A Struggle for Rome, v. 1
CHAPTER XIII.
That same day the inhabitants of the villa entered upon their journeyto Ravenna.
Cethegus sent a courier forward with a letter from Rusticiana to theQueen-regent. Therein the widow of Boethius declared, "that by themediation of the Prefect of Rome, she was now ready to accept therepeated invitation to return to court. She did not accept it as an actof pardon, but of conciliation; as a sign that the heirs of Theodoricwished to make amends for the injustice done to the deceased."
This proud letter was written from Rusticiana's very heart, andCethegus knew that such a step would do no harm, and would only excludeany suspicious construction that might be laid upon the sudden changein her sentiments.
Half-way the travellers were met by a messenger bearing the Queen'sanswer, which bade them welcome to her court.
Arrived in Ravenna, they were received by the Queen with all honours,provided with a retinue, and led into the rooms which they had formerlyoccupied. They were warmly welcomed by all the Romans at court.
But the anger of the Goths--who abhorred Symmachus and Boethius asungrateful traitors--was greatly excited by this measure, which seemedto imply an indirect condemnation of Theodoric. The last remainingfriends of that great King indignantly left the Italianised court.
Meanwhile, time, the diversions of the journey, and the arrival atRavenna, had softened Camilla's excitement. Her anger had the more timeto abate, as many weeks elapsed before she met Athalaric; for the youngKing was dangerously ill.
It was said at court, that while on a visit to Aretium, whither he hadgone to enjoy the mountain air, the baths, and the chase, he had drankfrom a rocky spring in the woods of Tifernum while heated with hunting,and had thereby brought on a violent attack of his former malady. Thefact was, that his followers had found him lying senseless by the sideof the spring where he had met Camilla.
The effect of this story upon Camilla was strange. To the hate she boreto Athalaric was now added a slight feeling of compassion, and even asort of self-reproach. But on the other side, she thanked Heaven that,by this illness, the meeting was postponed, which, now that she was inRavenna, she feared no less than she had longed for it while far awayin Tifernum.
And as she wandered in the wide-spread grounds of the magnificentpalace-gardens, she was repeatedly reminded of the anxious care withwhich Corbulo's little estate had been fashioned after this model.
Days and weeks passed. Nothing was heard of the patient except that hewas convalescent, but forbidden to leave his rooms. The physicians andcourtiers who surrounded him often expressed to Camilla theiradmiration of his patience and strength of mind while suffering themost acute pains, his gratitude for the slightest service, and thenoble mildness of his disposition.
But when she caught herself listening with pleasure to these words ofpraise, she frowned angrily, and the thought arose within her: "And hedid not oppose the murder of my father!"
One hot July night, after long and restless wakefulness, Camillatowards daybreak had sunk into an uneasy slumber.
Anxious dreams disturbed her.
It seemed to her as if the ceiling of the room, with all itsbas-reliefs, were sinking down upon her. Directly over her head was abeautiful young Hypnos, the gentle God of Sleep, modelled by the handof a Greek.
She dreamed that the drowsy god assumed the earnest, sorrowful featuresof his pale brother Thanatos.
Softly and slowly the God of Death bent his countenance above her. Heapproached nearer and nearer. His features became more and moredistinct. She already felt his breath upon her forehead. His beautifullips almost touched her mouth. Then she recognised with affright thepale features--the dark eyes. It was Athalaric! With a scream shestarted up.
The silver lamp had long since burnt out. The room was dim.
A red light gleamed faintly through the window of spar-gypsum. She roseand opened it. The cocks were crowing, the first rays of the sun gentlystole over the sea, of which, beyond the garden, she had a full view.She could no longer bear to remain in the close chamber.
She threw a mantle over her shoulders and hurried softly out of thestill silent palace, down the marble steps, and into the garden; acrosswhich the fresh morning wind from the neighbouring sea blew towardsher.
She hastened towards the sun and the sea, for, to the east, the highwalls of the palace gardens rose directly out of the blue waves of theAdriatic.
A gilded lattice-gate, and, beyond it, ten broad steps of whiteHymettus marble, led to the little garden-harbour, in which rocked thelight-oared gondolas with their lateen sails of purple linen-cloth,fastened with silver chains to the ornamental rams'-heads fixed rightand left upon the marble quay.
At the side of the lattice-gate towards the garden, the grounds endedin a spacious rotunda, which was surrounded with broad and shady pines.The ground was laid out with carefully-tended grassplots, intersectedby neat paths, and diversified by gay beds of sweet-scented flowers. Aspring, ornamentally enclosed, ran down the declivity into the sea. Inthe centre of this place was a small and antique Temple of Venus,overtopped by a single palm-tree, while burning-red saxifrage grewin the now empty niches of its outer walls. At the right of itslong-closed door stood a bronze statue of AEneas. The Julius Caesar tothe left had fallen centuries ago. Theodoric had placed upon itspedestal a bronze statue of Amala, the mythic forefather of his house.
Between these statues, from the steps of the little fane, was asplendid view through the lattice-gate over the sea, with its woodylagoon-islands, and a group of jagged rocks, called "the Needles of theAmphitrites."
This had been a favourite resort of Camilla's childhood. And it washither that she now bent her steps, lightly brushing the plentiful dewfrom the high grass as, with slightly-lifted garments, she hastenedalong the narrow pathway. She wished to behold the sun rise glowingfrom the sea.
She advanced from behind the temple, passed to the estrade on the left,and had just set her foot upon the first step which led from the frontof the temple to the lattice-gate, when she caught sight of a whitefigure reclining on the second step, with the head leaning against thebalustrade and the face turned towards the sea.
She recognised the black and silky hair; it was the young King.
The meeting was so unexpected that there was no possibility of avoidingit. As if rooted to the ground, she stood still upon the first step.
Athalaric sprang up and quickly turned. His pallid face was illuminedby a vivid flush. But he was the first to recover himself, and said:
"Forgive, Camilla. I could not expect you to come here at this hour. Iwill go; and leave you alone with the rising sun."
And he flung his white mantle over his shoulder.
"Remain, King of the Goths. I have no right to scare you away--and nointention," she added.
Athalaric came a step nearer.
"I thank you. And I beg one favour," he added, smiling. "Do not betrayme to my physicians nor to my mother. All day long they shut me up socarefully, that I am obliged to escape before sunrise. For the freshair, the sea-breeze, does me good; I feel that it cools me. You willnot betray me?"
He spoke so quietly. He looked so unembarrassed. This freedom fromembarrassment confused Camilla. She would have felt more courageous ifhe had been more moved. She observed his coolness with pain, but notbecause she really cared for the Prefect's plans. So, in answer, sheonly shook her head in silence, and cast down her eyes.
At that moment the rays of the sun reached the spot on which the pairwere standing.
The old temple and the bronze of the statues shone in the rosy light;and from the east a broad path of trembling gold was laid upon thesmooth flood.
"See, how beautiful!" cried Athalaric, carried away by his admiration."Look at that bridge of light and glory!"
She joined in his admiration, and looked out over the sea.
"Do you remember, Camilla," he continued slowly, as if lost inrecollection, and not looking at her, "do you remember how we playedhe
re when we were children? How we dreamed? We said that the goldenpath painted on the waters by the sun, led to the Islands of theBlessed."
"To the Islands of the Blessed!" repeated Camilla. In secret she waswondering at the delicacy and ease with which, avoiding every allusionto their last meeting, he conversed with her in a manner, whichcompletely disarmed her.
"And look, how the statues glitter, that wonderful pair, AEneasand--Amala! Listen, Camilla, I have something to beg pardon for."
Her heart beat rapidly. He was going to speak of the rebuilding of theVilla and the fountain. The blood rose to her cheeks. She remainedsilent in painful expectation.
But the youth continued quietly:
"You know how often--you the Roman, and I the Goth--vied with eachother here in praises of the glory and fame and manners of our people.Then you stood under the statue of AEneas, and told me of Brutus andCamillus, of Marcellus and the Scipios. And I, leaning against theshield of my ancestor Amala, praised Ermanaric and Alaric andTheodoric. But you spoke more eloquently than I. And often, when theglory of your heroes threatened to outshine mine, I laughed at yourdead greatness, and cried, 'The living present and the glowing futurebelong to my people!'"
"Well, and now?"
"I speak so no more. You have won, Camilla!"
But even while he spoke thus, he looked prouder than ever.
And this expression of superiority revolted the Roman girl. Besidesthat, she was irritated by the unapproachable coolness with which theKing, upon whose passion for her such plans were being founded, stoodbefore her. She did not understand this tranquillity. She had hated himbecause he had dared to show her his love, and now her hate revivedbecause he was able to conceal it. With the intention to hurt hisfeelings she slowly said:
"So you acknowledge, King of the Goths, that your barbarians areinferior to the civilised nations?"
"Yes, Camilla," he answered quietly; "but only in one thing: in goodluck. In the favours of Fate as well as of Nature. Look at that groupof fishermen, who are hanging up their nets on the olive-trees upon thestrand. How beautiful are their forms! In motion and repose, in spiteof their rags, they are complete statues! Look at that girl with theamphora on her head. And there, at that old woman, who, leaning herhead on her arm, lies upon the sand and gazes out dreamily over thesea. Each beggar amongst them looks like a dethroned king. Howbeautiful they are! At one with themselves and happy! The glory ofuninterrupted happiness lies upon them, as it does upon children, orupon noble animals! This is wanting to us barbarians!"
"Is that alone wanting to you?"
"No, Fate is not gracious to us--my poor, glorious people! We have beencarried away into a strange world, in which we do not flourish. Weresemble the flower of the high Alps, the Edelweiss, which has beencarried by the stormy wind to the hot sands of the low-levels. Wecannot take root here. We fade and die." And overcome with noblesadness, he turned away and looked over the blue waves.
But Camilla was not in the humour to reflect upon these prophetic wordsspoken by a king of his people.
"Why did you overstep the mountains which God set as an eternalboundary between your people and ours?" she asked. "Say, why?"
"Do you know," answered Athalaric, without looking at her, almost as ifthinking aloud, "do you know why the dark moth flies to the brightflame? Again and again! Warned by no pain, until it is devoured by thebeautiful but dangerous element? From what motive? From a sweetmadness! And it is just such a sweet madness that has enticed myfellow-Goths away from the fir and the oak to the laurel and the olive.They will burn their wings, the foolish heroes, and will not cease todo so. Who can blame them for it? Look around you! How deeply blue thesky! How deeply blue the sea! And in it are reflected the summits ofthe pines and the white glitter of the marble temples! And away in thedistance arise blue mountains; and out in the waters swim greenislands, where the vine clings to the elm. And, above all, the soft,warm and caressing air that illumines the whole with a magic light.What wonders of form and colour does the eye drink, and what sweetnessdo the delighted senses breathe! This is the magic charm which will forever entice and undo us!"
The deep emotion of the young King did not fail to make an impressionupon Camilla. The tragic force of his words affected her; but she_would_ not be moved. She defended herself against the increasingsoftness of her feelings. She said coldly:
"A whole nation enchanted by this magic, in spite of reason andjudgment?" and she looked at him incredulously.
But she was startled; for like lightning flashed the eyes of the youth,and his long-withheld passion broke out suddenly without restraint.
"Yes, I tell thee, maiden! a whole people can nourish a foolishpassion, a sweet destructive madness, a deadly longing, as well as--aswell as a single man! Yes, Camilla, there is a power in the heart,which, stronger than reason and will, forcibly draws us with open eyesto destruction. But thou knowest it not, and mayst thou neverexperience it. Never! Farewell!"
He quickly turned away and entered a bowery walk of climbing vines tothe right of the temple, which immediately hid him from Camilla, aswell as from the windows of the palace. The girl remained standing indeep reflection. His last words echoed strangely in her ears. For along time she looked out dreamily over the open sea, and at lastreturned to the palace, filled with strangely conflicting feelings, andin an altered mood.