Hypatia — or New Foes with an Old Face

  CHAPTER II: THE DYING WORLD

  In the upper story of a house in the Museum Street of Alexandria, builtand fitted up on the old Athenian model, was a small room. It had beenchosen by its occupant, not merely on account of its quiet; for thoughit was tolerably out of hearing of the female slaves who worked, andchattered, and quarrelled under the cloisters of the women's court onthe south side, yet it was exposed to the rattle of carriages and thevoices of passengers in the fashionable street below, and to strangebursts of roaring, squealing, trumpeting from the Menagerie, a short wayoff, on the opposite side of the street. The attraction of the situationlay, perhaps, in the view which it commanded over the wall of the Museumgardens, of flower-beds, shrubberies, fountains, statues, walks, andalcoves, which had echoed for nearly seven hundred years to the wisdomof the Alexandrian sages and poets. School after school, they had allwalked, and taught, and sung there, beneath the spreading planes andchestnuts, figs and palm-trees. The place seemed fragrant with allthe riches of Greek thought and song, since the days when PtolemyPhiladelphus walked there with Euclid and Theocritus, Callimachus andLycophron.

  On the left of the garden stretched the lofty eastern front ofthe Museum itself, with its picture galleries, halls of statuary,dining-halls, and lecture-rooms; one huge wing containing that famouslibrary, founded by the father of Philadelphus, which hold in the timeof Seneca, even after the destruction of a great part of it in Caesar'ssiege, four hundred thousand manuscripts. There it towered up, thewonder of the world, its white roof bright against the rainless blue;and beyond it, among the ridges and pediments of noble buildings, abroad glimpse of the bright blue sea.

  The room was fitted up in the purest Greek style, not without anaffectation of archaism, in the severe forms and subdued half-tints ofthe frescoes which ornamented the walls with scenes from the old mythsof Athene. Yet the general effect, even under the blazing sun whichpoured in through the mosquito nets of the courtyard windows, was oneof exquisite coolness, and cleanliness, and repose. The room had neithercarpet nor fireplace; and the only movables in it were a sofa-bed, atable, and an arm-chair, all of such delicate and graceful forms as maybe seen on ancient vases of a far earlier period than that whereof wewrite. But, most probably, had any of us entered that room that morning,we should not have been able to spare a look either for the furniture,or the general effect, or the Museum gardens, or the sparklingMediterranean beyond; but we should have agreed that the room wasquite rich enough for human eyes, for the sake of one treasure which itpossessed, and, beside which, nothing was worth a moment's glance. Forin the light arm-chair, reading a manuscript which lay on the table, sata woman, of some five-and-twenty years, evidently the tutelary goddessof that little shrine, dressed in perfect keeping with the archaism ofthe chamber, in simple old snow-white Ionic robe, falling to the feetand reaching to the throat, and of that peculiarly severe and gracefulfashion in which the upper part of the dress falls downward again fromthe neck to the waist in a sort of cape, entirely hiding the outline ofthe bust, while it leaves the arms and the point of the shoulders bare.Her dress was entirely without ornament, except the two narrow purplestripes down the front, which marked her rank as a Roman citizen, thegold embroidered shoes upon her feet, and the gold net, which loopedback, from her forehead to her neck, hair the colour and gloss of whichwere hardly distinguishable from that of the metal itself, such asAthene herself might heaven vied for tint, and mass, and ripple. Herfeatures, arms, and hands were of the severest and grandest type of oldGreek beauty, at once showing everywhere the high development of thebones, and covering them with that firm, round, ripe outline, and waxymorbidezza of skin, which the old Greeks owed to their continual usenot only of the bath and muscular exercise, but also of daily unguents.There might have seemed to us too much sadness in that clear gray eye;too much self-conscious restraint in those sharp curved lips; too muchaffectation in the studied severity of her posture as she read, copied,as it seemed, from some old vase or bas-relief. But the glorious graceand beauty of every line of face and figure would have excused, evenhidden those defects, and we should have only recognised the markedresemblance to the ideal portraits of Athene which adorned every panelof the walls.

  She has lifted her eyes off her manuscript; she is looking out withkindling countenance over the gardens of the Museum; her ripe curlingGreek lips, such as we never see now, even among her own wives andsisters, open. She is talking to herself. Listen!

  'Yes. The statues there are broken. The libraries are plundered. Thealcoves are silent. The oracles are dumb. And yet--who says that the oldfaith of heroes and sages is dead? The beautiful can never die. If thegods have deserted their oracles, they have not deserted the souls whoaspire to them. If they have ceased to guide nations, they have notceased to speak to their own elect. If they have cast off the vulgarherd, they have not cast off Hypatia. ...............

  'Ay. To believe in the old creeds, while every one else is dropping awayfrom them.... To believe in spite of disappointments.... To hope againsthope.... To show oneself superior to the herd, by seeing boundlessdepths of living glory in myths which have become dark and deadto them.... To struggle to the last against the new and vulgarsuperstitions of a rotting age, for the faith of my forefathers, forthe old gods, the old heroes, the old sages who gauged the mysteries ofheaven and earth--and perhaps to conquer--at least to have my reward!To be welcomed into the celestial ranks of the heroic--to rise to theimmortal gods, to the ineffable powers, onward, upward ever, throughages and through eternities, till I find my home at last, and vanish inthe glory of the Nameless and the Absolute One!....

  And her whole face flashed out into wild glory, and then sank againsuddenly into a shudder of something like fear and disgust, as she saw,watching her from under the wall of the gardens opposite, a crooked,withered Jewish crone, dressed out in the most gorgeous and fantasticstyle of barbaric finery.

  'Why does that old hag haunt me? I see her everywhere--till the lastmonth at least--and here she is again! I will ask the prefect to findout who she is, and get rid of her, before she fascinates me with thatevil eye. Thank the gods, there she moves away! Foolish!--foolish of me,a philosopher. I, to believe, against the authority of Porphyry himself,too, in evil eyes and magic! But there is my father, pacing up and downin the library.'

  As she spoke, the old man entered from the next room. He was a Greek,also, but of a more common, and, perhaps, lower type; dark and fiery,thin and graceful; his delicate figure and cheeks, wasted by meditation,harmonised well with the staid and simple philosophic cloak which hewore as a sign of his profession. He paced impatiently up and down thechamber, while his keen, glittering eyes and restless gestures betokenedintense inward thought.... 'I have it.... No; again it escapes--itcontradicts itself. Miserable man that I am! If there is faith inPythagoras, the symbol should be an expanding series of the powers ofthree; and yet that accursed binary factor will introduce itself. Did notyou work the sum out once, Hypatia?'

  'Sit down, my dear father, and eat. You have tasted no food yet thisday.'

  'What do I care for food! The inexpressible must be expressed, the workmust be done if it cost me the squaring of the circle. How can he, whosesphere lies above the stars, stoop every moment to earth?

  'Ay,' she answered, half bitterly, 'and would that we could live withoutfood, and imitate perfectly the immortal gods. But while we are in thisprison-house of matter, we must wear our chain; even wear it gracefully,if we have the good taste; and make the base necessities of this bodyof shame symbolic of the divine food of the reason. There is fruit, withlentils and rice, waiting for you in the next room; and bread, unlessyou despise it too much.'

  'The food of slaves!' he answered. 'Well, I will eat, and be ashamed ofeating. Stay, did I tell you? Six new pupils in the mathematical schoolthis morning. It grows! It spreads! We shall conquer yet!'

  She sighed. 'How do you know that they have not come to you, as Critiasand Alcibiades did to Socrates, to learn a merely political and mundanevirtue?
Strange! that men should be content to grovel, and be men, whenthey might rise to the rank of gods! Ah, my father! That is my bitterestgrief! to see those who have been pretending in the morning lecture-roomto worship every word of mine as an oracle, lounging in the afternoonround Pelagia's litter; and then at night--for I know that they doit--the dice, and the wine, and worse. That Pallas herself should beconquered every day by Venus Pandemos! That Pelagia should have morepower than I! Not that such a creature as that disturbs me: no createdthing, I hope, can move my equanimity; but if I could stoop to hate--Ishould hate her--hate her.'

  And her voice took a tone which made it somewhat uncertain whether, inspite of all the lofty impassibility which she felt bound to possess,she did not hate Pelagia with a most human and mundane hatred.

  But at that moment the conversation was cut short by the hasty entranceof a slave girl, who, with fluttering voice, announced--

  'His excellency, madam, the prefect! His chariot has been at the gatefor these five minutes, and he is now coming upstairs.'

  'Foolish child!' answered Hypatia, with some affectation ofindifference. 'And why should that disturb me? Let him enter.'

  The door opened, and in came, preceded by the scent of half a dozendifferent perfumes, a florid, delicate-featured man, gorgeously dressedout in senatorial costume, his fingers and neck covered with jewels.

  'The representative of the Caesars honours himself by offering at theshrine of Athene Polias, and rejoices to see in her priestess as lovelya likeness as ever of the goddess whom she serves.... Don't betray me,but I really cannot help talking sheer paganism whenever I find myselfwithin the influence of your eyes.'

  'Truth is mighty,' said Hypatia, as she rose to greet him with a smileand a reverence.

  'Ah, so they say--Your excellent father has vanished. He is really toomodest--honest, though--about his incapacity for state secrets. Afterall, you know, it was your Minervaship which I came to consult. Howhas this turbulent Alexandrian rascaldom been behaving itself in myabsence?'

  'The herd has been eating, and drinking, and marrying, as usual, Ibelieve,' answered Hypatia, in a languid tone.

  'And multiplying, I don't doubt. Well, there will be less loss to theempire if I have to crucify a dozen or two, as I positively will, thenext riot. It is really a great comfort to a statesman that the massesare so well aware that they deserve hanging, and therefore so careful toprevent any danger of public justice depopulating the province. But howgo on the schools?'

  Hypatia shook her head sadly.

  'Ah, boys will be boys.... I plead guilty myself. Video melioraproboque, deteriora sequor. You must not be hard on us.... Whether weobey you or not in private life, we do in public; and if we enthrone youqueen of Alexandria, you must allow your courtiers and bodyguards afew court licences. Now don't sigh or I shall be inconsolable. At allevents, your worst rival has betaken herself to the wilderness, and goneto look for the city of the gods above the cataracts.'

  'Whom do you mean?' asked Hypatia, in a tone most unphilosophicallyeager.

  'Pelagia, of course. I met that prettiest and naughtiest of humanitieshalf-way between here and Thebes, transformed into a perfect Andromacheof chaste affection.'

  'And to whom, pray?'

  'To a certain Gothic giant. What men those barbarians do breed! I wasafraid of being crushed under the elephant's foot at every step I tookwith him!'

  'What!' asked Hypatia, 'did your excellency condescend to converse withsuch savages?'

  'To tell you the truth, he had some forty stout countrymen of his withhim, who might have been troublesome to a perplexed prefect; not tomention that it is always as well to keep on good terms with theseGoths. Really, after the sack of Rome, and Athens cleaned out like abeehive by wasps, things begin to look serious. And as for the greatbrute himself, he has rank enough in his way,--boasts of his descentfrom some cannibal god or other,--really hardly deigned to speak to apaltry Roman governor, till his faithful and adoring bride intercededfor me. Still, the fellow understood good living, and we celebrated ournew treaty of friendship with noble libations--but I must not talk aboutthat to you. However, I got rid of them; quoted all the geographicallies I had ever heard, and a great many more; quickened their appetitefor their fool's errand notably, and started them off again. So now thestar of Venus is set, and that of Pallas in the ascendant. Whereforetell me--what am I to do with Saint Firebrand?'

  'Cyril?'

  'Cyril.'

  'Justice.'

  'Ah, Fairest Wisdom, don't mention that horrid word out of thelecture-room. In theory it is all very well; but in poor imperfectearthly practice, a governor must be content with doing very much whatcomes to hand. In abstract justice, now, I ought to nail up Cyril,deacons, district visitors, and all, in a row, on the sandfill outside. That is simple enough; but, like a great many simple and excellentthings, impossible.'

  'You fear the people?'

  'Well, my dear lady, and has not the villainous demagogue got the wholemob on his side? Am I to have the Constantinople riots re-enacted here?I really cannot face it; I have not nerve for it; perhaps I am too lazy.Be it so.'

  Hypatia sighed. 'Ah, that your excellency but saw the great duel whichdepends on you alone! Do not fancy that the battle is merely betweenPaganism and Christianity--'

  'Why, if it were, you know, I, as a Christian, under a Christian andsainted emperor, not to mention his august sister--'

  'We understand,' interrupted she, with an impatient wave of herbeautiful hand. 'Not even between them; not even between philosophy andbarbarism. The struggle is simply one between the aristocracy and themob,--between wealth, refinement, art, learning, all that makes a nationgreat, and the savage herd of child-breeders below, the many ignoble,who were meant to labour for the noble few. Shall the Roman empirecommand or obey her own slaves? is the question which you and Cyril haveto battle out; and the fight must be internecine.'

  'I should not wonder if it became so, really,' answered the prefect,with a shrug of his shoulders. 'I expect every time I ride, to have mybrains knocked out by some mad monk.'

  'Why not? In an age when, as has been well and often said, emperors andconsulars crawl to the tombs of a tent-maker and a fisherman, and kissthe mouldy bones of the vilest slaves? Why not, among a people whoseGod is the crucified son of a carpenter? Why should learning, authority,antiquity, birth, rank, the system of empire which has been growing up,fed by the accumulated wisdom of ages,--why, I say, should any ofthese things protect your life a moment from the fury of any beggar whobelieves that the Son of God died for him as much as for you, and thathe is your equal if not your superior in the sight of his low-born andilliterate deity!' [Footnote: These are the arguments and the languagewhich were commonly employed by Porphyry, Julian, and the otheropponents of Christianity.]

  'My most eloquent philosopher, this may be--and perhaps is--all verytrue. I quite agree that there are very great practical inconveniencesof this kind in the new--I mean the Catholic faith; but the world isfull of inconveniences. The wise man does not quarrel with his creed forbeing disagreeable, any more than he does with his finger for aching: hecannot help it, and must make the best of a bad matter. Only tell me howto keep the peace.'

  'And let philosophy be destroyed?'

  'That it never will be, as long as Hypatia lives to illuminate theearth; and, as far as I am concerned, I promise you a clear stage and--agreat deal of favour; as is proved by my visiting you publicly at thismoment, before I have given audience to one of the four hundred bores,great and small, who are waiting in the tribunal to torment me. Do helpme and advise me. What am I to do?'

  'I have told you.'

  'Ah, yes, as to general principles. But out of the lecture-room I prefera practical expedient for instance, Cyril writes to me here--plague onhim! he would not let me even have a week's hunting in peace-that thereis a plot on the part of the Jews to murder all the Christians. Here isthe precious document--do look at it, in pity. For aught I know or care,the plot may be an exactly
opposite one, and the Christians intend tomurder all the Jews. But I must take some notice of the letter.'

  'I do not see that, your excellency.'

  'Why, if anything did happen, after all, conceive the missives whichwould be sent flying off to Constantinople against me!'

  'Let them go. If you are secure in the consciousness of innocence, whatmatter?'

  'Consciousness of innocence? I shall lose my prefecture!'

  'Your danger would just be as great if you took notice of it. Whateverhappened, you would be accused of favouring the Jews.'

  'And really there might be some truth in the accusation. How thefinances of the provinces would go on without their kind assistance,I dare not think. If those Christians would but lend me their money,instead of building alms-houses and hospitals with it, they might burnthe Jews' quarter to-morrow, for aught I care. But now....'

  'But now, you must absolutely take no notice of this letter. The verytone of it forbids you, for your own honour, and the honour ofthe empire. Are you to treat with a man who talks of the masses atAlexandria as "the flock whom the King of kings has committed to hisrule and care"? Does your excellency, or this proud bishop, governAlexandria?'

  'Really, my dear lady, I have given up inquiring.'

  'But he has not. He comes to you as a person possessing an absoluteauthority over two-thirds of the population, which he does not scrupleto hint to you is derived from a higher source than your own. Theconsequence is clear. If it be from a higher source than yours, ofcourse it ought to control yours'; and you will confess that it oughtto control it--you will acknowledge the root and ground of everyextravagant claim which he makes, if you deign to reply.'

  'But I must say something, or I shall be pelted in the streets. Youphilosophers, however raised above your own bodies you may be, mustreally not forget that we poor worldlings have bones to be broken.'

  'Then tell him, and by word of mouth merely, that as the informationwhich he sends you comes from his private knowledge and concerns nothim as bishop, but you as magistrate, you can only take it intoconsideration when he addresses you as a private person, laying aregular information at your tribunal.'

  'Charming! queen of diplomatists as well as philosophers! I go to obeyyou. Ah! why were you not Pulcheria? No, for then Alexandria had beendark, and Orestes missed the supreme happiness of kissing a hand whichPallas, when she made you, must have borrowed from the workshop ofAphrodite.'

  'Recollect that you are a Christian,' answered Hypatia, half smiling.

  So the prefect departed; and passing through the outer hall, which wasalready crowded with Hypatia's aristocratic pupils and visitors, bowedhis way out past them and regained his chariot, chuckling over therebuff which he intended to administer to Cyril, and comforting himselfwith the only text of Scripture of the inspiration of which he wasthoroughly convinced--'Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.'

  At the door was a crowd of chariots, slaves with their masters'parasols, and the rabble of onlooking boys and market-folk, as usual inAlexandria then, as in all great cities since, who were staring at theprefect, and having their heads rapped by his guards, and wondering whatsort of glorious personage Hypatia might be, and what sort of glorioushouse she must live in, to be fit company for the great governor ofAlexandria. Not that there was not many a sulky and lowering faceamong the mob, for the great majority of them were Christians, andvery seditious and turbulent politicians, as Alexandrians, 'men ofMacedonia,' were bound to be; and there was many a grumble among them,all but audible, at the prefect's going in state to the heathen woman'shouse--heathen sorceress, some pious old woman called her--before heheard any poor soul's petition in the tribunal, or even said his prayersin church.

  Just as he was stepping into his curricle a tall young man, asgorgeously bedizened as himself, lounged down the steps after him, andbeckoned lazily to the black boy who carried his parasol.

  'Ah, Raphael Aben-Ezra! my excellent friend, what propitiousdeity--ahem! martyr--brings you to Alexandria just as I want you? Get upby my side, and let us have a chat on our way to the tribunal.'

  The man addressed came slowly forward with an ostentatiously lowsalutation, which could not hide, and indeed was not intended tohide, the contemptuous and lazy expression of his face; and asked in adrawling tone--

  'And for what kind purpose does the representative of the Caesars bestowsuch an honour on the humblest of his, etc. etc.--your penetration willsupply the rest.'

  'Don't be frightened; I am not going to borrow money of you,' answeredOrestes, laughingly, as the Jew got into the curricle.

  'I am glad to hear it. Really one usurer in a family is enough. Myfather made the gold, and if I spend it, I consider that I do all thatis required of a philosopher.'

  'A charming team of white Nisaeans, is not this? And only one gray footamong all the four.'

  'Yes.... horses are a bore, I begin to find, like everything else.Always falling sick, or running away, or breaking one's peace of mind insome way or other. Besides, I have been pestered out of my life therein Cyrene, by commissions for dogs and horses and bows from that oldEpiscopal Nimrod, Synesius.'

  'What, is the worthy man as lively as ever?'

  'Lively? He nearly drove me into a nervous fever in three days. Up atfour in the morning, always in the most disgustingly good health andspirits, farming, coursing, shooting, riding over hedge and ditchafter rascally black robbers; preaching, intriguing, borrowing money;baptizing and excommunicating; bullying that bully, Andronicus;comforting old women, and giving pretty girls dowries; scribbling onehalf-hour on philosophy, and the next on farriery; sitting up all nightwriting hymns and drinking strong liquors; off again on horseback atfour the next morning; and talking by the hour all the while aboutphilosophic abstraction from the mundane tempest. Heaven defend mefrom all two-legged whirlwinds! By the bye, there was a fair daughter ofmy nation came back to Alexandria in the same ship with me, with a cargothat may suit your highness.'

  'There are a great many fair daughters of your nation who might suit me,without any cargo at all.'

  'Ah, they have had good practice, the little fools, ever since the daysof Jeroboam the son of Nebat. But I mean old Miriam--you know. She hasbeen lending Synesius money to fight the black fellows with; and reallyit was high time. They had burnt every homestead for miles through theprovince. But the daring old girl must do a little business for herself;so she went off, in the teeth of the barbarians, right away to theAtlas, bought all their lady prisoners, and some of their own sons anddaughters, too, of them, for beads and old iron; and has come back withas pretty a cargo of Lybian beauties as a prefect of good taste couldwish to have the first choice of. You may thank me for that privilege.'

  'After, of course, you had suited yourself, my cunning Raphael?'

  'Not I. Women are bores, as Solomon found out long ago. Did I never tellyou? I began, as he did, with the most select harem in Alexandria. Butthey quarrelled so, that one day I went out, and sold them all but one,who was a Jewess--so there were objections on the part of the Rabbis.Then I tried one, as Solomon did; but my "garden shut up," and my"sealed fountain" wanted me to be always in love with her, so I went tothe lawyers, allowed her a comfortable maintenance, and now I am as freeas a monk, and shall be happy to give your excellency the benefit of anygood taste or experience which I may possess.'

  'Thanks, worthy Jew. We are not yet as exalted as yourself, and willsend for the old Erictho this very afternoon. Now listen a moment tobase, earthly, and political business. Cyril has written to me, to saythat you Jews have plotted to murder all the Christians.'

  'Well--why not? I most heartily wish it were true, and think, on thewhole, that it very probably is so.'

  'By the immortal--saints, man! you are not serious?'

  'The four archangels forbid! It is no concern of mine. All I say is,that my people are great fools, like the rest of the world; and have,for aught I know or care, some such intention. They won't succeed, ofcourse; and that is all you have to
care for. But if you think it worththe trouble--which I do not--I shall have to go to the synagogue onbusiness in a week or so, and then I would ask some of the Rabbis.'

  'Laziest of men!--and I must answer Cyril this very day.'

  'An additional reason for asking no questions of our people. Now you canhonestly say that you know nothing about the matter.'

  'Well, after all, ignorance is a stronghold for poor statesmen. So youneed not hurry yourself.'

  'I assure your excellency I will not.'

  'Ten days hence, or so, you know.'

  'Exactly, after it is all over.'

  'And can't be helped. What a comfort it is, now and then, that Can't behelped!'

  'It is the root and marrow of all philosophy. Your practical man, poorwretch, will try to help this and that, and torment his soul with waysand means, and preventives and forestallings; your philosopher quietlysays--It can't be helped. If it ought to be, it will be--if it is, itought to be. We did not make the world, and we are not responsible forit.--There is the sum and substance of all true wisdom, and the epitomeof all that has been said and written thereon from Philo the Jew toHypatia the Gentile. By the way, here's Cyril coming down the steps ofthe Caesareum. A very handsome fellow, after all, though lie is lookingas sulky as a bear.'

  'With his cubs at his heels. What a scoundrelly visage that tallfellow-deacon, or reader, or whatever he is by his dress--has!'

  'There they are--whispering together. Heaven give them pleasant thoughtsand pleasanter faces!'

  'Amen!' quoth Orestes, with a sneer: and he would have said Amen ingood earnest, had he been able to take the liberty--which we shall--andlisten to Cyril's answer to Peter, the tall reader.

  'From Hypatia's, you say? Why, he only returned to the city thismorning.'

  'I saw his four-in-hand standing at her door, as I came down the MuseumStreet hither, half an hour ago.'

  'And twenty carriages besides, I don't doubt?'

  'The street was blocked up with them. There! Look round the cornernow.--Chariots, litters, slaves, and fops.--When shall we see such aconcourse as that where it ought to be?'

  Cyril made no answer; and Peter went on--'Where it ought to be, myfather--in front of your door at the Serapeium?'

  'The world, the flesh, and the devil know their own, Peter: and as longas they have their own to go to, we cannot expect them to come to us.'

  'But what if their own were taken out of the way?'

  'They might come to us for want of better amusement.... devil and all.Well--if I could get a fair hold of the two first, I would take thethird into the bargain, and see what could be done with him. Butnever, while these lecture-rooms last--these Egyptian chambers ofimagery--these theatres of Satan, where the devil transforms himselfinto an angel of light, and apes Christian virtue, and bedizens hisministers like ministers of righteousness, as long as that lecture-roomstands and the great and the powerful flock to it, to learn excuses fortheir own tyrannies and atheisms, so long will the kingdom of God betrampled under foot in Alexandria; so long will the princes of thisworld, with their gladiators, and parasites, and money-lenders, bemasters here, and not the bishops and priests of the living God.'

  It was now Peter's turn to be silent; and as the two, with their littleknot of district-visitors behind them, walk moodily along the greatesplanade which overlooked the harbour, and then vanish suddenly up somedingy alley into the crowded misery of the sailors' quarter, we willleave them to go about their errand of mercy, and, like fashionablepeople, keep to the grand parade, and listen again to our twofashionable friends in the carved and gilded curricle with four whiteblood-horses.

  'A fine sparkling breeze outside the Pharos, Raphael--fair for thewheat-ships too.'

  'Are they gone yet?

  'Yes--why? I sent the first fleet off three days ago; and the rest areclearing outwards to-day.'

  'Oh!--ah--so!--Then you have not heard from Heraclian?'

  'Heraclian? What the-blessed saints has the Count of Africa to do withmy wheat-ships?'

  'Oh, nothing. It's no business of mine. Only he is going to rebel ....But here we are at your door.'

  'To what?' asked Orestes, in a horrified tone.

  'To rebel, and attack Rome.'

  'Good gods--God, I mean. A fresh bore! Come in, and tell a poormiserable slave of a governor--speak low, for Heaven's sake!--I hopethese rascally grooms haven't overheard you.'

  'Easy to throw them into the canal, if they have,' quoth Raphael, as hewalked coolly through hall and corridor after the perturbed governor.

  Poor Orestes never stopped till he reached a little chamber of the innercourt, beckoned the Jew in after him, locked the door, threw himselfinto an arm-chair, put his hands on his knees, and sat, bending forward,staring into Raphael's face with a ludicrous terror and perplexity.

  'Tell me all about it. Tell me this instant.'

  'I have told you all I know,' quoth Raphael, quietly seating himself ona sofa, and playing with a jewelled dagger. 'I thought, of course, thatyou were in the secret, or I should have said nothing. It's no businessof mine, you know.'

  Orestes, like most weak and luxurious men, Romans especially, had awild-beast vein in him--and it burst forth.

  'Hell and the furies! You insolent provincial slave--you will carrythese liberties of yours too far! Do you know who I am, you accursedJew? Tell me the whole truth, or, by the head of the emperor, I'll twistit out of you with red-hot pincers!'

  Raphael's countenance assumed a dogged expression, which showed thatthe old Jewish blood still heat true, under all its affected shell ofNeo-Platonist nonchalance; and there was a quiet unpleasant earnest inhis smile, as he answered--

  'Then, my dear governor, you will be the first man on earth who ever yetforced a Jew to say or do what he did not choose.'

  'We'll see!' yelled Orestes. 'Here, slaves!' And he clapped his handsloudly.

  'Calm yourself, your excellency,' quoth Raphael, rising. 'The dooris locked; the mosquito net is across the window; and this daggeris poisoned. If anything happens to me, you will offend all the Jewmoney-lenders, and die in about three days in a great deal of pain,having missed our assignation with old Miriam, lost your pleasantestcompanion, and left your own finances and those of the prefecture in aconsiderable state of embarrassment. How much better to sit down, hearall I have to say philosophically, like a true pupil of Hypatia, and notexpect a man to tell you what he really does not know.'

  Orestes, after looking vainly round the room for a place to escape, hadquietly subsided into his chair again; and by the time that the slavesknocked at the door he had so far recovered his philosophy as to ask,not for the torturers, but for a page and wine.

  'Oh, you Jews!' quoth he, trying to laugh off matters. 'The sameincarnate fiends that Titus found you!'

  'The very same, my dear prefect. Now for this matter, which is reallyimportant-at least to Gentiles. Heraclian will certainly rebel. Synesiuslet out as much to me. He has fitted out an armament for Ostia, stoppedhis own wheat-ships, and is going to write to you to stop yours, and tostarve out the Eternal City, Goths, senate, emperor, and all. Whetheryou will comply with his reasonable little request depends of course onyourself.'

  'And that again very much on his plans.'

  'Of course. You cannot be expected to--we will euphemise-unless it bemade worth your while.'

  Orestes sat buried in deep thought.

  'Of course not,' said he at last, half unconsciously. And then, insudden dread of having committed himself, he looked up fiercely at theJew.

  'And how do I know that this is not some infernal trap of yours? Tell mehow you found out all this, or by Hercules (he had quite forgotten hisChristianity by this time)--by Hercules and the Twelve Gods, I'll--'

  'Don't use expressions unworthy of a philosopher. My source ofinformation was very simple and very good. He has been negotiating aloan from the Rabbis at Carthage. They were either frightened, or loyal,or both, and hung back. He knew--as all wise governors know when theyall
ow themselves time--that it is no use to bully a Jew; slid applied tome. I never lend money--it is unphilosophical: but I introduced him toold Miriam, who dare do business with the devil himself; and by thatmove, whether he has the money or not, I cannot tell: but this I cantell, that we have his secret--and so have you now; and if you want moreinformation, the old woman, who enjoys an intrigue as much as she doesFalernian, will get it you.'

  'Well, you are a true friend, after all.'

  'Of course I am. Now, is not this method of getting at the truth mucheasier and pleasanter than setting a couple of dirty negroes to pinchand pull me, and so making it a point of honour with me to tell younothing but lies? Here comes Ganymede with the wine, just in time tocalm your nerves, and fill you with the spirit of divination.... To thegoddess of good counsels, my lord. What wine this is!'

  'True Syrian--fire and honey; fourteen years old next vintage, myRaphael. Out, Hypocorisma! See that he is not listening. The impudentrascal! I was humbugged into giving two thousand gold pieces for himtwo years ago, he was so pretty--they said he was only just risingthirteen--and he has been the plague of my life ever since, and isbeginning to want the barber already. Now, what is the count dreamingof?'

  'His wages for killing Stilicho.'

  'What, is it not enough to be Count of Africa?'

  'I suppose he sets off against that his services during the last threeyears.'

  'Well, he saved Africa.'

  'And thereby Egypt also. And you too, as well as the emperor, may beconsidered as owing him somewhat.'

  'My good friend, my debts are far too numerous for me to think of payingany of them. But what wages does he want?'

  'The purple.'

  Orestes started, and then fell into thought. Raphael sat watching him awhile.

  'Now, most noble lord, may I depart? I have said all I have to say; andunless I get home to luncheon at once, I shall hardly have time to findold Miriam for you, and get through our little affair with her beforesunset.'

  'Stay. What force has he?'

  'Forty thousand already, they say. And those Donatist ruffians are withhim to a man, if he can but scrape together wherewith to change theirbludgeons into good steel.'

  'Well, go.... So. A hundred thousand might do it,' said he, meditating,as Raphael bowed himself out. 'He won't get them. I don't know,though; the man has the head of a Julius. Well--that fool Attalus talkedof joining Egypt to the Western Empire.... Not such a bad thought either.Anything is better than being governed by an idiot child and threecanting nuns. I expect to be excommunicated every day for some offenceagainst Pulcheria's prudery.... Heraclian emperor at Rome.... and Ilord and master on this side the sea. The Donatists pitted again fairlyagainst the orthodox, to cut each other's throats in peace.... no moreof Cyril's spying and tale-bearing to Constantinople.... Not such abaddish of fare.... But then-it would take so much trouble!'

  With which words, Orestes went into his third warm bath for that day.