom you, Simon, and your fellows doomedto a cruel death, but who have been preserved----"
"----To walk in a Roman Triumph. Better that you had died, maiden, atthe hands of your own people."
"Better that you had died, Simon, at your own hands, or at those of theRomans."
"That I am about to do," he replied bitterly. "Fear not, woman, you willbe avenged."
"I ask no vengeance," she answered. "Nay, cruel as you are I grieve thatyou, a great captain, should have come to this."
"I grieve also, maiden. Your grandsire, old Benoni, chose the betterpart."
Then the soldiers separated them and they spoke no more.
An hour passed and the procession began its march along the TriumphalWay. Of it Miriam could see little. All she knew was that in front therewere ranks of fettered prisoners, while behind men carried upontrays and tables the golden vessels of the Temple, the seven-branchedcandlestick and the ancient sacred book of the Jewish law. They werefollowed by other men, who bore aloft images of victory in ivory andgold. Then, although these did not join them till they reached the PortaTriumphalis, or the Gate of Pomp, attended, each of them, by lictorshaving their fasces wreathed with laurel, came the Caesars. First wentVespasian Caesar, the father. He rode in a splendid golden chariot, towhich were harnessed four white horses led by Libyan soldiers. Behindhim stood a slave clad in a dull robe, set there to avert the influenceof the evil eye and of the envious gods, who held a crown above the headof the Imperator, and now and again whispered in his ear the ominouswords, _Respice post te, hominem memento te_ ("Look back at me andremember thy mortality.")
After Vespasian Caesar, the father, came Titus Caesar, the son, but hischariot was of silver, and graved upon its front was a picture of theHoly House of the Jews melting in the flames. Like his father he wasattired in the _toga picta_ and _tunica palmata_, the gold-embroideredover-robe and the tunic laced with silver leaves, while in his righthand he held a laurel bough, and in his left a sceptre. He also wasattended by a slave who whispered in his ear the message of mortality.
Next to the chariot of Titus, alongside of it indeed, and as littlebehind as custom would allow, rode Domitian, gloriously arrayed andmounted on a splendid steed. Then came the tribunes and the knightson horseback, and after them the legionaries to the number of fivethousand, every man of them having his spear wreathed in laurel.
Now the great procession was across the Tiber, and, following itsappointed path down broad streets and past palaces and temples, drewslowly towards its object, the shrine of Jupiter Capitolinus, that stoodat the head of the Sacred Way beyond the Forum. Everywhere the sidepaths, the windows of houses, the great scaffoldings of timber, and thesteps of temples were crowded with spectators. Never before did Miriamunderstand how many people could inhabit a single city. They passed themby thousands and by tens of thousands, and still, far as the eye couldreach, stretched the white sea of faces. Ahead that sea would be quiet,then, as the procession pierced it, it began to murmur. Presentlythe murmur grew to a shout, the shout to a roar, and when the Caesarsappeared in their glittering chariots, the roar to a triumphant pealwhich shook the street like thunder. And so on for miles and miles, tillMiriam's eyes were dim with the glare and glitter, and her head swam atthe ceaseless sound of shouting.
Often the procession would halt for a while, either because of a checkto one of the pageants in front, or in order that some of its membersmight refresh themselves with drink which was brought to them. Then thecrowd, ceasing from its cheers, would make jokes, and criticise whateverperson or thing they chanced to be near. Greatly did they criticiseMiriam in this fashion, or at the least she thought so, who mustlisten to it all. Most of them, she found, knew her by her name ofPearl-Maiden, and pointed out to each other the necklace about herthroat. Many, too, had heard something of her story, and looked eagerlyat the picture of the gate Nicanor blazoned upon her breast. But thegreater part concerned themselves only with her delicate beauty, passingfrom mouth to mouth the gossip concerning Domitian, his quarrel with theCaesars, and the intention which he had announced of buying this captiveat the public sale. Always it was the same talk; sometimes more brutaland open than others--that was the only difference.
Once they halted thus in the street of palaces through which they passednear to the Baths of Agrippa. Here the endless comments began again, butMiriam tried to shut her ears to it and looked about her. To her leftwas a noble-looking house built of white marble, but she noticed thatits shutters were closed, also that it was undecorated with garlands,and idly wondered why. Others wondered too, for when they had weariedof discussing her points, she heard one plebeian ask another whose housethat was and why it had been shut up upon this festal day. His fellowanswered that he could not remember the owner's name, but he was a richnoble who had fallen in the Jewish wars, and that the palace was closedbecause it was not yet certain who was his heir.
At that moment her attention was distracted by a sound of groans andlaughter coming from behind. She looked round to see that the wretchedJewish general, Simon, had sunk fainting to the ground, overcome bythe heat, or the terrors of his mind, or by the sufferings which he wasforced to endure at the hands of his cruel guards, who flogged him ashe walked, for the pleasure of the people. Now they were beating him tolife again with their rods; hence the laughter of the audience and thegroans of the victim. Sick at heart, Miriam turned away from this horridsight, to hear a tall man, whose back was towards her, but who was cladin the rich robes of an Eastern merchant, asking one of the marshals ofthe Triumph, in a foreign accent, whether it was true that the captivePearl-Maiden was to be sold that evening in the auction-mart of theForum. The marshal answered yes, such were the orders as regarded herand the other women, since there was no convenient place to house them,and it was thought best to be rid of them and let their masters takethem home at once.
"Does she please you, sir? Are you going to bid?" he added. "If so, youwill find yourself in high company."
"Perhaps, perhaps," answered the man with a shrug of his shoulders.
Th
en he vanished into the crowd.
Now, for the first time that day, Miriam's spirit seemed to fail her.The weariness of her body, the foul talk, the fouler cruelty, the colddiscussion of the sale of human beings to the first-comer as though theywere sheep or swine, the fear of her fate that night, pressed upon andovercame her mind, so that she felt inclined, like Simon, the son ofGioras, to sink fainting to the pavement and lie there till the cruelrods beat her to her feet again. Hope sank low and faith grew dim, whilein her heart she wondered vaguely what was the meaning of it all, andwhy poor men and women were made to suffer thus for the pleasure ofother men and women; wondered also what escape there could be for her.
While she mused thus, like a ray of light through the clouds, a senseof consolation, sweet as it was sudden, seemed to pierce the darknessof her bitter thoughts. She knew not whence it came, nor what it mightportend, yet it existed, and the source of it seemed near to her. Shescanned the faces of the crowd, finding pity in a few, curiosity inmore, but in most gross admiration if they were men, or scorn of hermisfortune and jealousy of her loveliness if they were women. Not fromamong these did that consolation flow. She looked up to the sky, halfexpecting to see there that angel of the Lord into whose keeping thebishop, Cyril, had delivered her. But the skies were empty and brazenas the faces of the Roman crowd; not a cloud could be seen in them, muchless an angel.
As her eyes sank earthwards their glance fell upon one of the windows ofthe marble house to her left. If she remembered right some few minutesbefore the shutters of that window had been closed, now they were open,revealing two heavy curtains of blue embroidered silk. Miriam thoughtthis strange, and, without seeming to do so, kept her eyes fixed uponthe curtains. Presently, for her sight was good, she saw fingers betweenthem--long, dark-coloured fingers. Then very slowly the curtains wereparted, and in the opening thus made appeared a face, the face of an oldwoman, dark and noble looking and crowned with snow-white hair. Even atthat distance Miriam knew it in an instant.
Oh, Heaven! it was the face of Nehushta, Nehushta whom she thought dead,or at least for ever lost. For a moment Miriam was paralysed, wonderingwhether this was not some vision born of the turmoil and excitement ofthat dreadful day. Nay, surely it was no vision, surely it was Nehushtaherself who looked at her with loving eyes, for see! she made the signof the cross in the air before her, the symbol of Christian hope andgreeting, then laid her finger upon her lips in token of secrecy andsilence. The curtain closed and she was gone, who not five secondsbefore had so mysteriously appeared.
Miriam's knees gave way beneath her, and while the marshals shoutedto the procession to set forward, she felt that she must sink to theground. Indeed, she would have fallen had not some woman in the crowdstepped forward and thrust a goblet of wine into her hands, saying:
"Drink that, Pearl-Maiden, it will make your pale cheeks even prettierthan they are."
The words were coarse, but Miriam, looking at the woman, knew her forone of the Christian community with whom she had worshipped in thecatacombs. So she took the cup, fearing nothing, and drank it off. Thennew strength came to her, and she went forward with the others on thattoilsome, endless march.
At length, however, it did end, an hour or so before sunset. They hadpassed miles of streets; they had trodden the Sacred Way bordered byfanes innumerable and adorned with statues set on columns; and nowmarched up the steep slope that was crowned by the glorious temple ofJupiter Capitolinus. As they began to climb it guards broke into theirlines, and seizing the chain that hung about the neck of Simon, draggedhim away.
"Whither do they take you?" asked Miriam as he passed her.
"To what I desire--death," he answered, and was gone.
Now the Caesars, dismounting from their chariots, took up their stationsby altars at the head of the steps, while beneath them, rank upon rank,gathered all those who had shared their Triumph, each company in itsallotted place. Then followed a long pause, the multitude waiting forMiriam knew not what. Presently men were seen running from the Forum upa path that had been left open, one of them carrying in his hand someobject wrapped in a napkin. Arriving in face of the Caesars he threwaside the cloth and held up before them and in sight of all the peoplethe grizzly head of Simon, the son of Gioras. By this public murder ofa brave captain of their foes was consummated the Triumph of the Romans,and at the sight of its red proof trumpets blew, banners waved, and fromhalf a million throats went up a shout of victory that seemed to rendthe very skies, for the multitude was drunk with the glory of its brutalvengeance.
Then silence was called, and there before the Temple of Jove the beastswere slain, and the Caesars offered sacrifice to the gods that had giventhem victory.
Thus ended the Triumph of Vespasian and Titus, and with it the recordof the struggle of the Jews against the iron beak and claws of the RomanEagle.