The Last Days of Pompeii

  Chapter VII

  THE DRESSING-ROOM OF A POMPEIAN BEAUTY. IMPORTANT CONVERSATION BETWEENJULIA AND NYDIA.

  THE elegant Julia sat in her chamber, with her slaves around her--likethe cubiculum which adjoined it, the room was small, but much largerthan the usual apartments appropriated to sleep, which were sodiminutive, that few who have not seen the bed-chambers, even in thegayest mansions, can form any notion of the petty pigeon-holes in whichthe citizens of Pompeii evidently thought it desirable to pass thenight. But, in fact, 'bed' with the ancients was not that grave,serious, and important part of domestic mysteries which it is with us.The couch itself was more like a very narrow and small sofa, lightenough to be transported easily, and by the occupant himself, from placeto place; and it was, no doubt, constantly shifted from chamber tochamber, according to the caprice of the inmate, or the changes of theseason; for that side of the house which was crowded in one month,might, perhaps, be carefully avoided in the next. There was also amongthe Italians of that period a singular and fastidious apprehension oftoo much daylight; their darkened chambers, which first appear to us theresult of a negligent architecture, were the effect of the mostelaborate study. In their porticoes and gardens they courted the sunwhenever it so pleased their luxurious tastes. In the interior of theirhouses they sought rather the coolness and the shade.

  Julia's apartment at that season was in the lower part of the house,immediately beneath the state rooms above, and looking upon the garden,with which it was on a level. The wide door, which was glazed, aloneadmitted the morning rays: yet her eye, accustomed to a certaindarkness, was sufficiently acute to perceive exactly what colors werethe most becoming--what shade of the delicate rouge gave the brightestbeam to her dark glance, and the most youthful freshness to her cheek.

  On the table, before which she sat, was a small and circular mirror ofthe most polished steel: round which, in precise order, were ranged thecosmetics and the unguents--the perfumes and the paints--the jewels andcombs--the ribands and the gold pins, which were destined to add to thenatural attractions of beauty the assistance of art and the capriciousallurements of fashion. Through the dimness of the room glowed brightlythe vivid and various colourings of the wall, in all the dazzlingfrescoes of Pompeian taste. Before the dressing-table, and under thefeet of Julia, was spread a carpet, woven from the looms of the East.Near at hand, on another table, was a silver basin and ewer; anextinguished lamp, of most exquisite workmanship, in which the artisthad represented a Cupid reposing under the spreading branches of amyrtle-tree; and a small roll of papyrus, containing the softest elegiesof Tibullus. Before the door, which communicated with the cubiculum,hung a curtain richly broidered with gold flowers. Such was thedressing-room of a beauty eighteen centuries ago.

  The fair Julia leaned indolently back on her seat, while the ornatrix(i.e. hairdresser) slowly piled, one above the other, a mass of smallcurls, dexterously weaving the false with the true, and carrying thewhole fabric to a height that seemed to place the head rather at thecentre than the summit of the human form.

  Her tunic, of a deep amber, which well set off her dark hair andsomewhat embrowned complexion, swept in ample folds to her feet, whichwere cased in slippers, fastened round the slender ankle by whitethongs; while a profusion of pearls were embroidered in the slipperitself, which was of purple, and turned slightly upward, as do theTurkish slippers at this day. An old slave, skilled by long experiencein all the arcana of the toilet, stood beside the hairdresser, with thebroad and studded girdle of her mistress over her arm, and giving, fromtime to time (mingled with judicious flattery to the lady herself),instructions to the mason of the ascending pile.

  'Put that pin rather more to the right--lower--stupid one! Do you notobserve how even those beautiful eyebrows are?--One would think you weredressing Corinna, whose face is all of one side. Now put in theflowers--what, fool!--not that dull pink--you are not suiting colors tothe dim cheek of Chloris: it must be the brightest flowers that canalone suit the cheek of the young Julia.'

  'Gently!' said the lady, stamping her small foot violently: 'you pull myhair as if you were plucking up a weed!'

  'Dull thing!' continued the directress of the ceremony. 'Do you notknow how delicate is your mistress?--you are not dressing the coarsehorsehair of the widow Fulvia. Now, then, the riband--that's right.Fair Julia, look in the mirror; saw you ever anything so lovely asyourself?'

  When, after innumerable comments, difficulties, and delays, theintricate tower was at length completed, the next preparation was thatof giving to the eyes the soft languish, produced by a dark powderapplied to the lids and brows; a small patch cut in the form of acrescent, skillfully placed by the rosy lips, attracted attention totheir dimples, and to the teeth, to which already every art had beenapplied in order to heighten the dazzle of their natural whiteness.

  To another slave, hitherto idle, was now consigned the charge ofarranging the jewels--the ear-rings of pearl (two to each ear)--themassive bracelets of gold--the chain formed of rings of the same metal,to which a talisman cut in crystals was attached--the graceful buckle onthe left shoulder, in which was set an exquisite cameo of Psyche--thegirdle of purple riband, richly wrought with threads of gold, andclasped by interlacing serpents--and lastly, the various rings, fittedto every joint of the white and slender fingers. The toilet was nowarranged according to the last mode of Rome. The fair Julia regardedherself with a last gaze of complacent vanity, and reclining again uponher seat, she bade the youngest of her slaves, in a listless tone, readto her the enamoured couplets of Tibullus. This lecture was stillproceeding, when a female slave admitted Nydia into the presence of thelady of the place.

  'Salve, Julia!' said the flower-girl, arresting her steps within a fewpaces from the spot where Julia sat, and crossing her arms upon herbreast. 'I have obeyed your commands.'

  'You have done well, flower-girl,' answered the lady. 'Approach--youmay take a seat.'

  One of the slaves placed a stool by Julia, and Nydia seated herself.

  Julia looked hard at the Thessalian for some moments in rather anembarrassed silence. She then motioned her attendants to withdraw, andto close the door. When they were alone, she said, looking mechanicallyfrom Nydia, and forgetful that she was with one who could not observeher countenance:

  'You serve the Neapolitan, Ione?'

  'I am with her at present,' answered Nydia.

  'Is she as handsome as they say?'

  'I know not,' replied Nydia. 'How can I judge?'

  'Ah! I should have remembered. But thou hast ears, if not eyes. Do thyfellow-slaves tell thee she is handsome? Slaves talking with oneanother forget to flatter even their mistress.'

  'They tell me that she is beautiful.'

  'Hem!--say they that she is tall?'

  'Yes.'

  'Why, so am I. Dark haired?'

  'I have heard so.'

  'So am I. And doth Glaucus visit her much?'

  'Daily' returned Nydia, with a half-suppressed sigh.

  'Daily, indeed! Does he find her handsome?'

  'I should think so, since they are so soon to be wedded.'

  'Wedded!' cried Julia, turning pale even through the false roses on hercheek, and starting from her couch. Nydia did not, of course, perceivethe emotion she had caused. Julia remained a long time silent; but herheaving breast and flashing eyes would have betrayed, to one who couldhave seen, the wound her vanity had sustained.

  'They tell me thou art a Thessalian,' said she, at last breakingsilence.

  'And truly!'

  'Thessaly is the land of magic and of witches, of talismans and oflove-philtres,' said Julia.

  'It has ever been celebrated for its sorcerers,' returned Nydia,timidly.

  'Knowest thou, then, blind Thessalian, of any love-charms?'

  'I!' said the flower-girl, coloring; 'I! how should I? No, assuredlynot!'

  'The worse for thee; I could have given thee gold enough to havepurchased thy freedom hadst thou been more wis
e.'

  'But what,' asked Nydia, 'can induce the beautiful and wealthy Julia toask that question of her servant? Has she not money, and youth, andloveliness? Are they not love-charms enough to dispense with magic?'

  'To all but one person in the world,' answered Julia, haughtily: 'butmethinks thy blindness is infectious; and... But no matter.'

  'And that one person?' said Nydia, eagerly.

  'Is not Glaucus,' replied Julia, with the customary deceit of her sex.'Glaucus--no!'

  Nydia drew her breath more freely, and after a short pause Juliarecommenced.

  'But talking of Glaucus, and his attachment to this Neapolitan, remindedme of the influence of love-spells, which, for ought I know or care, shemay have exercised upon him. Blind girl, I love, and--shall Julia liveto say it?--am loved not in return! This humbles--nay, not humbles--butit stings my pride. I would see this ingrate at my feet--not in orderthat I might raise, but that I might spurn him. When they told me thouwert Thessalian, I imagined thy young mind might have learned the darksecrets of thy clime.'

  'Alas! no, murmured Nydia: 'would it had!'

  'Thanks, at least, for that kindly wish,' said Julia, unconscious ofwhat was passing in the breast of the flower-girl.

  'But tell me--thou hearest the gossip of slaves, always prone to thesedim beliefs; always ready to apply to sorcery for their own lowloves--hast thou ever heard of any Eastern magician in this city, whopossesses the art of which thou art ignorant? No vain chiromancer, nojuggler of the market-place, but some more potent and mighty magician ofIndia or of Egypt?'

  'Of Egypt?--yes!' said Nydia, shuddering. 'What Pompeian has not heardof Arbaces?'

  'Arbaces! true,' replied Julia, grasping at the recollection. 'Theysay he is a man above all the petty and false impostures of dullpretenders--that he is versed in the learning of the stars, and thesecrets of the ancient Nox; why not in the mysteries of love?'

  'If there be one magician living whose art is above that of others, itis that dread man,' answered Nydia; and she felt her talisman while shespoke.

  'He is too wealthy to divine for money?' continued Julia, sneeringly.'Can I not visit him?'

  'It is an evil mansion for the young and the beautiful,' replied Nydia.'I have heard, too, that he languishes in...'

  'An evil mansion!' said Julia, catching only the first sentence. 'Whyso?'

  'The orgies of his midnight leisure are impure and polluted--at least,so says rumor.'

  'By Ceres, by Pan, and by Cybele! thou dost but provoke my curiosity,instead of exciting my fears,' returned the wayward and pamperedPompeian. 'I will seek and question him of his lore. If to these orgieslove be admitted--why the more likely that he knows its secrets!'

  Nydia did not answer.

  'I will seek him this very day,' resumed Julia; 'nay, why not this veryhour?'

  'At daylight, and in his present state, thou hast assuredly the less tofear,' answered Nydia, yielding to her own sudden and secret wish tolearn if the dark Egyptian were indeed possessed of those spells torivet and attract love, of which the Thessalian had so often heard.

  'And who dare insult the rich daughter of Diomed?' said Julia,haughtily. 'I will go.'

  'May I visit thee afterwards to learn the result?' asked Nydia,anxiously.

  'Kiss me for thy interest in Julia's honour,' answered the lady. 'Yes,assuredly. This eve we sup abroad--come hither at the same hourto-morrow, and thou shalt know all: I may have to employ thee too; butenough for the present. Stay, take this bracelet for the new thoughtthou hast inspired me with; remember, if thou servest Julia, she isgrateful and she is generous.'

  'I cannot take thy present,' said Nydia, putting aside the bracelet;'but young as I am, I can sympathize unbought with those who love--andlove in vain.'

  'Sayest thou so!' returned Julia. 'Thou speakest like a free woman--andthou shalt yet be free--farewell!'