Page 11 of Domitia


  CHAPTER XI.

  THE VEILS OF ISHTAR.

  Domitia did not go into the house, as desired, to receive Lamia.

  She was well aware that he would come to her into the garden, if she didnot present herself within, and she preferred to speak with him away fromher mother.

  She therefore continued to walk under the vines. She looked up at thesunlight filtering through the broad green flaky shade, with here andthere a ray kissing a purple, pendent bunch of grapes.

  Then she looked at the dreaming peacock, the sun flashing on its metallicplumage.

  No! matter was not evil. Matter, indeed, without life was not even likethe statue--for that was a copy of what lived, and failed just in this,that it fell short of life. Domitia felt as though she were touching theedge of a great verity, but had not set her foot upon it. Then sheconsidered what Euphrosyne had said to her, and she to her slave. Whereverthe path of duty lay, there violets bloomed and verbena scented the air.Was not life itself, devoid of the knowledge of its purport, and itsobligations and its destiny, like matter uninformed by Life? Or if anylife entered into it, it was the disintegrating life of decay anddecomposition?

  She, for her part, had no obligations laid on her. If, however, she weremarried to Lamia, then at once duties would spring up, and her way wouldbe rosy. Till then her happiness hung in suspense, like that of hermother, during the period of widowhood in which she was expected andrequired to live in retirement. Out of society, not elbowing andshouldering her way forward--that was a year of blank and of unhappiness toLonga Duilia, in which she found no consolation save in badgering hersteward, and in scheming for the future.

  Lamia, as Domitia expected he would, came to her under the trellis, andshe received him with that dimple in her cheek which gave her expressionso much sweetness mingled with pathos,

  "Lucius," she said, "you are good to come. My mother is, oh! so dull, andrestless withal."

  "It is well that she should be away from Rome, my Domitia. I have told heras much. On no account must you leave Gabii. Rome is boiling over, andwill scald many fingers. None know who will be up to-morrow, and whichdown. Galba is dead, almost torn to pieces by those who worshipped himyesterday. Otho is proclaimed by the Senate. Yet there is fresh troublebrewing and threats sound from the provinces. Methinks every general atthe head of an army is marching upon Rome to snatch the purple for his ownshoulders. Otho has but a poor chance. He can command the praetorians andthe household troops--none others. Soldiers that have disbanded themselvesand gangs of robbers prowl the streets, waylay men of substance andplunder them, break into houses and strip them of their contents. Murdersare frequent. Thus far your palace in the Carinae is undisturbed."

  "Oh, Lucius! my mother has so fretted over that house, as it stands back,and makes no show behind its bank of yews and laurels, and yet thoseevergreens, I believe, saved it in the fire. She says that the house isunworthy of our dignity."

  "You may rejoice that it is so in such times of anarchy. Order in the cityis now at an end, none are safe unless attended by armed slaves; and, bythe Gods! no man is quite safe even from his own slaves."

  "What did my mother say to that?"

  "She sighed and said--" there was a twinkle in Lamia's eye, "that she wasglad the disturbances were taking place now, as at no time could they havehappened so happily, when she was obliged to live in retirement."

  "Lucius, what do you think will be the end?"

  "That the gods alone can tell. At present the soldiers are masters in theState, and the Senate proclaims whomsoever they set up. Rome is dishonoredin the face of the Barbarians."

  "What think you, my Lucius,--shall we ask the Chaldee if he can unveil thefuture?"

  "Not of the State, Domitia, that were too dangerous. Women have lost theirlives, or been banished on such a charge. No, do not risk it."

  "Nay, Lucius, like my mother, the State concerns me only so far as itsaffairs affect my own silly little interests. But I do want to knowsomething of my future. Elymas is reputed to look into destiny. He hathglimpses beyond the strain of a philosopher's eye. I have offended him bymy quips and objections, and would humor him now by asking him to read inthe stars, or where he will, what the gods have in store for me."

  "I believe not in such vision."

  "Nor I greatly, Lucius. Yet I heard say that he had prognosticated evil onthe day my dear father set foot in Cenchraea."

  "It needed no prophet to foretell that."

  "Shall we seek him, Lucius?"

  "As you will. I will attend thee. Only, no questions relative to theprince, as to his life, his reign, his health. No questions concerning theState--promise me that."

  "It shall be so, Lucius. Come with me to the Temple of Isis. He is there."

  The two young people walked to a small shrine or aediculum at the extremityof a terrace above the lake.

  In the colonnade in front of the door was the Magus. He was out of humor,offended at his treatment by Domitia. His sole satisfaction was thatSenecio, the Stoic, was placed below him in her estimation.

  Now the girl went up to him, with a pretty, winning smile, and said:

  "Sir! I fear me greatly that I gave you occasion to think I held yourtheories cheaply. Indeed it is not so, they are too weighty to bedismissed at once; they take time to digest. There is one thing you may dofor me, that I desire of you heartily, and in which I will not controvertyour authority. It is said that the stars rule the destinies of men, andthat in the far East, on the boundless plains of Mesopotamia, you and yourpeople have learned to read them. I would fain know what the heavens havein store for me."

  "Indeed, lady, to consult the stars is a long and painful business, that Iwill gladly undertake, but it cannot be done hastily. It will requiretime. There are, however, other ways of reading the future than by thestars. There is Ishtar, whom the Egyptians call Isis, whom thou mayestconsult in this temple."

  "I am ready."

  "That also cannot be undertaken at once. I must even send for my assistantHelena. It is not I who see, save mediately. The goddess has her choseninstrument, and such is Helena. Lady! Ishtar is the Truth, she has noimage. She is invisible to us veiled in matter. She hides herself behindseven veils, or rather our eyes are so wrapped about that we cannot seeher who is visible only in spirit. Thou knowest that in the Temple flooris a rent, and through that rent the breath of the gods ascends. I willplace Helena over that rent, and she will fall into a trance, and if I saycertain prayers and use certain invocations, then the veils will fallaway, and in pure spiritual essence she will look into the face of Ishtarand read therein the Truth, past, present, and future. Is it your pleasureto consult the goddess?"

  "Indeed I do desire it," said Domitia.

  "Thou hast no fear?"

  "Fear! fear of what?"

  "Of the future. It is well for us that the gods hide this from our eyes."

  Domitia turned and looked at Lamia.

  "No," she said with a smile, "I have no fear for my future."

  "That which is anticipated does not always come, but rather that which isunexpected."

  "Then when forewarned, one is forearmed."

  "If it be thy pleasure, lady, return at sunset. Then Helena shall be here,and I shall have made my preparations."

  "That is but an hour hence. Be it so. Come, Lamia. Thou shalt row me onthe lake till Elymas call."

  "So be it," said Lucius; and as they withdrew, he added, "I like that not.If it pleased the gods to show us what is in store, then they would revealit to us. I mistrust me, this man is either an impostor or he deals withthe spirits of evil."

  "Nay, think not so. Why should not the Truth lie behind seven veils, andif so, and we are able, why not pluck away those veils?"

  "In good sooth, Domitia, thou hast more daring in thy little soul thanhave I."

  The girl and Lucius Lamia had been so much together in Syria, that theyhad come to regard each other with the affection of broth
er and sister. InGreek life the females occupied a separate portion of the house to themales, and did not partake of meals with them. There was no common familylife.

  Old Roman domestic arrangements had been very different from this. Therethe wife and mother occupied a place of dignity, with her daughters aroundher, and sat and span in the atrium, where also the men assembled. Sheprepared the meals, and partook of them with her husband, and the sisterswith their brothers. The only difference between them at table was thatthe men reclined to eat, whereas the women sat on stools. But this homelife, which had been so wholesome and so happy, in the luxury and wealthof the age at the fall of the Commonwealth and the rise of Imperialism,had become an element of demoralization. For the conversation of the menhad grown shameless, the exhibitions at banquets of coarse drunkenness,and of dancing girls, and the singing of ribald songs by musicians, haddriven away shame from the cheeks of the women, and corrupted thefreshness of the children's innocence.

  Yet there were, through even the worst periods, households in which thehealthy old Roman simplicity and familiarity between the sexes remained,good fathers and mothers who screened their children's eyes from evilsights, devoted husbands and wives full of mutual reverence. Such had beenthe house of Corbulo, whether in Rome, or in Syria. He had been a strictand honorable soldier, and a strict and honorable father in his family.

  Thus it was that Lucius Lamia, and Domitia had seen much of each other,and that affection for each other mingled with respect had grown upnaturally and vigorously in their hearts.

  And now Lucius was paddling on the glassy tarn. He used but little action.Occasionally he dipped the paddles, then allowed the skiff to glideforward till she ceased to be moving, when again he propelled her with onestroke. He was musing; so also was Domitia.

  All at once he roused himself.

  "Domitia," said he, "Do you know that there is a rumor about that Nero isnot dead, but has fled to the Parthians, and that he will return?"

  "You do not say so!" The girl's color died away.

  "I do not believe it. It cannot be. The sword of your father would notbite so feebly as to let him live. Yet the tale is circulating. Men areuneasy--expecting something.

  "If he be dead and burnt, he cannot return."

  "No," said Lucius, "he cannot return from the dead. And yet--there bestrange rumors. Among the Christians, I am told, there has risen up aseer, who hath been taken with an ecstasy, and hath beheld wonderfulvisions. And this is reported, that he saw a beast arising out of the sea,having seven heads, and on each head a golden crown. And one of thoseheads, the fifth, received a death-wound. Then arose two other heads, andafter them the wounded head arose once again and breathed fire andslaughter, and the second state was worse than the first."

  "But, Lucius, what can this signify?"

  "They say it signifies the Empire of Rome, and that the heads are theprinces, and the fifth head, that is wounded as unto death, but not slain,is Nero, and that after two have arisen, then he will return."

  Domitia shuddered.

  "If he return, Lamia, he will not forget thee. Well, we will ourselveslook behind the veils; that is better than hearing through others whatsome unknown prophet hath said. See, on the shore stands Elymas, callingus."