CHAPTER VIII.
There was another man, besides Cassiodorus, who played a mostimportant, and, as it seemed to the Regency, a very deserving part, inthose days of transition. This was no other than Cethegus. He hadundertaken the momentous office of Prefect of Rome. As soon as the Kinghad closed his eyes for ever, Cethegus had instantly hurried to hisplace of trust, and had arrived there before the news of the event hadreached that city.
Before daybreak, he had collected the senators together in the_Senatus_, that is, in the closed hall of Domitian, near the temple ofJanus Geminus, on the right of the arch of Septimus Severus, and hadsurrounded the building with Gothic troops. He informed the surprisedsenators (many of whom he had only recently met in the Catacombs, andhad incited to the expulsion of the barbarians) of the alreadyaccomplished succession to the throne. He had also, not without manymild hints as to the spears of the Gothic hundreds, which might easilybe seen from the hall, taken their oaths of allegiance to Athalaricwith a rapidity that brooked no contradiction.
Then he left the "Senatus," where he kept the conscript fathers lockedup, until, with the support of the strong Gothic garrison, he had helda meeting of the assembled Romans which he had called in the Flavianamphitheatre, and had won the hearts of the easily-moved "Quirites" forthe young King.
He enumerated the generous deeds of Theodoric, promised the samebeneficence from his grandson, who was, besides, already acknowledgedby all Italy and the provinces, and also by the fathers of the city;announced a general feast for the Roman population, with the gift ofbread and wine, as the first act of the new government; and concludedwith the proclamation of seven days of games in the Circus (racesbetween twenty-four Spanish four-horsed chariots), with which hehimself would celebrate the accession of Athalaric, and his ownentrance into office.
At once a thousand voices shouted, with loud huzzas, the names of theQueen-Regent and her son; and still more loudly the name of Cethegus.Then the people joyously dispersed, the imprisoned senators werereleased, and the Eternal City was won for the Goths.
The Prefect hurried to his house at the foot of the Capitol, lockedhimself up, and eagerly wrote his report to the Queen-Regent.
But he was soon disturbed by a violent knocking upon the iron door ofthe house. It was Lucius Licinius, the young Roman whom we have alreadymet in the Catacombs. He struck with the hilt of his sword against thedoor till the house echoed.
He was followed by Scaevola, the jurist, with portentously frowningbrow, who had been amongst the imprisoned senators; and by Silverius,the priest, with doubtful mien.
The ostiarius looked prudently through a secret aperture in the wall,and, on recognising Licinius, admitted them.
Licinius rushed impetuously before the others through the well-knownvestibule and the colonnade of the atrium to the study of Cethegus.
When Cethegus heard the hastily-approaching footsteps, he rose from thelectus upon which he was lying writing, and put his letters into acasket with a silver lid.
"Ah, the saviours of the fatherland!" he said, smiling, and advancedtowards the door.
"Vile traitor!" shouted Licinius, his hand on his sword--anger impededfurther speech; he half drew his sword from the sheath.
"Stop! first let him defend himself, if he can," panted Scaevola,holding the young man's arm, as he hastened into the room.
"It is impossible that he can have deserted the cause of the HolyChurch," said Silverius, as he also entered.
"Impossible!" laughed Licinius. "What! are you mad, or am I? Has he notcaused us to be confined in our houses? Has he not shut the gates, andtaken the oaths of the mob for the barbarians?"
"Has he not," continued Cethegus, "caught the noble fathers of thecity, three hundred in number, and kept them in the Curia, like so manymice in a trap; three hundred aristocratic mice?"
"He dares to mock us? Will you suffer that?" cried Licinius. AndScaevola turned pale with anger.
"Well, and what would you have done had you been allowed to act?" askedthe Prefect quietly, crossing his arms on his broad breast.
"What should we have done?" cried Licinius. "What we, and you with us,have a hundred times decided upon. As soon as the news of the tyrant'sdeath had arrived, we should have killed all the Goths in the city,proclaimed a Republic, and chosen two consuls----"
"Of the names of Licinius and Scaevola; that is the first thing. Well,and then? What then?"
"What then? Freedom would have conquered!"
"Folly would have conquered!" broke out Cethegus in a thundering voice,which startled his accusers. "Well for us that your hands were bound;you would have strangled Hope for ever. Look here, and thank me uponyour knees!"
He took some records from another casket, and gave them to hisastonished companions.
"There; read! The enemy had been warned, and had thrown the noose roundthe neck of Rome in a masterly manner. If I had not acted as I did,Earl Witichis would be standing at this moment before the Salarian Gatein the north with ten thousand Goths; to-morrow young Totila would haveblockaded the mouth of the Tiber on the south with the fleet fromNeapolis; and Duke Thulun would have been approaching the Tomb ofHadrian and the Aurelian Gate from the west, with twenty thousand men.If, this morning early, you had touched a hair of a Goth's head, whatwould have happened?"
Silverius breathed again. The others were ashamed and silent. ButLicinius took heart.
"We should have defied the Goths behind our walls," he said, with atoss of his handsome head.
"Yes, when these walls are restored as I will restore them--foreternity, my Licinius: as they are now--not for a day."
"Then we had died as free citizens," said Scaevola.
"You might have done that in the Curie three hours ago," laughedCethegus, shrugging his shoulders.
Silverius stepped forward with open arms, as if to embracehim--Cethegus drew back.
"You have saved us all, you have saved Church and fatherland! I neverdoubted you!" exclaimed the priest.
But Licinius grasped the hand of the Prefect, who willingly abandonedit to him.
"I _did_ doubt you," he said with charming frankness. "Forgive me, yougreat Roman! This sword, with which I would have penetrated into yourvery heart, is henceforward at your service. And when the day offreedom dawns, then no consul, then _salve_, Dictator Cethegus!"
He hurried out with flashing eyes. The Prefect cast a satisfied glanceafter him.
"Dictator, yes; but only until the Republic is in full security," saidthe jurist, and followed Licinius.
"To be sure," said Cethegus, with a smile; "then we will wake upCamillus and Brutus, and take up the Republic from the point at whichthey left it a thousand years ago. Is it not so, Silverius?"
"Prefect of Rome," said the priest, "you know that I was ambitious toconduct the affairs of the fatherland as well as of the Church. Afterthis, I am so no more. You shall lead, I will follow. Swear to me onlyone thing: the freedom of the Roman Church--free choice of a Pope."
"Certainly," said Cethegus; "but first Silverius must have become Pope.So be it."
The priest departed with a smile upon his lips, but with a weight uponhis mind.
"Go," said Cethegus, after a pause, looking in the direction taken byhis three visitors. "You will never overthrow a tyrant--you need one!"
This day and hour were decisive for Cethegus. Almost against his will,he was driven by circumstances to entertain new views, feelings, andplans, which he had never, until now, put to himself so clearly,or confessed to be more than mere dreams. He acknowledged thatat this moment he was sole master of the situation. He had thetwo great parties of the period--the Gothic Government and itsenemies--completely in his power. And the principal motive-power in theheart of this powerful man, which he had for years thought paralysed,was suddenly aroused to the greatest activity. The unlimiteddesire--yes, the necessity--to _govern_, made itself all at onceserviceable to all the powers of his rich nature, and excited them toviolent emotion.
Cornelius Cethegus Caesarius was the descendant of an old and immenselyrich family, whose ancestor had founded the splendour of his house as ageneral and statesman under Caesar during the civil wars; it was evenrumoured that he was the son of the great Dictator.
Our hero had received from nature various talents and violent passions,and his immense riches gave him the means to develop the first andsatisfy the last to the fullest extent. He had received the mostcareful education that was then possible for a young Roman noble. Hepractised the fine arts under the best teachers; he studied law,history, and philosophy in the famous schools of Berytus, Alexandria,and Athens with brilliant success. But all this did not satisfy him. Hefelt the breath of decay in all the art and science of his time. Inparticular, his study of philosophy had only the effect of destroyingthe last traces of belief in his soul, without affording him anyresults. When he returned home from his studies, his father, accordingto the custom of the time, introduced him to political life, and hisbrilliant talents raised him quickly from office to office.
But all at once he abandoned his career. As soon as he had made himselfmaster of the affairs of state, he would no longer be a wheel in thegreat machine of a kingdom from which freedom was excluded, and which,besides, was subject to a barbarian King.
His father died, and Cethegus, being now his own master and possessorof an immense fortune, rushed into the vortex of life, enjoyment, andluxury with all the passion of his nature.
He soon exhausted Rome, and travelled to Byzantium, into Egypt, andeven as far as India.
There was no luxury, no innocent or criminal pleasure, in which he didnot revel; only a well-steeled frame could have borne the adventures,privations, and dissipations of these journeys.
After twelve years of absence, he returned to Rome.
It was said that he would build magnificent edifices. People expectedthat he would lead a luxurious life in his houses and villas. They weresadly deceived.
Cethegus only built for himself the convenient little house at the footof the Capitol, which he decorated in the most tasteful manner; andthere he lived in populous Rome like a hermit.
He unexpectedly published a description of his travels, characterisingthe people and countries which he had visited. The book had anunheard-of success. Cassiodorus and Boethius sought his friendship, andthe great King invited him to his court.
But on a sudden he disappeared from Rome.
What had happened remained a mystery, in spite of all malicious,curious, or sympathetic inquiries.
People told each other that one morning a poor fisherman had foundCethegus unconscious, almost dead, on the shores of the Tiber, outsidethe gates of the city.
A few weeks later he again was heard of on the north-east frontier ofthe kingdom, in the inhospitable regions of the Danube, where a bloodywar with the Gepidae, Avari, and Sclavonians was raging. There hefought the savage barbarians with death-despising courage, and followedthem with a few chosen troops, paid from his private means, into theirrocky fortresses, sleeping every night upon the frozen ground. Andonce, when the Gothic general entrusted to him a larger detachment oftroops in order to make an inroad, instead of doing this, he attackedand took Sirmium, the enemy's fortified capital, displaying no lessgood generalship than courage.
After the conclusion of peace, he travelled into Gaul, Spain, and againto Byzantium; returned thence to Rome, and lived for years in anembittered idleness and retirement, refusing all the military, civil,or scientific offices and honours which Cassiodorus pressed, upon him.He appeared to take no interest in anything but his studies.
A few years before the period at which our story commences, he hadbrought with him from Gaul a handsome youth, to whom he showed Rome andItaly, and whom he treated with fatherly love and care. It was saidthat he would adopt him. As long as his young guest was with him heceased his lonely life, invited the aristocratic youth of Rome tobrilliant feasts in his villas, and, accepting all invitations inreturn, proved himself the most amiable of guests.
But as soon as he had sent young Julius Montanus, with a stately suiteof pedagogues, freedmen, and slaves, to the learned schools ofAlexandria, he suddenly broke off all social ties, and retired intoimpenetrable solitude, seemingly at war with God and the whole world.
Silverius and Rusticiana had, with the greatest difficulty, persuadedhim to sacrifice his repose, and join in the conspiracy of theCatacombs. He told them that he only became a patriot from tedium. And,in fact, until the death of the King, he had taken part in theconspiracy--the conduct of which, however, was wholly in his and thearchdeacon's hands--almost with dislike.
It was now otherwise.
Until now, the inmost sentiment of his being--the desire to testhimself in all possible fields of intellectual effort; to overcome alldifficulties; to outdo all rivals; to govern, alone and withoutresistance, every circle that he entered; and, when he had won thecrown of victory, carelessly to cast it aside and seek for newtasks--all this had never permitted him to find full satisfaction inany of his aims.
Art, science, luxury, office, fame. Each of these had charmed him. Hehad excelled in all to an unusual degree, and yet all had left a voidin his soul.
To govern, to be the first, to conquer opposing circumstances with allhis means of superior power and wisdom, and then to rule crouching menwith a rod of iron; this, consciously and unconsciously, had alwaysbeen his aim. In this alone could he find contentment.
Therefore he now breathed proudly and freely. His icy heart glowed atthe thought that he ruled over the two great inimical powers of thetime, over both Goths and Romans, with a mere glance of his eye; andfrom this exquisite feeling of mastery, the conviction arose withdemonic force, that there remained but one goal for him and hisambition that was worth living for; but one goal, distant as the sun,and out of the reach of every other man. He believed in his descentfrom Julius Caesar, and felt the blood rush through his veins at thethought--Caesar, Emperor of the West, ruler of the Roman Empire!
A few months ago, when this thought first flashed across his mind--noteven a thought, not a wish, only a shadow, a dream--he was startled,and could not help smiling at his own boundless assurance.
_He_, Emperor and regenerator of the Empire! And Italy trembled underthe footsteps of three hundred thousand Goths! And the greatest of allbarbarian kings, whose fame filled the earth, sat on his powerfulthrone in Ravenna!
Even if the power of the Goths were broken, the Franks and Byzantineswould stretch their greedy hands over the Alps and across the sea toseize the Italian booty. Two great kingdoms against a single man! For,truly, he stood alone amid his people. How well he knew, how utterly hedespised his countrymen, the unworthy descendants of great ancestors!How he laughed at the enthusiasm of a Licinius or a Scaevola, whothought to renew the days of the Republic with these degenerate Romans!
He stood alone.
But the feeling only excited his ambition, and, at that moment, whenthe conspirators had left him, when his superiority had been moreplainly proved than ever before, the thoughts which had been aflattering amusement of his moody hours, suddenly ripened and formedthemselves into a clear resolve.
Folding his arms across his mighty chest, and measuring the apartmentwith heavy steps, like a lion in his cage, he spoke to himself inabrupt sentences:
"To drive out the Goths and prevent Franks and Greeks from entering,would not be difficult, with a brave host at one's back; any other mancould do it. But alone, quite alone, more hindered than helped by theseknaves without marrow in their bones; to accomplish the impossible; tomake these cowards heroes; these slaves, Romans; these servants of thepriests and barbarians, masters of the world; that, _that_ is worth thetrouble. To create a new people, a new time, a new world, with thepower of his single will and the might of his intellect, is what nomortal has yet accomplished--that would be greater than Caesar!--_he_led legions of heroes! and yet, it can be done, for it can be imagined.And I, who can imagine it, can do it. Yes, Cethegus, that is an aim forwhich it
is easy to think, to live, to die! Up, and to work! andhenceforward, no thought, no feeling, except for this one thing!"
He stood still at last before a colossal statue of Caesar, sculptured inParian marble, which--a masterpiece of Arkesilaus, and, according tofamily tradition, given by Julius Caesar himself to his son--stoodbefore the writing-divan, the most sacred treasure of the house.
"Hear me, divine Caesar! great ancestor!" exclaimed Cethegus, "thydescendant dares to rival thee! There is still something higher thananything which thou hast reached; even to soar at a higher quarry thanthou, is immortal; and to fall--to fall from such a height--is the mostglorious death. Hail! Once again I know why I live!"
He passed the statue, and threw a glance at some military maps of theRoman Empire, which lay unrolled upon the table.
"First trample upon these barbarians: Rome! Then once more subdue theNorth: Paris! Then reduce the rebellious East to its old subjection tothe Caesar-city: Byzantium! and farther, even farther, to the Tigris, tothe Indus; farther than Alexander; and back to the West, throughScythia and Germania, to the Tiber; the path, Caesar, which Brutus'dagger cut off for thee. And so to be greater than thou, greater thanAlexander----hold, my thought! Enough!"
And the heart of the icy Cethegus flamed and glowed; the veins of histemples throbbed violently; he pressed his burning forehead against thecold marble breast of Julius Caesar, who majestically looked down uponhim.