Unto Caesar
CHAPTER VI
"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first andthe last."--REVELATIONS XXII. 13.
And after that silence and peace.
Silence save for the moanings of the child Nola, who in a passionateoutburst of grief had thrown herself on the body of her mother.
Dea Flavia stood there still and calm, her young face scarce less whitethan the clinging folds of her tunic, her unfathomable eyes fixed uponthe pathetic group at her feet: the weeping girl and the dead woman.
She seemed almost dazed--like one who does not understand and a quaintpuzzled frown appeared upon the whiteness of her brow.
Once she raised her eyes to the praefect and encountered hisgaze--strangely contemptuous and wrathful--fixed upon her own, and anonshe shuddered when a pitiable moan from Nola echoed from end to endalong the marble walls around.
And the crowd of idlers began slowly to disperse. In groups of twos andthrees they went, their sandalled feet making a soft rustling noiseagainst the flagstones of the Forum, and their cloaks of thin woollenstuff floating out behind them as they walked.
The young patricians were the first to go. The scene had ceased to beamusing and Dea Flavia was not like to bestow another smile. Theythought it best to retire to their luxurious homes, for they vaguelyresented the majesty of death which clung round the dead freedwoman andthe young living slave. They hoped to forget in the course of thenoonday sleep, and the subsequent delights of the table, the painfulevents which had so unpleasantly stirred their shallow hearts.
Dea Flavia paid no heed to them as they murmured words of leave-takingin her ear. 'Tis doubtful if she saw one of them or cared if they wentor stayed.
At an order from the praefect the auction sale was abruptly suspended.The lictors drove the herds of human cattle together preparatory totaking them to their quarters on the slopes of the Aventine where theywould remain until the morrow; whilst the scribes and auctioneers madehaste to scramble down from the heights of the rostrum, the heat of theday having rendered that elevated position well-nigh unbearable. OnlyDea Flavia's retinue lingered in the Forum. Standing at a respectfuldistance they surrounded the gorgeously draped litter, waiting, silentlyand timorous, the further pleasure of their mistress; and behind DeaFlavia her two Ethiopian slaves, stolidly holding the palm leaves toshield her head against the blazing sun which so mercilessly searedtheir own naked shoulders.
"Grant me leave to escort thee to thy litter, Augusta!" murmured a timidvoice.
It was young Hortensius Martius who spoke. He had approached the catastaand now stood timid, and a suppliant, beside Dea Flavia, with his curlyhead bare to the scorching sun and his back bent in slave-likedeference. But the young girl seemed not to hear him and even after hehad twice repeated his request she turned to him with uncomprehendingeyes.
"I would not leave thee, Dea," he said, "until I saw thee safely amongthy slaves and thy clients."
Then at last did she speak. But her voice sounded toneless and dull, asof one who speaks in a dream.
"I thank thee, good Hortensius," she said, "but my slaves are close athand and I would prefer to be left alone."
To insist further would have been churlish. Hortensius Martius, wellversed in every phase of decorum, bowed his head in obedience andretired to his litter. But he told his slaves not to bear him away fromthe Forum altogether but to place the litter down under the arcades ofthe tabernae, and then to stand round it so that it could not be seen,whilst he himself could still keep watch over the movements of DeaFlavia.
But she in the meanwhile remained in the same inert position, standinglistlessly beside the body of Menecreta, her face expressing puzzlementrather than horror, as if within her soul she was trying to reconcilethe events of the last few moments with her previous conceptions of whatthe tenor of her life should be.
The curse of Menecreta had found sudden and awful fulfilment, and DeaFlavia remained vaguely wondering whether the gods had been asleep onthis hot late summer's day and forgotten to shield their favoureddaughter against the buffetings of fate. A freedwoman had rousedsuperstitious fear in the heart of a daughter of the Caesars! Surelythere must be something very wrong in the administration of the affairsof this world. Nay, more! for the freedwoman, unconscious of her ownimpiety, had triumphed in the end; her death--majestic and sublime inits suddenness--had set the seal upon her malediction.
And Dea Flavia marvelled that the dead woman remained so calm, her eyesso still, when--if indeed Jupiter had been aroused by the monstroussacrilege--she must now be facing the terrors of his judgments.
And Taurus Antinor watched her in silence whilst she stood thus,unconscious of his gaze, a perfect picture of exquisite womanhood set ina frame of marble temples and colonnades, a dome of turquoise above herhead, the palm leaves above her throwing a dense blue shadow on hergolden hair and the white tunic on her shoulders.
He had heard much of Dea Flavia--the daughter of Claudius Octavius andnow the ward of the Emperor Caligula--since his return from Syria a yearago, and he had oft seen her gilded and rose-draped litter gliding alongthe Sacra Via or the Via Appia, surrounded with its numberless retinue:but he had never seen her so close as this, nor had he heard her speak.
She was a mere child and still under the tutelage of her despotic fatherwhen he--Taurus Antinor--tired of the enervating influences of decadentRome, had obtained leave from the Emperor Tiberius to go to Syria as itsgovernor. The imperator was glad enough to let him go. Taurus Antinor,named Anglicanus, was more popular with the army and the plebs than anyautocratic ruler could wish.
He went to Syria and remained there half a dozen years. The jealousy ofone emperor had sent him thither and 'twas the jealousy of another thatcalled him back to Rome. Syria had liked its governor over well, andCaius Julius Caesar Caligula would not brook rivalry in the allegianceowed to himself alone by his subjects--even by those who dwelt in theremotest provinces of the Empire.
But on his return to Rome the powerful personality of Taurus Antinorsoon imposed itself upon the fierce and maniacal despot.Caligula--though he must in reality have hated the Anglicanus as muchand more than he hated all men--gave grudging admiration to hisindependence of spirit and to his fearless tongue. In the midst of anentourage composed of lying sycophants and of treacherous minions, theCaesar seemed to feel in the presence of the stranger a sense of securityand of trust. Some writers have averred that Caligula looked on TaurusAntinor as a kind of personal fetish who kept the wrath of the godsaverted from his imperial head. Be that as it may, there is no doubtthat tyrant exerted his utmost power to keep Taurus near his person,showering upon him those honours and titles of which he would have beenequally ready to deprive him had the stranger at any time run counter tohis will. Anon, when the Caesar thought it incumbent upon his dignity tostart on a military expedition, he forced Antinor to accept thepraefecture of the city in order to keep him permanently settled inRome.
The Anglicanus accepted the power--which was almost supreme in theabsence of the Caesar. He even gave the oath demanded of him by theEmperor that he would remain at his post until the termination of theproposed military expedition, but it was easy to see that the dignitiesfor which others would have fought and striven to their uttermost werenot really to the liking of Taurus Antinor.
Avowedly wilful of temper, he had since his return from Syria becomeeven more silent, more self-centred than before. Many called him moroseand voted him either treacherous or secretly ambitious; others averredthat he was either very arrogant or frankly dull. Certain it is that heheld himself very much aloof from the society of his kind andpersistently refused to mix with the young elegants of the day either intheir circles or their baths, their private parties or publicentertainments.
Thus it was that the praefect found himself to-day for the first timein the near presence of Dea Flavia, the acknowledged queen of that samesociety which he declined to frequent, and as he grudgingly admitted tohimself that she was beautiful beyond what men had said of her,
heremembered all the tales which he had heard of her callous pride, hercold dignity, and of that cruel disdain with which she rejected allhomage and broke the hearts of those whom her beauty had brought to herfeet.
For the moment, however, she struck him as more pathetic than fearsome;she looked lonely just now like a stately lily blooming alone in adeserted garden. He was wroth with her for what she had done toMenecreta and for her childish caprice and opposition to his will, butat the same time he who so seldom felt pity for those whom a justpunishment had overtaken, was sorry for this young girl, for in her caseretribution had been severe and out of all proportion to her fault.
Therefore he approached her almost with deference and forced his roughvoice to gentleness, as he said to her:
"The hour is late, O Dea Flavia. I myself must leave the Forum now. Iwould wish to see thee safe amongst thy women."
She turned her blue eyes upon him. His voice had roused her from hermeditations and recalled her to that sense of proud dignity with whichshe loved to surround herself as with invisible walls. She must haveseen the pity in his eyes for he did not try to hide it, but it seemedto anger her as coming from this man who--to her mind--was the primarycause of her present trouble. She looked for a moment or two on him asif trying to recollect his very existence, and no importunate slavecould ever encounter such complete disdain as fell on the praefect atthis moment from Dea Flavia's glance.
"I will return to my palace at the hour which pleaseth me most, Opraefectus," she said coldly, "and when the child Nola, being morecomposed, is ready to accompany me."
"Nay!" he rejoined in his accustomed rough way, "the slave Nola isnaught to thee now. She will be looked after as the State directs."
"The slave is mine," she retorted curtly. "She shall come with me."
And even as she spoke she drew herself up to her full height, more like,he thought, than ever to a stately lily now. The crown of gold upon herhead caught a glint from the noonday sun, and the folds of her whitetunic fell straight and rigid from her shoulders down to her feet.
It seemed strange to him that one so young, so exquisitely pure, shouldthus be left all alone to face the hard moments of life; her verydisdain for him, her wilfulness, seemed to him pathetic, for they showedher simple ignorance of the many cruelties which life must of necessityhave in store for her.
As for yielding to her present mood, he had no thought of it. It wascaprice originally which had caused her to defy his will and to breakold Menecreta's heart. She had invoked strict adherence to the law forthe sole purpose of indulging this caprice. Now he was tempted also tostand upon the law and to defy her tyrannical will, even at the cost ofhis own inclinations in the matter.
He would not trust her with the child Nola now. He had other plans forthe orphan girl, rendered lonely and desolate through a great lady'swhim, and he would have felt degradation in the thought that Dea Flaviashould impose her will on him in this.
He knew her power of course. She was a near kinswoman of the Emperor,and the child of his adoption; she was all-powerful with the Caesar aswith all men through the might of his personality as much as throughthat of her wealth.
But he had no thought of yielding nor any thought of fear. It seemed asif in the heat-laden atmosphere two mighty wills had suddenly clashedone against the other, brandishing ghostly steels. His will againsthers! The might of manhood and of strength against the word of abeautiful woman. Nor was the contest unequal. If he could crush her witha touch of his hand, she could destroy him with one word in the Caesar'sear. She had as her ally the full unbridled might of the House of Caesar,while against her there was only this stranger, a descendant of afreedwoman from a strange land. For the nonce his influence was greatover the mind of the quasi-madman who sat on the Empire's throne, butany moment, any event, the whisper of an enemy, the word of a woman,might put an end to his power.
All this Dea Flavia knew, and knowing it found pleasure in toying withhis wrath. Armed with the triple weapon of her beauty, her purity andher power, she taunted him with his impotence and smiled with scornfulpity upon the weakness of his manhood.
Even now she turned to Nola and said with gentle firmness:
"Get up, girl, and come with me."
But at her words the last vestige of deference fled from the praefect'smanner; pity now would have been weak folly. Had he yielded he wouldhave despised himself even as this proud girl now affected to scorn him.
He interposed his massive figure between Dea Flavia and the slave andsaid loudly:
"By thy leave, Nola, the daughter of Menecreta, is the property of theState and 'tis I will decide whither she goeth now."
"Until to-morrow only, Taurus Antinor," she rejoined coldly, "forto-morrow she must be in the slave market again, when my agents will bidfor and buy her according to my will."
"Nay! she shall not be put up for sale to-morrow."
"By whose authority, O praefectus?"
"By mine. The State hath given me leave to purchase privately a numberof slaves from the late censor's household. 'Tis my intention topurchase Nola thus."
"Thou hast no right," she said, still speaking with outward calm, thoughher whole soul rebelled against the arrogance of this man who dared tothwart her will, to gainsay her word, and set up his dictates againsthers, "thou hast no right thus to take the law in thine own hands."
"Nay! as to that," he replied with equal calm, "I'll answer for mine ownactions. But the slave Nola shall not pass into thy hands, Augusta! Thouhast wrought quite enough mischief as it is; be content and go thy way.Leave the child in peace."
In these days of unbridled passions and unfettered tyranny, a man whospoke thus to a daughter of the Caesars spoke at peril of his life. BothDea Flavia and Taurus Antinor knew this when they faced one another eyeto eye, their very souls in rebellion one against the other--his ownturbulent and fierce, with the hot blood from a remote land coursing inhis veins, blinding him to his own advantage, to his own future, toeverything save to his feeling of independence at all cost from theoppression of this family of tyrants; her own almost serene in itsconsciousness of limitless power.
For the moment her sense of dignity prevailed. Whatever she might do inthe future, she was comparatively helpless now. The praefect in thedischarge of his functions--second only to the Caesar--was all-powerfulwhere he stood.
Taurus Antinor was still the praefect of Rome, still a member of theSenate and favourite of Caligula. He had her at a disadvantage now, justas she had held him a while ago when she forced on the public sale ofthe girl Nola. Therefore, though with a look she would have crushed theinsolent, and her delicate hands were clenched into fists that wouldhave chastised him then and there if they had the strength, she returnedhis look of fierce defiance with her usual one of calm.
"Thou hast spoken, Taurus Antinor," she said coldly, "and in deferenceto the law which thou dost represent I bow to thy commands. Art thoucontent?" she added, seeing that he made no reply.
"Content?" he asked, puzzled at her meaning.
"Aye!" she said; "I asked thee if thou wert content. Thou hasthumiliated a daughter of Caesar, a humiliation which she is not like toforget."
"I crave thy pardon if I have transgressed beyond the limits of myduty."
"Thy duty? Nay, Taurus Antinor, a man's duties are as varied as awoman's moods, and he is wisest who knows how to adapt the one to theother. 'Tis not good, remember, to run counter to Dea Flavia's will.'Tis much that thou must have forgotten, O praefect, ere thou didst setthy so-called duty above the fulfilment of my wish."
"Nay, gracious lady," he said simply, "I had forgotten nothing. Not eventhat Archelaus Menas, the sculptor, died for having angered thee; northat Julius Campanius perished in exile and young Decretas in fetters,because of thine enmity. Thou seest that--though somewhat of a strangerin Rome--I know much of its secret history, and though mine eyes haduntil now never beheld thy loveliness, yet had mine ears heard much ofthy power."
"Yet at its first encounter thou didst
defy it."
"I have no mother to mourn o'er my death like young Decretas," he saidcurtly, "nor yet a wife to make into a sorrowing widow like the sculptorMenas."
If it was his desire to break through the barrier of well-nigh insolentcalm which she seemed to have set round her dainty person, then hesucceeded over well, for she winced at his words like one who hasreceived a blow and her eyes, dark with anger, narrowed until theybecame mere slits fringed by her golden lashes.
"But thou hast a life, Taurus Antinor," she said, "and life is aprecious possession."
He shrugged his massive shoulders, and a curious smile played round hislips.
"And thou canst order that precious possession to be taken from me," hesaid lightly. "Is that what thou wouldst say?"
"That and more, for thou hast other precious treasures more precious,mayhap, than life; so guard them well, O Taurus Antinor!"
"Nay, gracious lady," he rejoined, still smiling, "I have but one soulas I have one life, and that too is in the hands of God."
"Of which god?" she asked quaintly.
He did not reply but pointed upwards at the vivid dome of blue againstwhich the white of Phrygian marbles glittered in the sun.
"Of Him Whose Empire is mightier than that of Rome."
She looked on him in astonishment. Apparently she did not understandhim, nor did he try to explain, but it seemed to her as if his wholeappearance had changed suddenly, and her thoughts flew back to thatwhich she had witnessed a year ago when she was in Ostia and she hadseen a raging tempest become suddenly stilled. "There is no mightierempire than that of Rome," she said proudly, "and methinks thou art atraitor, oh Taurus Antinor, else thou wouldst not speak of any emperorsave of Caesar, my kinsman."
"I spoke not of an emperor, gracious lady," he said simply.
"But thy thoughts were of one whose empire was mightier than that ofRome."
"My thoughts," he said, "were of a Man Whom I saw whilst travellingthrough Judaea a few years ago. He was poor and dwelt among the fishermenof Galilee. They stood around Him and listened whilst He talked; when Hewalked they followed Him, for a halo of glory was upon Him and the wordswhich He spoke were such that once heard they could never be forgotten."
"Didst thou too hear those marvellous words, O Taurus Antinor?" sheasked.
"Only twice," he replied, "did I hear the words which He spoke. Imingled with the crowd, and once when His eyes fell upon me, it seemedto me as if all the secrets of life and death were suddenly revealed tome. His eyes fell upon me.... I was one of a multitude ... but from thatmoment I knew that life on this earth would never be precious to meagain--since the most precious gift man hath is his immortality."
"Thou speakest of strange matters, O praefect," she rejoined, "andmeseems there's treason in what thou sayest. Who is this man, whosevery look hath made a slave of thee?"
"A slave to His will thou sayest truly, O daughter of Caesar! Could Ihear His command I would follow Him through life and to death. At timeseven now meseems that I can hear His voice and see His eyes ... thouhast never seen such eyes, Augusta--fixed upon my very soul. I saw themjust now, right across the Forum, when the wretched freedwoman clungshrieking round my shins. They looked at me and _asked_ me to bemerciful; they did not command, they begged ... _asking_ for the pitythat lay dormant in my soul. And now I know that if those same eyeslooked at me again and asked for every drop of my blood, if they askedme to bear death, torture, or even shame, I would become as thou trulysayest--a slave."
Once or twice whilst he spoke she had tried to interrupt him, but everytime the words she would have spoken had died upon her lips. He lookedso strange--this praefect of Rome--whose judgments everyone feared,whose strict adherence to duty the young elegants of the day were everfond of deriding. He looked very strange now and spoke such strangewords--words that she resented bitterly, for they sounded like treasonto the House of Caesar of which she was so coldly proud.
To her Caesar was as a god, and she as his kinswoman had been brought upto worship in him not the man--that might be vile--but the supreme powerin the Empire which he represented. She did not pause to think if hewere base, tyrannical, a half-crazy despot without mind or heart orsensibilities. She knew what was said about him, she had even seen attimes things from which she recoiled in unspeakable horror; but hersoul, still pure and still proud, was able to dissociate the abstractidea of the holy and mighty Caesar from its present hideous embodiment.And this same holy reverence for Caesar she looked for in all those whoshe deemed were worthy to stand--not as his equals, for only the godswere that--but nigh to his holy person--his own kinsmen first, then hisSenate, his magistrates, and his patricians, and above all thisman--almost a stranger--whom the Caesar had deigned to honour with hisconfidence.
And yet this same stranger spoke calmly of another, of a man whom hewould obey as a slave in all things, whom he would follow even to death;a man whose might he proclaimed above that of Caesar himself.
"But who is this man?" she exclaimed at last, almost involuntarily.
"A poor Man from Galilee," he replied.
"What is he called?"
"Out there they called Him Jesus of Nazareth."
"And where is he now?"
"He died upon the cross, in Jerusalem, seven years ago."
"Upon the cross?" she exclaimed; "what had he done?"
"He had dwelt among the poor and brought them contentment and peace; Hehad lived amongst men and taught them love and charity. So the Romanproconsul ordered Him to be crucified, and those whom He had renderedhappy rejoiced over His death."
"Methinks that I did hear something of this. I was a child then butalready I took much interest in the affairs of State, and my fatherspoke oft freely in my presence. I remember his talking of a demagogueover in Judaea who claimed to be the King of the Jews and who waspunished for treason and sedition. But I also heard that he did butlittle mischief, since only a troop of ignorant fisher-folk followed andlistened to him."
"Ignorant fisher-folk thou saidst it truly, O Dea Flavia, yet I have itin my mind that anon the knee of every patrician--aye! of everyCaesar--shall bend before the mighty throne of that Man from Galilee."
"And thus didst learn thy lesson of treason, O praefect," she retorted;"demagogues and traitors from Judaea have sown the seeds of treachery inthy mind, and whilst thou dost receive with both hands the gifts of theCaesar my kinsman, thou dost set up another above him and dost homage tohim in thy heart."
"Aye! in my heart, gracious lady; for I am even more ignorant than thosefishermen from Galilee who heard every word spoken by Jesus of Nazareth.I heard Him but twice in my life and once only did His eyes rest uponme, and they enchained my heart to His service, though I know but littleyet of what He would have me do."
"No doubt he would have thee turn traitor to thine Emperor and toacclaim him--the demagogue--as imperator before the Senate and the army.He----"
"I told thee that He was dead," he interposed simply.
"And that his words had made thee rebellious to Caesar and insolent tome."
"Thine humble servant, O Augusta," he rejoined, smiling in spite ofhimself, for now she was just like an angry child. "Wilt but command andsee how I will obey."
"The girl Nola!" she said haughtily.
"In that alone I must deny thee."
"Then tie my shoe, it hath come undone."
The tone with which she said this was so arrogant and so harsh that evenher slaves behind her turned frightened eyes on the praefect who wasknown to be so proud, and on whom the curt command must have had theeffect of a sudden whip-lash on the face.
She had spoken as if to the humblest of her menials, finding pleasure inputting this insult on the man who had dared to thwart and irritate her;but she had not spoken deliberately; it had been an impulse, anirresistible desire to see him down on his knees, in a position only fitfor slaves.
Directly the words had left her mouth, she already regretted them, forhis refusal now would have been doubly humiliati
ng for herself, and hergood sense had told her already that no patrician--least of all TaurusAntinor--would submit quietly to public insult and ridicule even fromher.
The quick, more gentle word was already on her lips, the look of muteapology was struggling to her eyes, when to her astonishment thepraefect, without a word, was down on his knees before her.
"Nay!" she said, "I did but jest."
"The honour," he said quietly, "is too great, O daughter of Caesar, thatI should forego it now."
His powerful shoulders were bent almost to the level of the ground, andshe looked down on him, more puzzled than ever at this stranger whoseevery action seemed different from those of his fellow-men. She put herlittle foot slightly forward, and as he tied the string of her shoe shesaw how slender was his hand, firm yet tapering down to the elegantfinger-tips; the hand of a patrician even though he hailed from thebarbaric North.
Suddenly she smiled. But this he did not see for he was still intentupon the shoe, but she felt that those slender hands of his weresingularly clumsy. And she smiled because she had recollected how likehis fellowmen he really was, how he evidently forgot his wrath and sankhis pride for the pleasure of kneeling at her feet.
To this homage she was well accustomed. Many there were in Rome who atthis moment would gladly have changed places with the praefect. Morethan one great patrician had craved the honour of tying her shoe, morethan one patrician hand had trembled whilst performing this service.
And Dea Flavia smiled because already she guessed--or thought that sheguessed--what would follow the tying of her shoe--a humble kiss upon herfoot, the natural homage of a man to her beauty and to her power.
The daughter of Caesar smiled because the spirit of child-likewaywardness was in her, and she thought that she would like theslave-like homage from this man whom her wrath and threats had leftimpassive but whom her beauty had at last brought down to his knees; andthus smiling she waited patiently, content that he should be clumsy,glad that in the distance, under the arcade of the tabernae, she hadspied Hortensius Martius watching with wrathful eyes every movement ofthe praefect. She wondered if the young exquisite had heard the wordywarfare between herself and the proud man who now knelt quite awkwardlyat her feet, and she guessed that what Hortensius had seen and heard,that he would retail at full length to his friends in the course of thebanquet given by Caius Nepos to-morrow night.
For the moment she felt almost sorry for the giant brought down to hisknees; the kiss which she so confidently anticipated would of a truthcomplete his surrender, since she had resolved to make him kiss the dustby suddenly withdrawing her foot from under his lips, and then to laughat him, and to allow her slaves to laugh and jeer at him as he laysprawling in the dust, his huge arms lying crosswise on the flagstonesbefore her.
The spirit of mischief was in her, the love to tease a helpless giant;so for the nonce anger almost died out within her and her eyes lookedclear and blue as triumph and joy danced within their depths.
But now Taurus Antinor had finished tying her shoe. He did not stoopfurther nor did he embrace the dust; but he straightened his broadshoulders and raised himself from his knees without rendering thathomage which was expected of him.
"Hast further commands for thy servant, O daughter of Caesar?" he askedcalmly.
"None," she replied curtly.
And calling her slaves to her she entered her litter, and drew itscurtains closely round her so that she should no longer be offended byhis sight.