CHAPTER XIV.
On the following day Titus Claudius presented himself a second time asa petitioner at the palace. Thus, under stress of circumstances, withina few hours the haughty man had twice been forced into a position whichhe had carefully avoided his whole life long.
There was to-day no public reception. Caesar had risen late, and now,when the sun was already high over the Caelian hill, he was sittingwith Clodianus and Parthenius in a room looking to the south-east.He knew full well why Titus Claudius craved an audience, for thecity-prefect had informed him the day before of the strange occurrencein the Tullianum.
When the high-priest perceived on entering, that the emperor was notalone, he involuntarily paused for an instant. Hitherto, when seriousmatters were under discussion, he had always enjoyed the privilege ofa tete-a-tete interview with Caesar, and the letter in which he hadasked admission to-day had expressly stated, that the occasion wasstrictly personal and private.
Domitian rose, went a few steps to meet him and kissed him. Neverbefore had this traditional formality seemed so meaningless andhypocritical to the high-priest, and there was an expression of suchdiabolical satisfaction on Caesar's face, that Titus Claudius for thefirst time felt an echo in his own mind of that public opinion, whichhe had hitherto so persistently rejected as prejudiced and unfair. Whata smirk, what a suspicious play of features! Some new intrigue musthave come in his way, some underhand transaction, and the high-priest'srequest might interfere with it! Titus Claudius had already had aninkling of this when, the day before, he had gained permission forCornelia to visit the prison. It almost looked as though Caesar hadkept the adjutant and the chamberlain about him, that their presencemight be a preservative against any possible fit of amiability andweakness.
"And what have you to say, my worthy Claudius?" asked Caesar, with coolformality.
The high-priest looked him steadily and respectfully in the face.
"My lord," he replied with much dignity, "I have again come to cravea favor. I do not know whether you have heard--my son's betrothed,stricken it would seem with sudden frenzy ..."
"I am informed of her crime," Domitian interrupted. "I pity yousincerely, but I cannot and ought not to weaken the arm of the law."
Titus Claudius turned pale.
"My lord," he began, drawing a painful breath, "I have come only toprevent the law from degenerating into blind cruelty. The law condemnsthe Nazarenes, but not a crazed girl who, in her desperate grief,feigns belief in their errors. Inform yourself my lord ..."
"The law judges of facts," Caesar threw in, "and not of feelings. Nonebut the gods can read the soul. Besides, how can you prove what youassert?"
"I will attest it by the most solemn oaths. I know, for certain, thatCornelia loathes the superstitions of the Nazarenes. My lord, TitusClaudius sues only for her, not for--the other. That may guarantee thehonesty of my purpose. If I could only stoop to lie--it would be forhim, and not for the niece of Cornelius Cinna."
His lips quivered as he spoke, and Clodianus looked with sympathy atthe man, lately so erect and haughty, now bent, his head drooping, hisspirit crushed. Even Parthenius, cold as he was, felt that momentaryqualm, of which a father's heart is conscious in seeing another parentsuffer. Domitian alone was unmoved.
"I have no doubt, Claudius, that you speak the truth," he said withaffected benevolence, "but my personal convictions have no right tospeak, when the safety of the State is involved. And that safety wouldbe endangered, if I were to yield to my feelings and to your wish,which so far, it is true, I can only guess. Is the city-prefect toset the prisoner free, that she may proclaim in every street: I am aChristian, but Titus Claudius has procured my pardon!...? You see,circumstances are too strong for me."
The high-priest looked at the ground in silence. Certainly, if Corneliapersisted in her madness, Caesar was right.
"Well, my lord," he began in a low, hoarse voice, "I confess that I hadoverlooked that contingency. She must, then, remain in confinementtill her excited brain has recovered its balance. But one thing yet Iwould crave of your grace: remove her at least from the dungeon, andlet her be kept in ward elsewhere. She is but a tender creature--dealwith her as with a sick child, not as with a criminal."
Domitian glanced meaningly at Parthenius, and he spoke with a sugaredsmile.
"Our clemency," he said, "is never weary of obliging our friends. Whenso meritorious an official expresses a wish or a request, his sovereignmust grant it--if it can possibly be reconciled with his duties andthe prosperity of the State. It is well! I will run the risk of beingaccused of undue partiality, and have the girl held in custody here,in the Palatium, with all the respect due to her. She will hardly feelher imprisonment even as a check upon her freedom; only she must on noconsideration quit the apartments I shall assign to her. You see, myworthy friend, how truly Domitian inclines to leniency.[100] Nay more,I will endeavor to mitigate the severity of Quintus' incarceration.Only, do not ask more than I ought to grant."
"I thank you," said Claudius, drawing himself up. "I am glad youconsent to be lenient with Cornelia. But, as regards my son--no, mylord; the horrors of imprisonment are my last hope. Solitude, misery,hunger--by these, if at all, his proud spirit may be broken. Ifthis should be the result, if he repents of his errors and does duepenance--then indeed I will advance a claim on the mercy of the Rulerof the world."
Caesar dismissed him, and the high-priest, utterly exhausted by thetension of this brief interview, hurried home, and shut himself up inhis own study. There was a bitter distrust lurking in his mind, likethe after-taste of some nauseous draught. Caesar had, at last, beengracious. And yet--that first impression was ineffaceable. Here, inthe privacy of home, he felt all that was wounding in that receptionmore keenly than at the moment. A strange spasm in his throat seemedto choke him, a dull headache weighed upon his brow, and the bloodthrobbed in his temples. He had been pacing the room, but suddenly hisknees gave way, he dropped into a chair, and all grew dark before hiseyes. But presently he staggered to his feet.
"I shall be ill," he said to himself. "Hold up, miserable body! yourtask is not yet ended! You must not and shall not give way, till thelast resources have been tried, and the last hope is dead."
And the mere will of this man of iron was strong enough at this appealto seem to work a miracle. Titus Claudius was firmer, calmer, andstronger at once, and a draught of icy-cold water completely restoredhis powers.
He went to join Octavia, to inform her as to the issue of his efforts.He found her alone; but in the adjoining room, with the door half open,Baucis was sitting and chattering, it would seem to herself. The priestclosed the door and told his story, and his manner and way of speakingwere reassuring. As he spoke the name of Quintus, Octavia sigheddeeply, but her looks showed that she had not yet given up her hope ofa happy ending to their trouble. When her husband had done speaking,she went up to him with the gentle and almost childlike reverence withwhich she always treated him, and took his hand.
"My dearest," she said, looking at him through her tears, "what haveyou not had to suffer in these dreadful times of sorrow and terror!If only I could relieve you of the whole burden of anxiety! We womensuccumb and bend, and the weight is less intolerable. But you--proud,unyielding, you hold up your head and stiffen your neck and sufferdoubly."
Titus Claudius embraced her in silence, and she leaned her head on hisshoulder and wept. He gently smoothed her still abundant hair and said,half-unconsciously: "Save your tears, Octavia! save your tears...."
"You will need them in a worse hour than this," he would have added,but he realized what he was saying in time to check himself. He claspedher more closely and only saying: "Farewell for the present," he turnedto leave the room.
"You are going?" she said disappointed.
"I have business to attend to."
"What, again to-day? I thought the most pressing work was now all over."
The priest sadly shook his head.
 
; "So long as our Quintus lies pining in a dungeon, I cannot have anhour's rest. What I must do, how and where to set to work--I have noidea. But I must try everything--everything. And alas! Rome is a wideworld, and the roads are endless, dear Octavia--if only one of themmight lead to the goal. Yes, one does--that I know full well--but it isa bloody and thorny path...."
"I do not understand you."
"No?" said the priest with a strange smile. "Well, if the law demandsa victim, it might be possible to effect an exchange. The few years Ihave to live--what can they matter? If the father's grey head weregiven for the son's young life--Justice would lose nothing."
"What are you saying?" cried Octavia horrified. "By Jupiter theall-merciful, cast off these hideous thoughts! You will save him--butnot at such a cost! Go, there is none like you! My heart at every throbis always with you."
At this instant Lucilia came into the room, flushed with eagerness; shehad on a long full cloak, as though prepared to go out.
"Where are you going?" asked Octavia, and the priest paused in thedoor-way.
"I have just returned from the house of Cneius Afranius, and I am nowgoing out with Claudia. I only wanted to hear what news my father hadbrought of Cornelia."
Octavia told her.
"Oh, that is good indeed!" said Lucilia delighted. "For my part Ihave always hoped for the best; for I cannot believe that Quintusever really joined those meek imposters--or even mixed with slavesand vagabonds. The whole thing must soon be cleared up; I wish itwere equally so hopeful for some other folks.--Poor old Fabulla! onlythink, mother, her son's name is really on the list of the proscribed,and it seems he is more hated at the Palatium than all the rest. Hishouse has been broken into by the city-prefect and every corner of itsearched; they say they mean to raze it to the ground. The poor womanis half-crazed, and I had to promise her that, as soon as matters weresettled for Quintus and Cornelia, I would go and spend a few days withher at Ostia. She is afraid she shall go out of her mind in her uttersolitude. But I must go now; Claudia is waiting for me in the litter.Ye gods! what a time of bustle and scurry; I never have a minute tomyself--well--good-bye for the present!"
Titus Claudius looked sadly after her.
"And she does not see either, what is hanging over our heads!" he saidhalf to himself. Then he went through the atrium and out of the house,followed by a few of his clients.
Domitian meanwhile had made arrangements for fulfilling his pledge assoon as possible, for the turn affairs had taken was precisely what hecould have wished. Without arousing any kind of suspicion, he couldthus have the girl in his power. Neither craft nor mystery was needed;in a simple, honorable and perfectly legal manner, he was attaining theend which, since the tragicomic scene in the temple of Isis, had becomea fixed idea with him. Barbillus, indeed, seemed to have set about thetask assigned to him in a very questionable manner, and now his wilyagency could be altogether set aside.
Almost at the very moment when Lucilia got into her litter, after hershort interview with her parents, another litter, closely curtainedand escorted by a small party of the imperial body-guard, was beingcarried by a circuitous route, past the Circus Maximus[101] to thePalatine Hill. Arrived at the Palatium, out stepped Cornelia, confusedand agitated, a pathetic image of anguish and despair. The events nowbefalling her, and a well-founded suspicion of what awaited her, filledher soul with apprehension; she had lost all her self-command, andtrembled like a reed.
Parthenius received her with marked politeness, and begged her pardonin flowery language for his inability, under the law, to set her atliberty at once. That, he admitted, was unhappily out of the question;but her durance should be made so easy and agreeable, that the fairCornelia could not but forgive him. Titus Claudius, who--as she nodoubt knew--had the greatest influence over Caesar, had made interestwith their imperial sovereign to spare her the horrors of the Mamertineprison; she was therefore to spend the interval till the decision ofher case in the Palace itself.
He led the way through the pillared halls, and Cornelia mechanicallyfollowed. But she kept her right hand tightly clasped over a spotin her breast-belt.[102] There, ever since that night of the Osirisperformance, she had kept a small phial of poison. She was determinedto be prepared for the worst. She had not a doubt that Caesar would,ere long, recommence his persecution; for such a failure was, to a manof his temper, reason enough in itself for a fresh attempt. FormerlyCornelia would have trusted to her maiden pride, her uncle's high rank,and to the aid of Isis the all-merciful. But now her pride had beendeeply wounded, her uncle had deserted her, and Isis the all-mercifulwas dead. She must have some means of protection, which in the lastextremity might save her from unthinkable shame, so she betook herself,as secretly as a criminal, to Bryonia,[103] a freed-woman of evilrepute living by the wall of Servius Tullius, who kept a tavern muchresorted to by the low population of the quarter, but who also preparedstrong potions of hemlock, wolf's bane, and venomous sea-creatures,which she sold to the wealthy and noble for good gold coin. Cornelia'sdesire to possess herself of a dose of this poison, was strong enoughto conquer all her loathing and to enable her to endure with coolcomposure the hag's mumbled enquiries as to whether it was a hatedhusband, a tyrannical guardian, or a successful rival she wished to getrid of. She paid the price and hid the tiny phial in her wide belt.There it was still--almost forgotten for a time under the stress ofthe events that had followed, but suddenly remembered again now, inthe very den of the imperial tiger. Cornelia felt the hard edge of thecrystal with a sort of sinister delight, the contact seemed to reviveher strength and resolution.
The room, to which she was led, was indeed an effective contrast to thevaults of the Mamertine prison. Everything, that the most extravagantluxury of a luxurious age could contrive, was combined in this littleroom, which was lighted by a skylight of costly glass panes. Carpets ofthe rarest kinds, magnificent flowers and plants in jars, soft pillowsand couches of gorgeous colored stuffs, columns of onyx and ornamentsof beaten gold--it was a perfect casket--of the most enchantingaspect, and well adapted to impress a girl whose keen sense of beautyhad been cultivated by wealthy surroundings. And in point of fact,notwithstanding her miserable plight, she could not help feeling thecharm as pleasant and restful. She drew a deep breath, the atmospherewas full of aromatic perfume, and yet as pure and fresh as themountain air that fanned the heights of Tibur.
"Here I will leave you," said the chamberlain. "Two slave-girls awaityour commands in the next room." He pointed to a heavy gold-fringedcurtain. "Here you are absolute mistress; there is nothing to remindyou that you are a captive, but the step of the guard at your door, ifyou should happen to hear it. And--I may add--it rests with yourself tocast off even these light fetters, as soon as you will. Farewell--fairCornelia. I shall often allow myself the honor of enquiring as to yourneeds or wishes."
He bowed low and went out; Cornelia could hear him speaking a few wordsto the guard outside, and then his steps died away in the labyrinth ofpassages.
Cornelia, fairly exhausted, sank upon a seat and rested her head onher hand. Her eyes slowly filled with scalding tears, that gatheredand rolled down her cheeks. To what straits had she been brought! Herlover in a prison and devoted to certain death--she herself offeredthe choice of the last conceivable disgrace, or of sharing his fate.Of what use was it to hope? If Quintus could resist the attack of herbesieging, imploring love, it was only too certain that his delusionshad overthrown his mind.
She abandoned herself unresistingly to her crushing grief--but suddenlyshe started up. She remembered where she was; she realized all thehideous significance of this transfer, which the unsuspecting Flamenhad accepted as an unqualified favor. She looked round her, and thesneering face of the tyrant seemed to leer at her through the eleganceof the room. A sense of unutterable desertion came over her, andwith her head thrown back and her arms flung up as if in desperatesupplication, she gazed at the blue autumn sky which looked down uponher, pale and remote, through the round skylight.
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sp; "Ah, miserable fate!" she cried, clenching her fists. "Why are you soempty and cold, ye skyey spaces? Why does no heart dwell beyond you,that can feel for us below--no merciful spirit, that can understandwhat crushes our souls? Oh Isis! Isis! With what fervor have I notbesought Thy favor!--and if Thou Art--if, anything resembling Theeexists beyond the stars!--but no; if Thou wert Isis, who should fearThee more than Thy priest? And he--he despises and desecrates Thee. Itis an invention of the brain, an illusion, a fable; and in my quakingheart all is wretched and hopeless enough without that fable."
She ceased to look upwards, her gaze fell, and she fixed her eyes onthe floor.
"There is none," she said, with dull conviction. "No help--but inBryonia's potion."
She paced the room, and her steps fell silently on the thick, soft rugs.
"A gilded cage indeed!" she muttered, looking round her. Then she wentto the door-way, and raised the curtain. Two handsome slave-girls werelying on fine panther skins; they seemed to be sleeping, but at therustle of the curtain they started up.
"Lie still," said Cornelia, with a melancholy smile, and they needed nosecond telling. They had perhaps spent the night as dancing-girls, orin waiting late on their master's orders; their pale, olive faces wereweary and worn.
Cornelia studied the details of this second room. It was completelyfitted as a bedroom, with everything that a Roman lady of rank couldneed for her elaborate toilet. A deeply-cushioned couch filled up allone wall to the left, and opposite to her was a door. Cornelia wentpast the sleeping handmaids and opened it. It led into a third room,small, dark and square, intended apparently as an eating-room. When thechandelier which hung from the ceiling should be lighted, this roomalso might look rich and comfortable, but it had no entrance exceptingthrough the cubiculum. All the rooms were lighted above; this thirdroom through a kind of shaft, that pierced the ceiling obliquely. Thusthe outer world was completely excluded.
Cornelia now returned to the first room, and tried whether the door,through which she and the chamberlain had entered, was bolted onthe outside. At a slight touch the two ebony wings turned easily ontheir hinges, and the young girl, with her swift impulses, was on thepoint of acting on her hope of liberty, when a glance at each end ofthe corridor showed her that she had been too hasty; three of thepraetorian guard, in full armor, were posted at each exit.
One of them came up to her, and asked, half-respectfully buthalf-ironically, if she had any orders. He was a gigantic Gaul,stalwart and broad-shouldered, with a good-humored look in his face.
"Do you take orders from a prisoner?" said Cornelia, haughtily.
"Why yes, mistress," said the soldier. "And, by Hercules! they will befulfilled with zeal. Sooner or later...."
But he broke off; Cornelia's lofty gravity confused him.
"What were you about to say?" she asked with a frown.
"I only meant.... If you and Caesar--if you were reconciled--Caesar isvery good-natured to the ladies--he loves. You might pay us off, if...."
"Man!" interrupted Cornelia, quivering with rage. "What do you take mefor?"
"For all that is sweet and lovely," said the man much disconcerted.But Cornelia heard him not; she had gone back into the room, and flungherself in despair upon a divan. Convulsive sobs choked her, butpresently the tears came, and at last, after crying silently for a longtime, she fell asleep. But even in her slumbers her hand still clutchedthe little phial of poison.
FOOTNOTES:
[100] YOU SEE, MY WORTHY FRIEND, HOW TRULY DOMITIAN INCLINES TO LENIENCY. See note 13. Vol. II.
[101] PAST THE CIRCUS MAXIMUS. The Circus Maximus lay south-west, the Mamertine Prison north-east of the Palatine Hill.
[102] BREAST-BELT. The breast-belt (_mamillare_) supplied the place of corsets to the Roman ladies.
[103] BRYONIA (the hedge-rape). Such professional poisoners are often mentioned. Locusta ("the grasshopper") a contemporary and accomplice of the emperor Nero, was specially notorious. See Suet _Ner._, 33; Tac. _Ann._ XXII, 66; Juv. _Sat._ I, 71. Our Bryonia is not historical.