A Struggle for Rome, v. 1
CHAPTER VI.
In his study at Rome, comfortably stretched upon the soft cushions of alectus, lay Cethegus the Prefect.
He was of good cheer.
His examination had ended with full acquittal. Only in case of animmediate search in his house--such as the young King had ordered, butwhich his death had frustrated--could discovery have been apprehended.
He had succeeded in gaining permission to complete the fortificationsof Rome, supplying the funds out of his own exchequer, whichcircumstance still more increased his influence in that city.
The evening before he had held a meeting in the Catacombs. All thereports were favourable; the patriots were increasing in number andmeans.
The greater oppression which since the late occurrences at Ravennaweighed upon the Italians, could but serve to add to the ranks of themalcontents; and, which was the main thing, Cethegus now held all thethreads of the conspiracy in his own hands. Even the most jealousRepublicans implicitly acknowledged the necessity of committing theconduct of affairs, until the day of deliverance, to the most gifted ofmen.
The feeling against the barbarians had made such progress amongst allItalians, that Cethegus could entertain the project of striking a blowwithout the help of the Byzantines, as soon as ever Rome wassufficiently fortified.
"For," he repeatedly told himself, "all foreign liberators are easilysummoned, but with difficulty discarded."
Musing thus, Cethegus reposed upon his lectus. He laid aside Caesar's"Civil Wars," the leaves of which he had been turning over, and said tohimself:
"The gods must have great things in store for me; whenever I fall, itis like a cat--upon my feet and unhurt. Ah! when things go well withus, we like to share our content with others. But it is too dangerous apleasure to put trust in another, and Silence is the only faithfulgoddess. And yet one is human, and would like----"
Here a slave entered--the old Ostiarius Fidus--and silently handed toCethegus a letter upon a flat golden salver.
"The bearer waits," he said, and left the room.
Cethegus took up the letter. But as soon as he recognised the designupon the wax seal which secured the string twisted round thetablets--the Dioscuri--he cried eagerly, "From Julius--at a happyhour!" hastily untied the string, opened the tablets, and read, hiscold and pale countenance flushed with a warmth of pleasure usuallywholly strange to him:
"'To Cethegus the Prefect, from Julius Montanus.
"'How long it is, my fatherly preceptor'--(by Jupiter! that soundsfrosty)--'that I have delayed sending you the greeting which I owe you.The last time I wrote from the green banks of the Ilissos, where Isought for traces of Plato in the desolated groves of the Akademia, butfound none. I know well that my letter was not cheerful. The sadphilosophers, wandering in the lonely schools, surrounded by theoppressions of the Emperor, the suspicion of the priests, and thecoldness of the multitude, could only arouse my compassion. My soul wasgloomy; I knew not wherefore. I blamed my ingratitude to you, the mostgenerous of all benefactors.'
"He has never given me such intolerable names before," observedCethegus.
"'For two years I have travelled, accompanied by your slaves andfreedmen, endowed like a King of the Syrians with your riches, throughall Asia and Hellas; I have enjoyed all the beauty and wisdom of theancients, and my heart is still unsatisfied, my life empty. Not theenthusiastic wisdom of Plato; not the gilded ivory of Phidias; notHomer and not Thucydides gave me what I wanted! At last, at last, herein Neapolis, in this blooming, God-endowed city; here I found what Ihad unconsciously missed and sought for everywhere. Not dead wisdom,but warm, living happiness.'--(He is in love! At last, thou coyHippolyte! Thanks, Eros and Anteros!)--'Oh! my guardian, my father! doyou know what happiness it is for the first time to call a heart thatcompletely understands you, your own?'--(Ah, Julius!" sighed thePrefect, with a singular expression of softened sentiment, "as if Iknew it not?)--'a heart to which one can freely open his whole soul?Oh! if you have ever proved it, rejoice with me! sacrifice to Jupiter,the fulfiller! For the first time I have found a friend!'
"What does he say?" cried Cethegus indignantly; and starting up with alook of jealous pain, "The ungrateful boy!"
"'For thou wilt understand it well, until now I had no bosom friend.You, my fatherly preceptor----'"
Cethegus threw the tablets upon the tortoise-shell table, and walkedhastily up and down the room.
"Folly!" he then said quietly, took up the letter again, and read on:
"'You, so much older, wiser, better, greater than I--you had laid sucha weight of gratitude and reverence upon my young soul, that it couldnever unfold itself to you without reserve. I have also often heardwith discouragement the biting wit with which you mocked at all warmthand softness of feeling; and a sharp expression about your proud andclosely-compressed mouth has always killed such feelings in me, as thenight-frost kills the first violets.'--(Well, at all events, he issincere!)--'But now I have found a friend--frank, warm, young, andenthusiastic--and I feel a delight hitherto unknown to me. We are onein heart and soul; we wander together on sunny days and moonlightnights through the Elysian fields, and are never at a loss for wingedwords. But I must soon close this letter. He is a Goth'--(that too!"cried Cethegus, angrily)--"'and is named Totila.'"
Cethegus let drop the hand which held the letter. He said nothing. Heonly shut his eyes for an instant, and then he quietly read on again:
"'And is named Totila. The day after my arrival in Neapolis, as I waslounging through the Forum of Neptune, and admiring some statues underthe arches of a neighbouring house which had been exposed for sale by asculptor, there suddenly rushed at me, out of the door of this house, agrey-haired man with a woollen apron, all over white with plaster, andholding in his hand a pointed tool. He grasped my shoulder and shouted,"Pollux, my Pollux! have I found thee at last!" I thought the oldfellow was mad, and said, "You mistake, old man, I am called Julius,and come from Athens." "No," cried he; "thou art named Pollux, and comefrom Olympus!" And before I knew what had happened, he had pushed meinto the house. There I gradually found out what was the matter. It wasthe sculptor who had exposed the statues. In the ante-chamber stoodmany half-finished works, and the sculptor explained to me that foryears he had been thinking of a group of the Dioscuri. For the Castorhe had found a charming model in a young Goth. "But in vain," hecontinued, "have I prayed to Heaven for an inspiration for my Pollux.He must resemble the Castor; like him, a brother of Helena and a son ofJupiter. Complete similarity of feature and form must be there, and yetthe difference must be as apparent as the resemblance; they must eachbe completely individual. In vain I sought in all the baths andgymnasiums of Neapolis. I could not find the Leda-twin. And now agod--Jupiter himself--has led thee to my door! It struck me likelightning when I saw thee, 'There stands my Pollux, just as he ought tolook!' And I will never let thee depart living from my house until thouhast promised me thy head and thy body." I willingly promised thestrange old man to come again the next day; and I did so the moregladly when I afterwards learnt that my violent friend was Xenarchus,the greatest sculptor in marble and bronze that Italia has known for along time. The next day I went again, and found my Castor. It wasTotila; and I cannot deny that the great resemblance surprised me,although Totila is older, taller, stronger, and incomparably morehandsome than I. Xenarchus says that we are like a pale and agold-coloured citron--for Totila has fairer hair and beard--and just inthis manner, the master swears, were the two Dioscuri alike and unlike.So we learnt to know and love each other amongst the statues of thegods and goddesses in the studio of Xenarchus; became, in truth, Castorand Pollux, inseparable and intimate as they; and already the merrypopulace of Neapolis calls us by these names when we wander arm in armthrough the streets. But our new-made friendship was still more quicklyripened by a threatened danger, which might easily have nipped it inthe bud. One evening, as usual, we had wandered out of the Porta Nolanato seek refreshment after the heat of the day in the Baths of Tiber
ius.After the bath--in a mood of sportive tenderness--you will blame it--Ihad thrown my friend's mantle over me, and set his helmet, decoratedwith the swan's wings, upon my head. He entered into the joke, and,with a smile, threw my chlamys[4] around him; and, chatting peacefully,we went back through the pine grove in the gloom of approaching nightto the city. All at once a man sprang upon me from a taxus-bush behindme, and I felt cold steel at my throat. But the next moment themurderer lay at my feet, Totila's sword in his breast. Only slightlywounded, I bent over the dying man, and asked him what reason he had tohate and murder me. But he stared in my face, and breathed out, "Notthee--Totila, the Goth!" and he gave a convulsive shiver and was dead.By his costume and weapons, we saw that he was an Isaurian mercenary.'"
Again the hand which held the letter dropped, and Cethegus pressed theother to his forehead.
"Madness of chance!" he said; "to what mightest thou not have led!" Andhe read to the end. '"Totila said he had many enemies at Ravenna. Wereported the incident to Uliaris, the Gothic Earl at Neapolis. Hecaused the corpse to be examined, and instituted an inquiry--withoutresult. But this grave event has cemented our youthful friendship andconsecrated it with blood for ever. It has united us in an earnest andholy bond. The seal-ring of the Dioscuri, which you gave me at parting,was a friendly omen, and it has been pleasantly fulfilled; and when Iask myself to whom is owing all my happiness, it is to you, to youalone, who sent me to this city, where I have found all that I wanted!So may the gods requite you for it! Ah, I see that my letter speaksonly of myself and this friendship--write to me speedily, I beg, andlet me know how things go with you.--_Vale_."
A bitter smile passed across the Prefect's expressive mouth, and heagain measured the room with rapid strides. At last he stopped,supporting his chin in his hand:
"How can I be so--childish--as to vex myself? It is all very natural,if very foolish. You are sick, Julius. Wait; I will write you aprescription."
And with an expression of pleased malice on his face, he seated himselfupon the writing-divan, took a Cnidian reed-pen, and wrote with the redink from a cup of agate, in the shape of a lion's head, which wasscrewed into the lectus:
"To Julius Montanus: Cethegus, Prefect of Rome.
"Your touching epistle from Neapolis amused me much. It shows that youhave not yet outlived the last childish ailments. When you have laidthem aside you will be a man. In order to precipitate this crisis, Iwill prescribe the best means. You will at once seek for the trader inpurple, Valerius Procillus, the oldest friend that I have in Neapolis.He is the richest merchant of the East, an inveterate enemy of theEmperor of Byzantium, and as good a republican as Cato; merely on thataccount he is my trusted friend. But his daughter, Valeria Procilla, isthe most beautiful Roman girl of our time, and a true daughter of theancient, the heathen world. She is only three years younger than you,and therefore ten times as wise. At the same time her father will notrefuse you if you explain to him that Cethegus sues for you. But thouwilt fall deeply in love at first sight! Of this I am sure; although Itell it you beforehand, although you know that I wish it. In her armsyou will forget all the friends in the world; when the sun rises, themoon pales. Besides, do you know that your Castor is one of the mostdangerous enemies of the Romans? And I once knew a certain Julius whoswore: 'Rome before all things!'--_Vale_."
Cethegus rolled the papyrus together, tied it with a string of redbast, fastened the knot with wax, and pressed his amethyst ring,engraved with a splendid head of Jupiter, upon it. Then he touched asilver eagle which protruded from the marble wainscoting of the room;outside, upon the wall of the vestibule, a bronze thunderbolt struckupon the silver shield of a fallen Titan with a clear bell-like tone.The slave re-entered the room.
"Let the messenger have a bath; give him food and wine, a gold solidus,and this letter. To-morrow at sunrise he will return to Neapolis."